After the Fall
Wendy Roberts
Publication date: October 9th 2026
Genres: Adult, Thriller
“This is an excellent read for those who want true psychological crime built around family secrets. Very highly recommended.”
Asher Syed for Readers’ Favorite__
Amber clings to the wreckage of a shattered life; a hermit drowning in the ghosts of what used to be.
When someone dumps a mutilated body on her wilderness property, a cryptic clue makes her the prime suspect. To clear her name, she must confront the dark secrets of her tragic past while a shadowy executioner is closing in.
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo
—
EXCERPT:
When the blade of death whittled my family of three down to only me, I ran. Grief had scraped me empty, so fourteen months ago I fled to a shack in the northeastern Washington wilderness. I was seeking sanctuary and hoping the pines would mend my shattered soul. Maybe that was too much to expect of the trees. At least they didn’t judge the monument to my failure; a recycling bin overflowing with wine bottles.
The morning light struggled through my grimy windows and poked at my hangover. I took my coffee mug outside and stood on the splintered porch of the small cabin. The air was deceptively still and heavy, carrying the sharp scent of sunbaked pine needles and the silent, shimmering threat of an approaching scorcher of a day. My cabin sat at the dusty elbow of two dirt roads. Between my door and the ditch was half an acre of thigh-high, dewless grass that stood stiff and dry alongside leggy wildflowers and a single tree.
The western hemlock tried for the heavens at nearly two hundred feet, and it was the area under the tree that drew my critical gaze. A woman sat in the tall grass, back against the tree. What was someone doing way the hell out here?
With an eye roll I left the house and stormed toward her.
“Hey!” I shouted.
The strap of her checkered sundress had fallen from one shoulder and as I reached her, I lifted a hand to tap her arm. As my finger got close, a cloud of flies lifted and re-settled into gaping, torn flesh. The wind shifted direction and a thick miasma of putrid decay stung my nostrils. I stumbled backward as my stomach lurched.
Dead!
I couldn’t stop the tremor in my jaw; my teeth clattered together as I whispered broken words, “I-I should check to be sure . . .”
But my voice trailed off because nothing that smelled like that could be anything but gone.
Author Bio:
Wendy Roberts is an armchair sleuth, fan of all things mysterious but a huge chicken at heart. Her mind is often in the secretive, cloak and dagger world of intrigue while her physical presence is usually at home or on the road in her camper van. Wendy resides in Vancouver, Canada where she happily writes about murder and is always at work on her next novel.
GIVEAWAY!
After the Fall Blitz
https://widget.gleamjs.io/e.js
—
