An atmospheric blend of historical fiction and psychological suspense set against the turmoil of the French Revolution, The  Woman in the Wallpaper is Kristin Hannah’s The Nightingale meets the historical thriller bestseller The Frozen River . When Sofi and Lara, two sisters uprooted by their father’s death, begin work at the famed Toile de Jouy wallpaper factory, they notice something chilling: a recurring figure in the wallpaper—a woman whose tragic history may now be repeating itself. After leaving their family home in Marseilles, Sofi and Lara settle in a quiet village near Paris. But life at the factory is far from peaceful. At the heart of the wallpaper’s idyllic vignettes is the haunting image of Madame Justine, the factory owner’s late wife, whose untimely and suspicious death still casts a shadow. As Lara finds herself drawn to Josef Oberst, the enigmatic son of the factory owner, unsettling parallels emerge between her life and the tragic events depicted in the wallpaper. Dreams turn dark, suspicion deepens, and Lara begins to fear that her fate may be inextricably tied to the ill-fated Justine. Perfect for fans of Kate Quinn and Ariel Lawhon books, and the intricate storytelling of All the Colors of the Dark , The  Woman in the Wallpaper immerses readers in French history while unraveling a chilling psychological puzzle. With vivid depictions of the French Revolution's chaos and an eerie, original premise, this novel masterfully explores paranoia, destiny, and the unseen threads connecting past and present. "Spellbinding and decadent . . . an astounding debut." --Susan Stokes-Chapman, author of Pandora "An epic, elaborate plot told with exquisite, captivating detail. . . . An astonishingly accomplished debut." --Cari Thomas, bestselling author of Threadneedle "An exquisite page-turner that will keep you up at night." --Dr. Lindsey Fitzharris, bestselling author of The Butchering Art "That rare delight: a work of historical fiction that makes you consider anew the past you thought you understood, and see it through fresh eyes." --Laura Shepperson, author of Phaedra "Sweeping and yet intimate, powerful and passionate, and yet subtle and unnerving. A glorious read!" --Liz Hyder, author of The Gifts "We are gifted a platter of intriguing, unpredictable characters and an expertly plotted narrative that delights and amuses despite the darkly unsettling mystery." --Joanne Burn, author of The Hemlock Cure "Exquisite writing and a riveting plot." --Anna Mazzola, author of The Clockwork Girl After studying English Literature at the University of Durham,  Lora Jones  began her career in the TV industry, reading scripts and writing for ITV, the BBC, Channel 4, and others. Lora lives in the rugged, myth-steeped hills of North Wales, United Kingdom.  The Woman in the Wallpaper  is her first novel. Excerpt   Prologue   Paris, 18th October 1793 She sees the scene open up before her as the tumbril rounds the corner. For a moment she imagines the view ahead could be printed too, observes the way in which the high buildings lining the square darken the edges of her vision, creating a vignette, a pattern. She blinks hard.             She sees patterns in everything now, and momentarily wonders if this scene is even real at all or simply another deception. She forces herself to focus very hard upon it, waiting for it to vanish or change, to morph into something else entirely. But it does not.             The capital’s largest square—the Place de la Révolution—is thronging with crowds so dense it has swelled to bursting point, overflowing into the surrounding rues as far as the river’s edge. Her gaze travels beyond the mere size of the crowds, right to the heart of their common purpose. This mass of people is all sharp edges: splinters, spikes, snarls. Many are armed. Some break the skyline with pistols, some pierce it with pikes. Others wield a cruder arsenal: sickles, knives, shanks, items they have snatched-up or quickly fashioned.             The woman squints. At this distance the scene might almost be pastoral, the high-held weaponry nothing more than blades of meadow-grass, whipped and jostled by the wind. But they have gathered, she knows, to watch death come. Their hunger for it charges the air like a tropical storm.             There, beyond them all, at the head of the square and high on the scaffold, there she sees it. Taller than two men and looming darkly in its own shadow. The Half-Moon, the Fanlight, the Machine. Madame Guillotine . The tocsin bell begins to toll.