An Afterlife For Rosemary Lamb Louise Wolhuter by Louise Wolhuter 9781761151873, 761151878 instant download after payment.

‘This gripping tale of three women who are suspected in the disappearance of a 9-year-old is a powerful read you won’t want to put down.’–Pedestrian.tv

‘An incredible debut full of rich characters and a plot that will keep you guessing. Louise Wolhuter is a writer to watch.’—J.P. Pomare, author of In The Clearing and The Wrong Woman

‘A deeply evocative, hauntingly nostalgic and profoundly unsettling mystery.’—Sulari Gentill, author of The Woman in The Library

‘Wolhuter’s distinctive voice and her beautiful prose had me immersed and lingering on every page.’—Shankari Chandran, author of Chai Time at Cinnamon Gardens

Jessie Else disappeared the summer the Lambs came to Magpie Beach. Not that the two events were connected at all, in reality; only in my own head, in my own world. They marked for me the end of a certain quiet time and the start of a more complicated living.

Winifred is a small town full of prejudices and assumptions. Meg and Lily are outsiders who live on its margins at Magpie Beach, where they’ve managed to keep out of each other’s – and everyone else’s – way for years. That is, until Rosemary comes along and draws them into an unlikely friendship.

When nine-year-old Jessie Else goes missing, the residents of Winifred begin locking their doors, and fingers soon start pointing towards Magpie Beach. Questions threaten to undo Meg, Rosemary and Lily’s quiet existence, and the women band together to protect themselves, and to protect each other, but all three are holding secrets that are too big for them to keep on their own.

It’s only a matter of time before they start to unravel–and nothing will ever be the same again.

‘Darkly addictive. Once An Afterlife for Rosemary Lamb gets its teeth into you, there's no escape.’—Adrian Hyland, author of Canticle Creek
‘Charming, quirky and original. This beautifully written portrait of a small community of outliers keeps unfolding until the very end, revealing how little we ever really know about another person. Wolhu