Review
“Readers will undoubtedly be reminded of the kids of Stand by Me and even IT. . . . [The] first-person narration alternates between past and present, taking full advantage of chapter-ending cliffhangers. A swift, cleverly plotted debut novel that ably captures the insular, slightly sinister feel of a small village. Children of the 1980s will enjoy the nostalgia.”—Kirkus Reviews
“[A] promising debut . . . with the nightmarish inevitability of the Grimmest of tales . . . her storytelling prowess is undeniable.”—Publishers Weekly
“CJ Tudor has written an utterly original novel—a thriller in which the suspense comes not simply from what happens, but from that dark place within the human mind from which all the greatest mysteries and terrors emerge. This one will hold you in its grip to the last page.”—Joyce Maynard, New York Times bestselling author of Under the Influence and To Die For
“What a great book. A twisty thriller and downright creepy ending. Five stars.”—Sarah Pinborough, New York Times bestselling author of Behind Her Eyes
“Imaginative, with an intriguing premise that straddles two fascinating worlds. It’s a frenetic ride that’s deep and alluring, oozing with suspense. A rollicking good time.”—Steve Berry, New York Times bestselling author of The 14th Colony
“C.J. Tudor knows the twelve-year-old who still lives in all of us, that kid who chills himself to the bone with an intuition of what lurks in the woods, or in his own closet, and The Chalk Man walks the haunted bridge between then and now—between sheer childhood terrors and a true crime so grisly and personal it’s cold hand never leaves the back of your neck. Suburban adolescents on bikes, squeamish love, nascent sexuality meets adult-world obsession and lust and violence . . . and through it all runs an affecting story of friendship, loss, and the inescapable frailties of mind and body.” —Tim Johnston, New York Times Bestselling author of Descent
“A cleverly constructed, artfully told tale of secrets, lies, and warped passions—featuring a troubled protagonist, a terrible murder that wasn’t what it seemed to be, and a raging monster at the heart of it all.”—John Verdon, internationally bestselling author of Think of a Number and the Nero Award-winning Peter Pan Must Die
“C.J. Tudor’s The Chalk Man is a stunning debut, a riveting thriller about the powerful grip of the past and the unbreakable bonds of childhood friendship. The ending of this smasher will completely throw you for a loop. Don’t miss a word of it!”—David Bell, bestselling author of Bring Her Home and Somebody I Used to Know
“The Chalk Man is an intricate and surprising book that will reward the reader who approaches it with the attention it deserves.”—Thomas Perry, New York Times bestselling author of The Old Man
“Tense, skillful storytelling.”—Ali Land, internationally bestselling author of, Good Me Bad Me
“Kept me up until five in the morning. Wonderfully written. I loved it!”—Kimberley Chambers, bestselling author of Backstabber and The Wronged
“It’s been a while since I’ve read such an impressive debut. The pace was perfectly judged, the characters superbly drawn and there’s a creeping sense of unease that starts with the prologue and grows throughout the book. And then that ending! It feels so fresh and deserves to be a huge success.”—James Oswald, bestselling author of the Inspector McLean series
“What an amazing debut! Such an ingenious, original idea. I was engrossed from the very first page. I loved how the 1986 and present day storylines weaved so skillfully together to create that unforgettable and unexpected ending. Compelling, taut and so very, very chilling. This book will haunt you!”—Claire Douglas, bestselling author of Last Seen Alive
“Impossible to put down, cleverly constructed and executed.” —Ragnar Jonasson, author of the bestselling Dark Iceland series
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Prologue
The girl’s head rested on a small pile of orange-and-brown leaves.
Her almond eyes stared up at the canopy of sycamore, beech and oak, but they didn’t see the tentative fingers of sunlight that poked through the branches and sprinkled the woodland floor with gold. They didn’t blink as shiny black beetles scurried over their pupils. They didn’t see anything any more, except darkness.
A short distance away, a pale hand stretched out from its own small shroud of leaves as if searching for help, or reassurance that it was not alone. None was to be found. The rest of her body lay out of reach, hidden in other secluded spots around the woods.
Close by, a twig snapped, loud as a firecracker in the stillness, and a flurry of birds exploded out of the undergrowth. Someone approached.
They knelt down beside the unseeing girl. Their hands gently caressed her hair and stroked her cold cheek, fingers trembling with anticipation. Then they lifted up her head, dusted off a few leaves that clung to the ragged edges of her neck, and placed it care- fully in a bag, where it nestled among a few broken stubs of chalk.
After a moment’s consideration, they reached in and closed her eyes. Then they zipped the bag shut, stood up and carried it away.
Some hours later, police officers and the forensic team arrived. They numbered, photographed, examined and eventually took the girl's body to the morgue, where it lay for several weeks, as if awaiting completion.
It never came. There were extensive searches, questions and appeals but, despite the best efforts of all the detectives and al the town's men, her head was never found, and the girl in the woods was never put together again.
Chapter 1
2016
Start at the beginning.
The problem was, none of us ever agreed on the exact beginning. Was it when Fat Gav got the bucket of chalks for his birthday? Was it when we started drawing the chalk figures or when they started to appear on their own? Was it the terrible accident? Or when they found the first body?
Any number of beginnings. Any of them, I guess, you could call the start. But really, I think it all began on the day of the fair. That’s the day I remember most. Because of Waltzer Girl, obviously, but also because it was the day that everything stopped being normal.
If our world was a snow globe, it was the day some casual god came along, shook it hard and set it back down again. Even when the foam and flakes had settled, things weren’t the way they were before. Not exactly. They might have looked the same through the glass but, on the inside, everything was different.
That was also the day I first met Mr. Halloran, so, as beginnings go, I suppose it’s as good as any. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
About the Author
C. J. TUDOR lives in Nottingham, England with her partner and three-year-old daughter. Over the years she has worked as a copywriter, television presenter, voiceover and dog-walker. She is now thrilled to be able to write full-time, and doesn't miss chasing wet dogs through muddy fields all that much. THE CHALK MAN is her first novel. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
![The Chalk Man: A Novel by [C. J. Tudor]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/51vchnk8GhS._SY346_.jpg)
