Erin Kelly

Series: Broadchurch

Published on: 14/08/2014

Genre: , ,

Inspired by the first season of the BAFTA award-winning ITV series, this is the official, unmissable Broadchurch novel. Incredibly moving and containing never-before-seen material, it takes you inside the minds and motivations of the unforgettable cast of characters.

It’s a hot July morning in the Dorset town of Broadchurch when Beth Latimer realises that her eleven-year-old son, Danny, is missing. As Beth searches desperately for her boy, her best friend, local police officer DS Ellie Miller, arrives at work to find that the promotion she was promised has been given to disreputable Scottish outsider DI Alec Hardy.

When Danny’s body is found on the beach Ellie must put her feelings aside as she works with DI Hardy to solve the mystery of Danny’s death. As the case becomes a murder investigation the news hits the national press, jolting sleepy Broadchurch into the national spotlight.

As the town’s secrets begin to unravel, members of this tight-knit community begin to consider those in their midst. Right now it’s impossible to know who to trust…

Praise for Broadchurch: The Novel

‘This is the author’s own take on the story, with even more atmosphere, emotion and twists than the TV original.’ Essentials Magazine

‘Kelly’s novelisation of the eponymous British TV series, works as both a classic puzzle and an unnerving portrait of a little English town wracked by a young boy’s murder… Kelly folds a loving portrait of rural Dorset and a well-made whodunit into a painstaking account of the grief and unimaginable pain that follow in the wake of one child’s murder.’  Kirkus Starred Review

‘Even if you know whodunnit, there are lots of fresh twists for fans of the series’ Good Housekeeping


Click to read a sample

Sample of Broadchurch


One road in, one road out. Broadchurch isn’t on the way to anywhere and you don’t go there by accident.

This sleepy coastal town is preparing to wake up for the summer season, but tonight nothing stirs. It is the crisp, clean night that follows a hot, cloudless day. There is a full moon and stars prickle the sky. Waves drag and crash as the petrol-black sea retreats from the beach. The Jurassic cliffs above glow amber, as though still radiating the heat they absorbed during the day.

On the deserted High Street, few shops bother to keep their lights on overnight. A single page of newsprint – yesterday’s news – tumbles noiselessly down the middle of the road. The Broadchurch Echo headquarters and the neighbouring tourist office are in shadow, save for the occasional blink of computer equipment on standby.

In the harbour, boats bob and masts clank in the shadows. Overlooking the cobbles and jetties is the modern police station, its round steel keep clad in blond wood. The blue light outside flickers. Even a sleepy town keeps one eye open at night.

The church on the hill is unlit, the rich jewel colours of its stained-glass windows dulled to a uniform satin black. A weathered poster reading LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR AS THYSELF flaps uselessly from the parish noticeboard.

At the other end of town, the Latimer house is in darkness too. Their semi in Spring Close is like all the others on their estate; their estate is like all the others in the country. Moonlight shines through eleven-year-old Danny’s halfopen bedroom window; silvering posters, toys and an empty single bed. The side gate is ajar and the latch bangs slightly in the breeze but the sound does not wake his parents Beth and Mark, who sleep back-to-back underneath a BHS duvet. A bedside clock ticks off the seconds. It is 3.16 in the morning.

Danny is a mile and a half away, shivering in his thin grey T-shirt and black jeans. He is sixty feet above the sea, his toes inches from the cliff edge. A sharp gust whips his hair into little needles that jab at his face. Tears chase blood down his cheeks and the wind rips the cries from his lips. Below him is a sheer drop. He is afraid to look down. He is even more afraid to look back.

The sea breeze snakes through the town until it reaches his home and bangs the latch more insistently. Beth and Mark sleep on. The bedside clock jumps to 3.19, then stops.

On the clifftop, Danny closes his eyes.

One road in, one road out. Tonight, no engine fills the silence and the black-tar sweep of the coast road is unbroken by headlights. Nobody comes in to Broadchurch and nobody leaves.

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About the author:

Erin Kelly

ERIN KELLY wrote the official Broadchurch novel, published in August 2014. Broadchurch was selected as a prestigious Novel of the Year (2014) by Kirkus Reviews in the USA and has been translated into eleven languages around the world, garnering international critical acclaim and bestseller status. Kelly is also the author of the critically acclaimed psychological […]

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