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'Stop. We need to stop. That's it, everyone - we've done our best. I'm calling it. It's four seventeen.' I open my eyes. A raindrop hits my left eye, dead centre. I shut both eyes quickly. Careful now, I squint out. The rain keeps coming. Water bombs dropping out of a grey sky. There's stuff in my mouth. Mud. Gravel. I turn my head and spit. There's a face a metre from mine. Hair plastered on to his forehead in glistening snakes. Mouth, thin lips slightly apart, a trickle of water spilling out of the corner. Pale skin, streaked with mud. Eyes, closed, stunted eyelashes forming two stubby lines. It's my face.

About the book

When Carl opens his eyes on the banks of a cold lake, his brother is being zipped into a body bag. And a shivering wet girl is being helped nearby.

What happened in the water?

He can't remember. All he knows is that he must find out – before the truth comes back to drown him ...

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Press reviews

“A very thought provoking read.”


“The Drowning was a wonderful book to read. I rushed through it anxious to know more. It was fast-paced throughout with plenty of action and suspense and definitely very high on the creep factor!”


Author notes

'Halfway through writing The Drowning, in the interests of research, I went for a dip in Schlachtensee, a lake on the outskirts of Berlin. It was overcast, there were no other swimmers except for some politely interested ducks and moorhens. It felt satisfyingly wild. I swam for ten minutes or so ... but I didn't put my head underwater. Sometimes it's best not to know what lies beneath the surface.'





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