Blog Tour: In Her Own Backyard

 

Thriller

Date Published: March 26, 2026

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

Every street holds a secret . . .

 

New to the neighborhood and reeling from the traumatic birth of her second child, Marlowe Moore is barely holding it together. Battling postpartum depression and anxiety, she’s desperate for stability.

But when she learns that a woman who once lived in her family’s new home vanished without a trace, Marlowe becomes obsessed. As strange things happen and neighborly smiles feel like veiled threats, Marlowe can’t shake the feeling that someone is hiding something.

She spirals further into paranoia, fixated on the abandoned case and determined to seek justice. But how can a woman who feels lost find a missing person?

Juggling the demands of her beloved family and her harrowing mental illness, Marlowe doesn’t realize she is caught in a cat-and-mouse game that could cost her everything … including her life.

 

Excerpt

Prologue

I don’t think it through. I run out the door, my body instinctively kicking into survival mode and compelling me to move. Fast. Away. Now.

Outside, the cold night air hits my face and stings furiously. I peel off my shirt, bloody from a busted nose, but I never stop running. Everything escalated so quickly. Unsure of how it all happened, I don’t trust anything except my bare feet beating against the asphalt to the rhythm of the blood pounding in my ears.

A sharp pain shoots through my ankle. I don’t stop until I make it to a public place: the loop around Virginia Lake. At this hour, I am alone. Still, I stay out of the streetlamp’s glow. Glancing around in case he followed me, I limp over to the shore, splash water on my bloodied face, then heave the contents of my stomach into the cattails whispering wordless warnings to me. Straightening, I reach into my pocket to discover something disastrous. In the mayhem, I left my phone behind.

I can’t call for help . . . but I’m also unreachable. Maybe that’s a good thing? Maybe no one knows where I am. I sink back down, trying to think straight. The throbbing in my head drowns out reason. I can’t go anywhere, not like this. I’ll wait it out here for a while, then make my way back home. He has to leave at some point.

With no watch or phone, my only clues to the passage of time are the amber moon rising in the cloudy sky and my legs cramping in this crouched position. Surely, he’s cooled off by now, gone to his place. I hobble home hugging the shadows, shivering from low blood sugar and wondering who lives within the darkened windows looking down on me.

Should I knock, ask to call the police from someone’s phone? Would you, neighbor with the red door, risk the late hour and open to a woman you barely know? If you did, would you look suspiciously at my disarray, or would you lean in for a closer look at the bruises forming on my body? Would you ask, “How can I help?” Or would you convince yourself you shouldn’t get involved, that your eyes are probably playing tricks on you in the darkness?

My feet shuffle forward, leaving the impulse behind. At the sight of my garden gate, exhaustion descends heavily over my whole body. All I want is to crash into bed. I sleepwalk through the entrance, down the path, and reach for my door. Still ajar…?

In one swift motion, someone knocks me backwards off my feet. I land with a sickening thud. My vision blurs to blackness. And now, like the last lingering notes of a song your ears strain to hear, I am gone.

 

About the Author

 

 Ashley Hanna-Morgan is a licensed clinical social worker (LCSW) certified in perinatal mental health (PMH-C). In addition to her work as a psychotherapist, she writes about mental health to advocate for change and inspire hope. In 2016, she wrote The Afterglow, a mindfulness and cognitive behavioral therapy curriculum that supports parents with postpartum depression and anxiety. In 2017, she published I Gave Birth to My Heart, a collection of poems about the secret anguishes and innumerable joys of reinventing oneself after postpartum depression.

When she isn’t counseling clients or volunteering with Postpartum Support International, Ashley loves to experiment in the kitchen and spend as much time outside as possible in San Diego, where she resides with her family. In Her Own Backyard is her first novel.

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