Laura Swallow is dead. A life cut tragically short, says the newspaper obituary. But that's a lie. Estate agent Laura did not die in a car accident. She is alive and well. At first, Laura thinks it's a sick joke. But multiple announcements of her death are followed by increasingly sinister real-life events. Already fragile, struggling to recover from a recent divorce, Laura is plunged into a living nightmare. Who can she trust? Her new lover? Her clients and work colleagues? What about her ex-husband and his smug fiancee? Can Laura even rely on her best friends?

Julia Valenciano is a young, ambitious Miami prosecutor. Assigned to a hectic trial division with an ornery judge, just getting through the day can be a challenge. When Julia is asked to second chair a case that could very well make or break her career, she doesn't hesitate to jump on board. The defendant: a successful Miami surgeon. The victims: his own wife and small children. The plea: Not Guilty By Reason of Insanity.

Claire thought she knew who she was—until a stranger began to take her life piece by piece. What started as a series of subtle disturbances—a missing scarf, a misplaced photograph—soon spirals into a nightmare Claire can’t escape. Lisette, a woman with an uncanny resemblance to Claire, isn’t just trying to manipulate her life—she’s trying to replace her entirely. As Lisette’s presence grows more invasive, Claire finds herself unraveling, questioning her own sanity as the lines between reality and paranoia blur. But Lisette isn’t just any intruder. She knows things no ...

Liam finally popped the question, and Emily said yes. But that very same night, Liam gets abducted . . . and wakes up to a nightmare. On a large estate in the middle of nowhere, Liam finds himself the object of a woman's twisted affections—and confined to a stone cell. A servant ignores him. A guard watches over him. Meanwhile, Emily struggles to take care of their newborn child and tries to find the strength to move on. Can Liam ever escape and recover the life that was stolen from him—or will this bizarre prison be the last place he ever sees?

I thought moving to this quiet cul-de-sac was the fresh start my husband and I needed, escaping the noise of our cramped flat in Hounslow. I left India and all that was familiar for a new life with him in England. But my husband works all hours, leaving me alone in a house that doesn’t feel like a home. Our neighbours notice the bruises on my arms. They draw the obvious conclusions. They seem kind, but they’re hiding something. I just can’t shake the feeling that someone is always watching me . . . waiting. My husband’s working late. Again. That’s when I see it.