Fran sat with her eyes closed. The small plane dropped suddenly, seemed to fall from the sky, then levelled for a moment before tilting like a fairground ride. She opened her eyes to see a grey cliff ahead of them. It was close enough for her to make out the white streaks of bird muck and last season’s nests. Below, the sea was boiling. Spindrift and white froth caught by the gale-force winds spun over the surface of the water.
Why doesn’t the pilot do something? Why is Jimmy just sitting there, waiting for us all to die?
She imagined the
Praise for Ann Cleeves
"Blue Lightning is nothing short of riveting."
“Stunning… Sure to enshrine the entire series in the ranks of the unforgettable.”
--The Richmond Times-Dispatch
“Delivers a unique atmosphere and a shocking ending that is sure to please.”
"Chilling...enough to freeze the blood."
--The New York Times on Raven Black
--Val McDermid on Raven Black
“Cunning… Pulls the wool over our eyes in true Christie fashion.”
--Colin Dexter, author of the Inspector Morse mysteries, on White Nights