Running From Dust by Jess Whitby Genre: Psychological Paranormal Thriller
“I could not put this book down.” 5 Stars – Goodreads Reviewer“An attention grabbing psychological thriller.” 5 Stars – Goodreads Reviewer Jude Craig is a level-headed teacher in a Yorkshire secondary school. Within a matter of days her professional and personal life is shattered by a series of strange events in her house. What starts with the sound of papers fluttering to the floor quickly escalates to her discovering that someone has been in the house whilst she is sleeping. When Jude is driven out of her job and home she is forced to discover whether she is being haunted, stalked by a pupil, or the terrifying possibility that she is losing her mind. Goodreads * Amazon
Jess Whitby lives in Yorkshire, England. She studied Communication Studies at University and then went on to train and work as a Youth Worker. She now works as a Therapist in Yorkshire. When she isn’t working she is busy either writing her next novel or eating her favourite food : chips and gravy! Website * Facebook * Twitter * Amazon * Goodreads
Her heart had raced – like it did now. There had been a noise. A noise from outside the
bedroom. She’d lain there, frozen in bed. Not daring to move, her eyes fixed on the
doorway.
After a few seconds, she’d glanced away from the door and to Oscar. He was fast asleep. He
hadn’t heard it. Strange as normally, he barked at the slightest thing.
Then it happened again. The noise. What was the sound? Then, it was there—paper! It was
the sound of a sheet of paper falling to the floor.
In a flash, Jude connected the dots. The study was at the back of the house and overlooked
the back garden. The desk sat below the window. Was someone breaking in and had
knocked some papers on the desk to the floor? Did she check the back window tonight?
Instinctively, she’d reached out for Oscar. He’d responded by snuggling up to her further.
Still fast asleep. Why didn’t he wake up? She lay paralysed. The blood pounding through her
head.
Silence. She held her breath and glanced at the clock. 3.26am.
The phone—where had she put it? Again, she chanced a glance away from her doorway to
the top of the drawers where the phone sat on charge. Out of arm’s reach. Damn! She
gently prodded Oscar, who at last lifted his head up. Instead of leaping off the bed,
she sensed him looking at her. He wasn’t on good guard dog form tonight.
Why did she stop bringing a knife up to bed with her? The one time she needed it, she didn’t
have it. How did she get to be so stupid? She listened again. Nothing. She glanced at the
clock, 3.29am. How long would it take for an intruder to get in? Surely less than a minute.
Surely he or she had to make another noise? She shuffled up in the bed. Eyes fixed on the
door. Oscar put his head back on the bed and closed his eyes. No sound. No movement. She
tried to calm her breathing, unaware that her whole body had tensed right up, her fists
clenched on top of the duvet.
By 3.40am, she thought perhaps she had imagined it. Uxton wasn’t exactly crime central,
and this estate had always seemed so quiet. The papers on her desk were piled up so high,
they could have fallen. That desk contained all the paperwork that Jude tried her hardest to
avoid. Not one school holiday passed where her “To Do” list didn’t include ‘clear the desk’.
But something more exciting always got in the way.
At 3.45am, she was confident enough to put the bedside light on. Oscar didn’t stir. She slid a
bit further down in the bed. Even the hardiest of criminals wouldn’t have stood still this long.
As the minutes passed, her heart rate slowed. The normal silence of the night returned. At
about 3.55am, she fell into a restless sleep, reminding herself to check the office in the
morning and see what had fallen off the desk. Now she thought about it, she had woken up
several times after that. Each time, her heart had been racing. Each time, she’d struggled to
relax and get back to sleep again.
At least I know why I’m so tired, she thought to herself as she opened her bag and rescued
two paracetamol from the detritus gathered inside. She hoisted herself up from the chair
and made her way to the staff room. Note to self—check study when I get home. Second
note to self—take knife up to bed. Third note to self—drink more wine.”
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