Thank you so much to the lovely teams at Head Of Zeus and NetGalley, for including me in this Blog Tour.
As you can see from the Tour Schedule below, Fiction Books tour spot falls almost at the half way point, so I’m sure that there will have been plenty of other reviews, extracts and author content already shared, as well as that still to come, so why not visit a few of the other tour participants and see what they think …
Check out that spooky cover art, it’s enough to give you sleepless nights!!
It was meant to be your daughter’s first sleepover. Now it’s an abduction.
Lucia went home from school for a playdate with her new friend Josie. Later that evening, Lucia’s mother Elisa dropped her overnight things round and kissed her little girl goodnight.
That was the last time she saw daughter.
The next morning, when Lucia’s dad arrived to pick her up, the house was empty. No furniture, no family, no Lucia.
In Playdate, Alex Dahl puts a microscope on a seemingly average, seemingly happy family plunged into a life-altering situation. Who has taken their daughter, and why?
Alex Dahl, is a half-American, half-Norwegian author.
Born in Oslo, she studied Russian and German linguistics with international studies, then went on to complete an MA in creative writing at Bath Spa University and an MSc in business management at Bath University.
A committed Francophile, Alex loves to travel and has so far lived in Moscow, Paris, Stuttgart, Sandefjord, Switzerland, Bath and London.
Her first thriller, The Boy At The Door, was a Sunday Times Crime Club star pick and was shortlisted for the CWA Debut Dagger.
You can follow Alex on Twitter
You can connect with Alex on Facebook
You Can purchase the book from any of the links below:
‘Hi,’ I say, and smile at them both. When the girl smiles back I notice that the left side of her face creases strangely, and then I realize it is a circular, puckered scar cupping her cheek, reaching all the way to her hairline at her temple.
‘Hello, I’m Line, Josephine’s mother,’ says the woman and smiles widely. She is beautiful, the kind of beautiful that has the power to instantly disarm people. Her eyes are wide-set and clear blue, her hair is thick and dark, curling perfectly around her shoulders, and her lips are plump and shiny with nude gloss. She is wearing a khaki version of her daughter’s Moncler jacked – cinched at her tiny waist, a white cashmere polo neck, and elegant, knee-high, olive-green leather boots.
‘Nice to meet you. I’m Elisa. Elisa Blix.’ I turn to Lucia. ‘We need to hurry, sweets, Lyder is waiting alone in the car.’
‘I want to go to Josephine’s house!’
‘It’s absolutely fine with us,’ says Line. ‘The girls have been asking for a playdate for a while, and we’re not doing anything this afternoon.’
‘Right,’ I say. ‘Well, okay, if you’re sure.’
‘Absolutely sure. Let me give you my number. We live on Asnestoppen, so not far from here.’
‘Okay. I’ll pick her up around six thirty, if that works?’
‘Six thirty is perfect.’
‘When did Josephine start? I don’t think I’ve met you before.’
‘Pretty new. We moved here from Oslo at the beginning of term.’
‘Ah, okay. Liking it so far?’
‘Yeah. Josie has settled really well at school and my older son is happy at his senior school, too.’
‘Oh, great,’ I say, and we smile at each other again. I like her, I could imagine us being friends. There is something calm and centered about her, and I suppose I am quite awe-struck by her seemingly effortless elegance. The girls, too, seem to like each other – as Line and I speak, they do an intricate clapping game I can’t remember seeing Lucia do before, then they burst into fits of high-pitched giggles.
‘Do you want to call my phone from yours, that way I have your number too?’ she says.
‘Sorry, I’ve left my phone in the car with my son. Why don’t you just call me, and I’ll drop you a text in a sec?’
‘Sure.’‘Okay, have fun on your playdate, girls,’ I say and give the faux-fur blob on the top of Lucia’s hat a little tug.
She laughs and walks away with Line and Josephine, holding Josephine’s hand, the two of them skipping in sync, the sound of their squeaky rubber soled boots reverberating around the empty corridor.
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