
From New York Times bestseller Courtney Cole, writing as Courtney Evan Tate, comes the psychological thriller that will keep readers up turning pages long into the night, SUCH DARK THINGS! “Written in breathless style, this page-turner relies on quick thrills, surprise twists…[for] readers seeking a fast entertaining tale…”(Publishers Weekly). Grab your copy of SUCH DARK THINGS today!

A HORRIFIC RECURRING NIGHTMARE IS THREATENING TO STEAL HER SANITYâŠ
Dr. Corinne Cabot is living the American dream. Sheâs a successful ER physician in Chicago whoâs married to a handsome husband. Together they live in a charming house in the suburbs. But appearances can be deceivingâand what no one can see is Corinneâs dark past. Troubling gaps in her memory mean she recalls little about a haunting event in her life years ago that changed everything.
She remembers only being in the house the night two people were found murdered. Her father was there, too. Now her father is in prison; she hasnât been in contact in years. Repressing that terrifying memory has caused Corinne moments of paranoia and panic. Sometimes she thinks she sees things that arenât there, hears words that havenât been spoken. Or have they? She fears she may be losing her mind, unable to determine whatâs real and whatâs not.
So when she senses her husbandâs growing distance, she thinks sheâs imagining things. She writes her suspicions off to fatigue, overwork, anything to explain what she canât acceptâthat her life really isnât what it seems.
Grab your copy of SUCH DARK THINGS here!

âFans of domestic thrillers with an unreliable narrator will gobble this one up…Recommended for all thriller/suspense collections.”
–Booklist

Excerpt
Prologue-
My skin is sticky with blood.
My waistband is wet with it, and I can taste it on my lips. Itâs splattered on my face, and it tastes like metal that has been rotting in the sun and rain for a hundred years. The night makes me shiver, the cool breeze rustling my hair, and for a split second, Iâm back there in that house, standing in that blood. My bare toes feel the warmth of the liquid turn cool as the minutes tick past.
Goose bumps raise on my neck, and a knot that I canât swallow is lodged in my throat. My feet are frozen frozen frozen on the ground, and I canât move.
Their eyes are open and lifeless, although they stare at me.
They see me.
Yet they see nothing.
I canât breathe.
My lips are ice, just like theirs.
My heart is pounding and racing and stuttering, and I canât breathe I canât breathe I canât breathe.
âCorinne. Youâre safe here. Corinne.â
And just like that, Iâm not there.
Iâm here.
âThere was blood all over me.â My words are stilted and fragile, like glass.
I stare at my hand, and even though itâs clean now, I see it as it was seventeen years ago, covered in the blood of two soulsâŠsouls that were living and that arenât anymore. Itâs hard to wrap my mind around. First they were breathing, and then they werenât. It happened in a split second. I inhale shakily.
âThink about that moment,â the doctor instructs. âWho can you see?â
I think on that. âMelanie is next to me on the floor. Her head is bleeding into a pool. There is so much blood that it looks black.â I close my eyes, because it had been the first time Iâd seen blood like that, and it terrified me. âJoe is on the bed. His blood is splattered all over the wall. Both of them have their eyes open.â
Staring at me.
The emotions welling up in me are like a wave, swelling, swelling, swellingâŠuntil I canât handle it anymore. The horror and the guilt and the pain are just too much.
âI canât do this,â I blurt out. âIâm done for the day.â
Dr. Phillips looks at me, and heâs calm and detached.
âCorinne, why are you here?â
I pause. What a stupid question. âYou know why Iâm here.â
I hate it when they treat me with such condescension.
âHumor me,â he tells me. âWhy are you here?â
I grit my teeth and look away.
He waits.
âYouâre saying that I tried to hurt myself. But I wouldnât do that.â
I look at him now, and heâs so fucking emotionless. I look down at my left wrist, at the bandage covering up the stiches.
âI wouldnât,â I insist again. âIâm a fucking physician. I wouldnât have cut my wrist horizontally. If I really wanted to hurt myself, I wouldâve known to cut vertically along the vein.â
I finger the gauze. Beneath it, the cut throbs, evidence of something I donât remember doing.
âIâm not crazy,â I add. And I donât know if Iâm trying to convince Dr. Phillips, or myself.
âYouâre not crazy.â He nods. âBut youâve experienced a mental break. Youâre here because you need to deal with the causal underlying issue so that it wonât happen again. Right?â
Heâs a fucking asshole.
I stare at the wall. At the whiteness, at the sterility.
âYou need some plants in here,â I tell him, avoiding the question. âGreenery puts patients at ease. All this blanknessâŠitâs maddening.â
âIâll keep that in mind,â he says wryly. âCorinneâŠâ
I interrupt. âDr. Cabot,â I tell him. âIâve earned it.â
âDr. Cabot,â he corrects himself. âYouâre right. Youâve earned it. You worked a long time to finish medical school and your residency. Youâre a top ER physician. You have a life envied by everyone around you. Youâve got to take care of yourself, so you can protect this life youâve built.â
I close my eyes. Behind my eyelids, itâs dark and safe. Itâs black and warm.
âProtect it from what?â I whisper.
âYou tell me,â he answers. âYouâve got something inside of you that is triggered now, something that creates panic and a fight-or-flight response. We know what your father did so long ago. What we donât know is whyâŠor what damage it has caused in you, damage that seems to be affecting you now.â
âI donât know either,â I say helplessly, my eyes opening to the white walls again. âI canât remember. I never could. You know that.â
âI know.â Dr. Phillips nods again, and he tries to be so fucking comforting. âYou have a history of dissociative behavior. You blocked out what your father did so long ago, and it stands to reason that your brain has developed that as a defense mechanism. Itâs doing it again now. If we donât get to the bottom of why your memories are being triggered now, after all of these yearsâŠyouâll never have peace. Do we agree on that?â
Reluctantly, I nod.
âSo we have to start at the beginning. You have to stay here and focus.â
Anger flares in me, red and hot, and I stare him down. He doesnât blink and neither do I.
âFocus?â I ask him, and my words are sharp and I wish they would cut him. âYou think itâs as simple as sitting down and focusing? How dare you sit there and tell me what to do, when you have no idea what itâs like?â
I stand up to leave, but the psychiatristâs next sentence holds me in my place, freezing me.
âCorinne, you promised Jude youâd try.â
Jude.
My beautiful, understanding Jude.
I swallow hard. I did promise. And I have to follow through, even though the pain it causes me is immeasurable. I owe it to him. Iâll do it for him. Not for this psychiatrist, but for Jude.
My body folds back into the seat, and I finger the medical bracelet circling my right wrist. Corinne Elizabeth Cabot, Female. Itâs me, condensed into one stark sentence, yet Iâm a stranger to myself right now. Thatâs why Iâm here. I donât know myself or my thoughts. My memories are foreign, blocked, nightmarish, out of control.
âFine.â Thereâs nothing else I can say.
Dr. Phillips is quietly triumphant. âLetâs begin again. Take a deep breath and close your eyes.â
I do, drawing the cool air in a rush over my teeth, expanding my lungs and holding it, before I let it slowly exhale. I do it again, then again.
âThink back to that night, Dr. Cabot. Stand in that room. Tell me where your father is.â
I envision it, I see it in my mind like it was yesterday. My father in his bloody steel-toed boots. âHeâs on the porch, waiting for the police to come.â
âHe left you alone in the house with two dead bodies?â
âYes.â
âHe didnât try to run?â
âNo.â
âOkay. What did you do then?â my doctor asks me calmly, unfazed by the ugliness of my story.
âI was stunned. I think I was in shock. My hand was bleeding.â
Dr. Phillips looks at my hand, because Iâm stroking the scar now, an unconscious nervous tic that I often do when Iâm anxious. âWhat happened to your hand?â
âI donât remember.â
âIs there a lot that you donât remember from that night?â
âYes. You know that.â
âYes, I do,â he acknowledges. âSo youâre standing in the middle of a bloody crime scene because your father left you alone. What did you do then, Corinne?â
âI looked out the window,â I tell him. âI was frozen. I couldnât move. My feet felt like concrete and I was afraid if I moved, my heart would explode. So I took deep breaths. I watched the trick-or-treaters walking by. I looked at the blood on my shoe. I looked at the jack-oâ-lanterns that were lit on porches, and the ghosts hanging in the trees. There was a full moon. There was light on my shoulders.â
âAnything else?â
âI stared at the street sign on the corner. All Hallows Lane.â
âThatâs ironic,â the doctor points out needlessly.
âYes.â
âHow long did you stand there?â His question is quiet.
âUntil they came and took me away.â
_____________________________________________

It’s been quite awhile since I have had the pleasure of not only reading an intense psychological thriller but also a novel written by Courtney Cole. Courtney Cole is writing under the pseudo name of Courtney Evan Tate to explore the darker nature of her imaginations. No matter what name she is writing under she delivers an outstanding reading experience.
On the surface it looks like Dr. Corrine Cabot has an enchanted life. Â She is a successful and overworked ER Physician but highly respected in her field. Â She has the perfect husband, who not only respects her career but loves her deeply. Together they have built the perfect life and perfect dream home. Â All of that is just a camouflage covering up the real truth of Corrine’s dark past.
Corrine has blocked the violent, dark past from her memories but now they are starting to surface. As the memories start to surface, ghosts start appearing. Â Her perfectly structured life begins to fall to pieces. Â Her wonderful husband is beginning to show his true colors. As her life begins to unravel and the bloody truths begin to surface, Corinne is breaking into pieces. Â She has to face the truth of her dark past before it’s too late.
Such Dark Things held me captive. I read this book in one sitting. Courtney did a wonderful job slowly building a hair raising thriller that would make a fantastic movie. I hope she continues to write this genre of fiction. She has a true talent.
I highly recommend reading Such Dark Things by Courtney Evan Tate!
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About Courtney Evan Tate:
Courtney Evan Tate is the nom de plume for New York Times bestselling author, Courtney Cole. Courtney Evan Tate is her darker side… the side that explores shadowy places.
Courtney lives in Florida with her husband and kids. She has a passion for raising drug addiction awareness, the Marine Corp (her middle son is a Marine) and being introspective on the human condition.
To learn more about her, you can visit www.courtneycolewrites.com.

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