C. J. Tudor

An unconventional vicar moves to a remote corner of the English countryside, only to discover a community haunted by death and disappearances both past and present--and intent on keeping its dark secrets--in this explosive, unsettling thriller from acclaimed author C. J. Tudor. Welcome to Chapel Croft. Five hundred years ago, eight protestant martyrs were burned at the stake here. Thirty years ago, two teenage girls disappeared without a trace. And two months ago, the vicar of the local parish killed himself. Reverend Jack Brooks, a single parent with a fourteen-year-old daughter and a heavy conscience, arrives in the village hoping to make a fresh start and find some peace. Instead, Jack finds a town mired in secrecy and a strange welcome package: an old exorcism kit and a note quoting scripture. "But there is nothing covered up that will not be revealed and hidden that will not be known." The more Jack and daughter Flo get acquainted with the town and its strange denizens, the deeper they are drawn into their rifts, mysteries, and suspicions. And when Flo is troubled by strange sightings in the old chapel, it becomes apparent that there are ghosts here that refuse to be laid to rest. But uncovering the truth can be deadly in a village where everyone has something to protect, everyone has links with the village's bloody past, and no one trusts an outsider.

A Novel

The Burning Girls

Clara Gauthier

Why do we hate our girls so much that history echoes with their screams and the earth is pitted with their unmarked graves?

Aimee :)

Belief should be a conscious choice, not something you're brainwashed into when you're too young to understand or question it. Faith isn't something you pass down like an heirloom.

I's not tangible or absolute. Not even for a priest. It's something you have to keep working at, like marriage or children.

You have wobbles. Naturally. Bad things happen. Things that make you question whether there is a God and, if there is, why he's such a bastard. But the truth is, bad things do not happen because of God.

"You think that's why he committed suicide?'

No.?' Her milky eyes glint and I understand two things - Joan did not leave her coat in the chapel by mistake. And I am in more trouble than I thought.

I grab my keys and walk along the narrow path from the cottage to the chapel, torch trained in front of me. A small inner voice tuts that this is exactly the sort of thing people in horror films do. Stupid people who inevitably die in gruesome ways before the titles kick in. I try to ignore that voice.

I wonder why authors' photos always make them seem so smug. Look, I wrote a book. Aren't I clever?

"Why? What did you think I was going to do?' 

‘Perhaps that's what weirdos like me do, right?'

He stares at her from under his long fringe, eyes unread-able. Then he grins. 'If I really wanted to murder you, I wouldn't have told you about the well.'

She lets her hands fall. 'Go fuck yourself.’

He grins. 'Bitch.' And pulls the trigger.

The fat priest had told him what he wanted to know pretty quickly. He couldn't really remember now why he felt the need to keep hitting him so much and so hard. Maybe it was the way the priest looked at him; the way he told him softly that he forgave him for his sins. Perhaps it had reminded him a little too much of his mother.

Who is the best on-screen devil? Al Pacino or Jack Nicholson?'

I smile. ‘Who says the devil has to be a man?'

The Burning Girls quotes

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