Blog Tour · Extract

#BlogTour #Extract Deep Dark Night By Steph Broadribb #DeepDarkNight #RandomThingsTours

Today I would like to welcome you all on my stop of the Blog Tour for Deep Dark Night By Steph Broadribb and I would like to share an extract, with all of you. Thank you very much to Anne from Random Things Tours for the invitation. Please do show some love to all the wonderful book bloggers on this blog tour by following and sharing their work. 🙂

Deep Dark Night BT Poster .png

Deep Dark Night final cover .jpg

Publisher: Orenda Books
ISBN13: 978-1913193171
Genre: Thriller
Release date: 05 03 2020
Price*: Kindle £3.99 (GBP)/  Paperback £7.37 (GBP)
Kindle $7.49 (USD)/ Paperback $15.95 (USD)
Pages: ~ 320
You can get this book here:
Amazon UK
Book Depository

Description of the book: Working off the books for FBI Special Agent Alex Monroe, Florida bounty-hunter Lori Anderson and her partner, JT, head to Chicago. Their mission: to entrap the head of the Cabressa crime family. The bait: a priceless chess set that Cabressa is determined to add to his collection.

An exclusive high-stakes poker game is arranged in the penthouse suite of one of the city’s tallest buildings, with Lori holding the cards in an agreed arrangement to hand over the pieces, one by one. But, as night falls and the game plays out, the stakes rise and tempers flare.

When a power failure plunges the city into darkness, the building goes into lockdown. But this isn’t an ordinary blackout, and the men around the poker table aren’t all who they say they are. Hostages are taken, old scores resurface and the players start to die.


Sure they knew they shouldn’t go down to the basement.

It was damp, unsafe, their parents said. And there were rats – a whole bunch of rats. They knew for sure about the rats because they’d seen them with their own eyes. But they’d lived in the neighbourhood their whole lives, and the warnings didn’t make no difference – the place being off limits that way made them want to go down there even more.

Danger was cool, they thought. They were young and wanted adventure and fun is all – something to give them a break from school and studying and exams. And the tension at home – the anger and the resentment, the frustration and fights.

And it was huge down there in the basement – a dark space that stretched out the whole way under their apartment building, maybe a whole lot further. They wanted to explore it all, see what was hidden down there in the far corners, inside the mouldy cardboard boxes and shielded underneath those thick plastic-covered stacks. They broke in all the time. Picked the lock if they had to. It was all a part of the thrill.

This one time, though, something was different.

They smelled it first.

Sometimes when they opened the door to the basement and stepped inside, it just smelled of damp cardboard and old, stale air. Every now and again there’d be something else – bleach or some kind of chemicals, a dead rat, a garbage sack forgotten and left to fester rather than getting put out with the rest of the trash. From time to time, when they left they’d leave behind the aroma of the mellow smoke from their joints, or the smell of young bodies experimenting with sex for the first time.

But on that day, the smell was different. And instinctively, a primal sense within them told them it was bad.

Still, they didn’t turn back. Because, well, curiosity, you know.

The five of them huddled closer together; the one with the nickname Hawk in the front, and the one they called Lookie at the back. And they kept on going, scanning the dark void of the basement with their flashlights. No one wanted to be the one to suggest they turn back.

Every step further, the smell got stronger. Acrid. It clogged in their throats and made their eyes water. And as it did, they figured it was more than one smell – it was like skidding tyres and bonfires and bacon, all mixed up together, but not in a good way.

They found him a few steps later.

He was on his knees. Hands roped behind his back.

His blackened lips were wide. His contorted face twisted midscream.

An old tyre had been hung around his neck. It had gotten damaged by the fire, but it was still intact. The man hadn’t fared so well. He was dead – they could tell that much for sure – nobody could have survived. But who he was once, beneath the burnt, blackened flesh, that they couldn’t tell, at least not right then, anyways.

Lookie vomited. One of the girls started crying. The rest of them just stood and stared and didn’t know what to do. Hawk – always the bravest of the group – took a few steps closer. Said they needed to call the cops. Give a description. Do the right thing.

The others were just about to agree.

Then Hawk began to scream.

Steph Broadribb Author Pic.jpegAbout the author: Steph Broadribb was born in Birmingham and grew up in Buckinghamshire. Most of her working life has been spent between the UK and the USA.

Steph is an alumni of the MA in Creative Writing (Crime Fiction) at City University London, and she trained as a bounty hunter in California. She lives in Buckinghamshire surrounded by horses, cows and chickens. Her debut thriller, Deep Down Dead, was shortlisted for the Dead Good Reader Awards in two categories, and hit number one on the UK and AU kindle charts. My Little Eye, her first novel under her pseudonym, Stephanie Marland was published by Trapeze Books in April 2018.

Website: / Twitter: @CrimeTrillGirl

*-the price was taken from and on the current date. The price might change at the time of your purchase. The links used in this post for book purchases are affiliates.



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