Carrying Clover

Newly single Camille Robins luck is about to change as she embarks on a new chapter of her life, moving to the city near her best friend, Lizzie.

A chance meeting at Lou’s B&B, Camille meets George, a handsome man who sweeps her off her feet.

Can Lizzie forgive Camille for stealing her previous boyfriend, or will she seek revenge?

Camille can’t believe her luck! George can’t believe how perfect she is....

Was it a fate romance, or part of an evil plan?

A fresh new twist on a psychological thriller, fast-paced, clever, and thought provoking that will make you question who is the lucky one.

Luck, love, deceit, and heartbreak will keep you turning the page. And a breathtaking twist you won’t see coming, will stay with you long after you have finished reading.

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George, Camille’s boyfriend has spent Christmas at Lou’s B&B. It’s boxing day and George is due back at Camille’s apartment as planned...

 Camille’s eyes slowly open, he’s coming home today. These two nights have felt like forever, I can’t wait to be back in his arms. Squeezing her eyes shut she smiles.

She looks at her phone 10am dam! He hates mess, I better tidy, he could be back at any moment. She dresses and starts cleaning through their apartment. As she picks up the present Lizzie had got her, she shakes her head. She knows I can’t eat chocolates because of my allergy, oh well, George will eat them. She puts them next to the kettle.

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 There spotless! Satisfied at how clean the apartment looks she rests her hands on her hips and lets out a sigh.

She walks over to the lounge and slouches back onto the sofa, willing the time to go faster, a lightness in her chest. She glances up at the clock, 12:55.  Where is he? I hope he isn’t much longer. He said he would be back this morning.

She pads to the bedroom, and peers out of the window, no sign of his car, her forehead creases.  She picks up her phone noting the time again, taps on his name to call him,

‘Hello, you have reached George, please leave a message.’

He must be driving, or his battery might be dead.  She rolls her eyes.

  Right, I can’t clock watch anymore, I’ll make something to eat, it might occupy my mind for a bit. She places some left-over turkey into two slices of bread, not bothering to butter or cut it, and sits down on the bar stool, her elbows resting on the island. Her stomach churns over and she pushes the plate away, she tries his number again, Voicemail. With her thumb hovering over the keyboard, she pauses, then quickly types a text, ‘Hi, it was nice to spend time with you, George isn’t home yet, MEN! XX’ Pressing send, she hopes Lizzie will text her back or even ring, she needed to talk someone to help pass the time, and to reassure her that George is safe and will be coming home.  I can’t think straight.

 She makes her way over to the sofa and sits down, she flicks on the TV to try and pass the time, losing count of the times she’s checked her phone. What if he has left me, gone off with someone else. He wouldn’t do that would he?

After crossing and uncrossing her legs, she stands and walks around the apartment, tapping her phone into the palm of her hand, willing it to ring, she looks out of the window every time that she passes.  He doesn’t have social media, so she can’t try and contact him through that. He doesn’t believe in it, says its nothing but trouble. She starts to bite the skin around her nails.

14.45, she exhales looking at the clock. She tries his phone – Voicemail again, then tries ‘Lou’s B&B’, three beeps, silence The lines dead? Letting out a sigh she calls Lizzie, continuous ringing, no answer. Her breathing intensifying, a pounding pressure crushing her head, fuck, what’s happening, why isn’t anyone answering?

She re-reads his text, over and over. Her heart thumping louder.  Where are you?

Maybe he didn’t even go to Lou’s. It’s like my heart is being grabbed so tight it can’t beat anymore.

Her mouths dry, her eyes are unfocused, limbs tingling, her chest tight and painful. She gasps for breath. She rushes to the front door; her sweaty hands slide on the door handle. She pulls the door open. Looking up and down the corridor her blurry eyes land on her neighbour’s door; Joanna. Banging on the door hard and fast, it fly’s open, she nearly falls over the threshold.

‘Camille? What unearths a matter?’

Her breathing is fast and shallow she is clutching her chest and bent over.

‘You need to help me, the pain’


Author Bio – Lorey Durston is an author of thriller and suspense novels. 

CARRYING CLOVER is her debut novel.

She is currently working on her next suspense novel to be released late 2021.

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