It was summer in the mountains when five small children vanished from their nursery school picnic. The heat was stifling that day, the tinkle of an ice-cream van in the air.... Three-and-a-half years later, in the dead of winter, the children are returned to their families...one by one. All except for Ivy - the granddaughter of Homicide Detective Kate Wakeland. The other four children say Ivy is dead.

It's Christmas Eve - a time of wonder, magic, anticipation....And terror. A father who will go to any lengths to feed his hungry children. An unsuspecting woman who inherits a house with a deadly secret. A murderous widow who shares a train carriage with Jack the Ripper. Two burglars who bite off more than they can chew, during a late-night raid. These, and many more bedtime stories, come hideously to life, in Mark L'Estrange's 19 tales of terror - each set on the most festive night of the year. 

Taking a deep breath of the fresh, leafy air, Abigail promises herself: Today she is going to make her parents accept her future husband Pete’s family. She’s planned three days away from it all in a beautiful, forested nature reserve. Out here, with almost no one else around, their families will have nowhere to run. They might have clashed from the moment they met—with their stark differences in backgrounds and personalities—but now, Abigail thinks, they will have to get along.

We arrived at a villa on the Amalfi Coast, ready to enjoy a sun-soaked weekend with our oldest friends—and one new face. By the end of the weekend, my husband is found dead. But how can I mourn him, when on the day of his funeral I discover he was having an affair? The only suspects are the women we went on holiday with. My oldest, closest friends. Do I really want to dig into my husband's secret? Do I really want to know who betrayed me? And as I start to unravel their secrets...do I really believe his death was an accident?

"There’s someone I want you to meet," Belle says, as a man draws up to her side. He’s tall with dark hair and stubble on his square jaw. He’s not exactly smiling, but the corner of his mouth curls upwards as he slides his hand around my daughter’s waist.