In this thriller for fans of Ashley Elston and Jeneva Rose, a manipulative kidnapper gives a true crime podcaster one week to locate her brother’s best friend. If she succeeds, she’ll learn the truth about her brother’s disappearance six years ago, but if she fails, his friend will die.

You never know who’s listening.

To Stella Dixon, sneaking her teenage brother out of their parents’ house for a beach party was harmless fun—until Max disappeared without a trace.

Six years later, Stella’s family is still broken, and she can’t let go of her guilt. The only thing that keeps her going is helping other families find closure through A Killer Motive, her true crime podcast.

In a bid to find new sponsors and keep making episodes, Stella goes on a local radio show. But when she says on air that if she had just one clue, she’d find Max and bring whoever hurt him to justice, someone takes it as a challenge.

A mysterious invitation to play a game arrives, with the promise that if Stella wins, she’ll get information about what happened to Max. Stella thinks it’s a sick joke…until Max’s best friend vanishes. And she’s given new instructions: tell nobody or people will die.

Desperate and unable to trust anyone, Stella agrees. But beating a twisted, invisible enemy seems impossible when they make all the rules…

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Stella

My pulse thudded in my neck like Morse code. A steady tap-tap loosely translating as come on. Shoving my hands under my thighs, I slid farther down the passenger seat and peered over the dashboard toward the darkened house at the end of the street.

For ten minutes I’d willed the motion-activated porch lights to stay off. Hoped the heavy living room drapes with the silver ring print I’d been mesmerized by as a kid would remain closed, allowing us to stay undetected.

Tap-tap.

Already 9:47 p.m. Where was he?

The cloudless Maine sky had long transitioned from bright blue to bubble gum pink before enveloping our corner of the East Coast in a blanket of rich black velvet. A cool breeze drifted through the open car window, providing a welcome break from the searing early August temperatures.

Rain was on its way for Portland and beyond tomorrow, which would be a welcome relief. For now, the sound of buzzing cicadas filled the Friday night air while this summer’s hottest anthem played on a radio somewhere in the distance.

The classic smell of freshly cut grass invaded my nostrils, conjuring memories of picnics in the park, running through sprinklers, and hands sticky from melting strawberry popsicles. Like those lazy days years ago, tonight would be perfect. All I needed was for my brother to show up.

“Do you think he changed his mind, Stella?” Jeff said, his voice a gentle rumble.

Glancing at my boyfriend, I took in his dark blond hair, straight nose, and the sculpted stubble accentuating a set of epic cheekbones. I let my gaze sweep across his toned biceps and chest. Underneath the faded-but-somehow-still-fitted Alanis Morissette T-shirt was a set of rock-hard abs I couldn’t wait to run my hands over again. Part of me almost wanted Max not to show up so we could go straight home.

I reached for Jeff’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “No, he’s too excited for the party. I bet he’s waiting for Mom and Dad to fall asleep in front of the TV.”

Jeff laughed. “Way to make them sound ancient.”

My parents were fifty-one. I was about to reply that compared to Jeff’s twenty-four years and my twenty-two, that was ancient, but the sight of Max emerging between a pair of fir trees stopped me. With a mischievous grin on his face, he speed-walked toward us, his hands tucked into the pockets of a Simpsons hoodie.

I smiled at my baby brother. Baby was slightly unfair considering his eighteenth birthday was under two weeks away, but I’d forever tease him about being four years younger. Max didn’t mind. He knew that from the moment I first saw him in the hospital, swaddled in a bunny-print blanket, his plump cheeks rosy red, I vowed I’d be the best big sister in the world.

Tonight, my solemn promise meant busting his grounded ass out of his minimum-security prison, aka our parents’ house, so he could join Jeff and me at what would be the coolest party of the weekend. Lighthouse Beach was a twenty-five-minute drive from Deering, the Portland neighborhood where Max and I had grown up, and now I couldn’t wait to get going.

Max slid into the back seat of Jeff’s old red pickup truck. I turned around, laughing at my brother’s beaming face and the perpetual impish twinkle in his green eyes, which looked so much like mine.

“We were about to leave,” I deadpanned. “Thought you’d chickened out.”

Max snorted. “As if.”

“Are we picking up Kenji?”

“He’s at his girlfriend’s so he’ll meet us at the beach,” Max said, before jokingly adding, “He’d better, considering he’s taking off next week. Some best friend he is, leaving me behind.”

“Hey,” I shot back with mock indignation. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“Are you two sure about this aiding and abetting?” Jeff cut in before Max could throw a good-natured sibling zinger my way. “Your mom will go ballistic if she finds out.”

Max shrugged. “I don’t care. She’s way overprotective.”

“You know her reasons,” Jeff said.

We all did. Mom’s older brother died when she was nine and he was seventeen. It was terrible how some asshole truck driver had run over our uncle, killing him instantly. Still, Max’s rebellion tonight was fueled by the fact Mom had banned him from going to California with Kenji, saying it was too far away, and Max was too young. They’d had a massive argument about it, which led to my brother being grounded for the weekend, hence tonight’s great escape.

“I told them I was heading to bed,” Max said. “They never check, but I stacked my pillows under the duvet just in case. Nobody will notice.”

“If they do, I’ll take the full blame.” I patted Jeff’s hand. “Max, we’ll drive you home. No after-parties with Kenji, got it? What Mom and Dad don’t know can’t hurt them.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Max gave me a salute. “Anyway, I’ll need some sleep. I’m volunteering at the clinic tomorrow. Woolly had a mass removed and I want to be there for him.”

“Woolly?” Jeff said. “Dog or sheep?”

My brother grinned. “Giant Angora rabbit. He’s awesome.”

“You’re such a softie,” I said before letting out a whoop. “All right, let’s go. Lighthouse Beach, here we come.”

A KILLER MOTIVE by Hannah Mary McKinnon

Available September 2025 from MIRA.

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About the Author

Internationally bestselling author Hannah Mary McKinnon was born in the UK, grew up in Switzerland and moved to Canada in 2010. Her eight suspense novels include THE REVENGE LIST, ONLY ONE SURVIVES, and A KILLER MOTIVE, and her work has been optioned for the screen. She also writes holiday romantic comedies as Holly Cassidy. Hannah Mary lives near Toronto, Canada with her husband and three sons. You’ll find her on socials as @hannahmarymckinnon, and please visit www.hannahmarymckinnon.com for more.

Connect:

Website: www.HannahMaryMcKinnon.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/HannahMaryMcKinnon (@hannahmarymckinnon)

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Twitter: www.twitter.com/HannahMMcKinnon (@hannahmmckinnon)

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/15144570.Hannah_Mary_McKinnon

BookBub: www.bookbub.com/authors/hannah-mary-mckinnon

LinkTree: https://linktr.ee/hannahmarymckinnon

As a therapy exercise, a woman writes a list of people she wants to forgive, and thinks nothing of it when she loses it in an Uber…until one by one the people on the list become victims of freak accidents. Set in Portland, Maine, Hannah Mary McKinnon’s breakout suspense novel THE REVENGE LIST will appeal to fans of Lisa Unger, Joshilyn Jackson, and Tarryn Fisher.

Following an epic run-in with a client who threatened to pull out of a contract at her father’s company if she doesn’t suffer some consequences, Frankie Morgan agrees to go to anger management. With the business struggling with cash-flow and her brother needing help with the medical bills for his sick daughter, she can’t risk harming the business further. But that doesn’t mean she’ll be happy about attending.

During the first session, the group is asked to spend some quiet time exploring their pasts and sitting with the emotions that generates, before making a start on a Forgiveness List—a list of people with whom they’re angry and might work on forgiving. She begrudgingly goes along with it and doesn’t worry too much when she forgets the list in an Uber on her way home. It shouldn’t matter—it was just a therapy exercise—except a few days later the first person on that list is injured in a freak accident. When the second person gets hurt, she hopes it’s coincidence. After the third is targeted, she knows it’s a pattern. And she’s in trouble. Because the next name on that list is…hers.

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

***

The sharp sound of a high-pitched scream filled the air. A noise so unrecognizable, at first I didn’t register it had come from deep within me, traveling up my throat in stealth mode before bursting from my mouth.

The remnants of the yell reverberated around the car, forcing their way into my ears and penetrating my skull, urging me to do something. Survival instincts kicked in, and I fumbled with the seatbelt, my other hand grasping for the door handle. The need for the relative safety that solid, stationary ground would bring was so intense it made my stomach heave. A loud click of the central locking system meant my captor had outsmarted me again, obliterating my immediate plan to throw myself from the moving vehicle.

When I looked out the windshield, I knew there was no time to find an alternate escape. The end of the road—the edge of the cliff—announced by signs and broken red-and-white-striped wooden barricades, had been far enough away seconds ago but now gleamed in the car’s headlights, a looming warning yards ahead. I couldn’t comprehend what was about to happen, couldn’t do anything as the vehicle kept going, splintering planks and racing out the other side with nothing but air below. I let out another scream, far louder than my first, the absolute terror exploding from my lungs.

For the briefest of moments, we were suspended, as if this was a magic trick or an elaborate roller coaster. Perhaps, if I were really lucky, this was all a dream. Except I already knew there were no smoke and mirrors, no swirling track leading us through loop-the-loops and to safety. It wasn’t a nightmare I’d wake from with bedsheets wrapped around my sweaty body. This was happening. It was all terrifyingly real.

As the car continued its trajectory, it tipped forward. The only thing to stop our momentum was whatever we were rushing toward, obscured by the cloudy night skies. Pushing my heels into the floor, I tried to flatten my shoulders against the seat. My hands scrambled for the ceiling to brace myself, but I flopped like a rag doll, my loosened seatbelt tearing into my shoulder.

They say your life flashes before you when you’re close to death. That didn’t happen to me. Instead, it was all my regrets. Choices I’d made. Not made. Things I’d said and done. Not said. Not done. It was far too late to make amends. There would be no opportunity to beg anyone for forgiveness. No possibility of offering some.

As the finality of the situation hit me full on, I turned my head. The features of the driver next to me were illuminated in a blueish glint from the dashboard lights. His face had set in a stony grimace; his jaw clenched so tight he had to have shattered teeth. But what frightened me the most were his eyes, filled with what could only be described as maniacal delight.

He’d said we were both going to die. As the car hurtled to the bottom of the cliff, I closed my eyes and accepted he was right.

***

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