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Latest Book
You Made Me Kill You
When fiction becomes reality, it can be a deadly fate
Psychologist Maureen Sinclair gets an unusual request: a best-selling author wants to research a character for her latest book through role-play. Maureen has an extensive background in psychopathy; setting aside the hazardous ways it can go wrong, she agrees to it. Coming into each session as her character, a murderous and psychopathic wife, Diana Steinbeck struggles to set aside fiction versus her own reality. A best-selling author, a qualified psychologist, and a vindictive wife: what could go wrong?
Allison Relyea is a two-time psychological thriller author of A Cure Through Love and You Made Me Kill You, as well as three poetic self-help books: medicine, The Honeymoon of Healing, and Undoing Unearthing and Becoming. She is a part-time freelance author and editor. Allison graduated from the The New School in New York City with a degree in creative writing. She lives in Arizona.
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Poetry and Prose Collection
Allison has shifted the great saying, “I wish I knew then what I know now,” to “What I didn’t know then I am using to move forward now.” In her conversational poetic style of work, Allison weaves together themes of both the pain and beauty of healing and through navigating painful experiences in medicine, The Honeymoon of Healing, and Undoing Unearthing Becoming.
Preview of Allison’s third thriller:
CHAPTER ONE
My mother died when I was eleven years old. Taken, murdered.
The last gift my mother ever gave me was a collection of poetry by Emily Dickinson. It was a rare edition she found in a local bookshop in London. Palm sized, it was thick and black; with gold quilling along the front, and bleeding into the spine, it weaved along the book like Ivy on a gothic, metal gate leading to an enchanted (or disenchanted) mansion. The title simply read Selected Poems by Emily Dickinson. On the back, at the bottom it said, Notting Hill Press.
The day after my mother gave it to me, annotated and filled with her thoughts, circles of lines that reminded her of me, she was never seen again.
[…]
In some way, her notes in there were her final words to me. The police botched her investigation, I know they did. She would never leave on her own accord, and there was a lack of evidence to prove she was one of the victims of the Massachusetts Masochist. I think differently.
And with a gun to my head, something in my gut tells me I am right.