Title: The Man Next Door
Author: Sheila Roberts
Publisher: MIRA
Publication Date: October 14,
2025
Pages: 368
Genre: Fiction/Romance
Formats: Hardcover, Paperback,
Kindle & Audiobook
Love in the Time of Serial Killers meets The Woman in the House
Across the Street from the Girl in the Window in this delightful romp about a
recently broke divorcee who moves in with her house-bound mother only to spend
their days spying on her grumpy, mysterious, and sexy new neighbor.
Zona never thought her life was headed this way, but here she is,
newly divorced and moving back in with her mom, Louise. After her gambling
addicted ex-husband lost all of their savings, including their daughter's
college fund, she doesn't really have a choice. She's cutting every coupon she
can and she's going to help put her daughter through nursing school, even if it
kills her.
This wasn't Louise's plan, either, laid up at home with a broken
leg after one unfortunate tumble on the senior singles cruise she'd been
looking forward to for months. But if she's going to spend all her time at
home, at least she's got her daughter there with her. And there's some hot new
eye candy next door to distract them both from their troubles. He appears to be
single and just around Zona's age. Could his arrival be the universe making
amends for everything it's put her through?
Maybe the universe isn't feeling as generous as Louise hoped.
There’s something lurking under that mans surface charm, something…dangerous?
And who's the woman they can hear him in all-out shouting matches with on the
other side of the fence? When the woman seems to disappear without a trace,
imaginations run wild. Or at least, Zona hopes it's just her mother's
imagination...
The Man Next Door is
available at Amazon.
Book Excerpt:
The House
The house on Glenwood Avenue had
taken on an air of darkness. Not simply because the previous owners had painted
its adobe outside dark gray and trimmed it with black, although that hadn’t
helped. It was what had happened inside the house even before they moved in.
Elder abuse. Louise Hartman, who
lived next door, had been the first to spot it. The single man rarely let his
grandmother out, and he never let anyone in, no matter how many cookies they
came with. He was the only unsociable person on the whole street. Louise had
known early on that he was hiding secrets.
But there are things you can’t hide
from people who pay attention. And Louise paid attention. The curtains were
always drawn, and the son rarely left the house. Neither did the old woman who
had arrived with him, not even to care for the roses which were starting to
wither from lack of attention. Lawn service had been stopped and weeds were
popping up everywhere. Neglect! cried
the house. Often old cars with nefarious looking drivers showed up after dark.
Drugs, for sure. The place sent off keep away vibes and the neighbors all did.
Including Louise. A woman living alone had to be careful.
One day the old woman in the house
next door got out. Louise had been checking her mail and saw the poor soul. She
was skinny as a wraith, wearing dirty women’s pajama bottoms and an equally
dirty men’s t-shirt. Her hair hung in greasy, gray strands, and when Louise
hurried over to say hello she saw the woman had bruises on her arms. Yes, older
people had thin skin, and they tended to bruise easily, but this woman had too
many to have just bumped against a counter. When Louise asked about them the
woman had looked mildly puzzled for a moment, then replied that little Sammy
was strong.
Louise had seen little Sammy. He was
a mammoth. And obviously brutal. Louise had called the authorities, and it
wasn’t long before Sammy was no longer around, and neither was the old woman.
According to the rumor mill, a relative had stepped in and moved her across the
country and put the house up for sale.
Then had come the middle-aged couple
with the dog. Happily married, both working, but with time for a chat by the
mailbox. One daughter, married, about to give birth to the first grandchild.
Perfect. They would bring back the happiness that had lived in the house when
Louise’s daughter Zona was growing up and laughing children had run back and
forth between the two homes.
But tragedy struck only a few months
later. The wife died suddenly. No one knew quite how. The funeral was small and
private, the wife cremated, and the man gone almost instantly. The house went
on the market again. And sat, waiting, like the neighbors, to see what would
happen next. People came and looked at it, but it remained empty.
Louise didn’t blame them. A miasma
enshrouded the place and she could almost feel … a presence hovering over
there, peering over the property line, whenever she went up her own front walk.
Her daughter insisted Louise was imagining things. A house was just a house. It
didn’t have a life of its own. And no, Zona hadn’t felt any creepy vibes since
she’d moved in with Louise. Of course, Zona was dealing with so much in her own
life she probably wouldn’t recognize a creepy vibe even if it came up to her
and rattled her bones.
Could a house absorb the emotions of
the people who lived in them? Did bad vibes linger long after those people had
moved out? Once infected, did that house become a magnet for more of the same?
Louise hoped not. She watched as the
realtor put a sold sign on the front lawn. Maybe the new owners would dispel
the gloom. Maybe she wouldn’t shiver every time she walked past the place.
Or maybe this unsettled feeling she
was getting was a premonition.
– Excerpted from The Man
Next Door by Sheila Roberts, MIRA, 2025. Reprinted with permission.
About
the Author
Her latest book is the romantic comedy, The Man Next Door.
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