Showing results by narrator "Victoria Morrison" in All Categories

Have you ever walked home at night, keys in hand, ready to throw a punch in self-defence? That’s how it all started. The killing spree, I mean. I sort of tripped into this role. Literally. The first one was following me. That guy from the nightclub who wouldn’t leave me alone. I pushed him, he stumbled, and fell onto his own broken wine bottle. Oops. It was such a waste of a good house white. But now I can’t seem to stop and nor do I want to. I’ve got a taste for revenge and quite frankly, I’m killing it.

My name is Kitty Collins and I’m a serial killer. I don’t want to kill. It’s just so hard to resist. Some men really, really deserve it. Men like Blaze Bundy, an anonymous influencer spreading misogyny online. He’s making it very hard for me to control my murderous urges. Meanwhile I’m in the South of France to watch my mother getting marry a man I’ve never met. I should be drinking cocktails and focusing on my tan, not plotting a murder. But a woman’s work is never done.

Something bad happened last night. My best friend Posey is dead. The police think it was a tragic accident. I know she was murdered. But I can’t remember a thing. I’ve woken up with the hangover from hell, a stranger in my bed, and I’ve gone viral for the worst reasons. There’s only thing stopping me from dying of shame. I need to find a killer.

After nine years of dating, it’s a question of when not if Holly’s boyfriend Will is going to propose. She’s blindsided when rather than popping the question, he suggests they open their relationship and date other people. For the last five years, Fliss and her boyfriend Ash have been in a happily open relationship, but, now they’re turning thirty, he wants to close it which throws Fliss’s whole ethos of living life on her own terms rather than society’s expectations into question.

Have you ever walked home at night, keys in hand, ready to throw a punch in self-defence? That’s how it all started. The killing spree, I mean. I sort of tripped into this role. Literally. The first one was following me. That guy from the nightclub who wouldn’t leave me alone. I pushed him, he stumbled, and fell onto his own broken wine bottle. Oops. It was such a waste of a good house white. But now I can’t seem to stop and nor do I want to, I’ve got a taste for revenge and quite frankly, I’m killing it.