1. I’ve lived all around the world. I was born in France to parents of Dutch and Finnish ancestry, raised in Canada, then moved to Australia and finally England. I’ve lived there long enough now to call beautiful Buckinghamshire home. Through my school years in Canada, my dad was in the air force so we moved frequently. Being an outsider looking in most of my life made me an observer of people – a useful skill for a writer.
2. I once nearly fell into the Grand Canyon. It was before the era of selfies, but my camera could be set for a three second delay. I put it on a rock and leapt back for a photo. Wobbled a bit against another rock and nearly fell back. I smiled, the photo was taken, and then I turned … there was a massive drop off behind the rock where I nearly fell. How everything can change in an instant because of one action or inaction – even make the difference between life and death – is something I play with in writing.
3. I can lucid dream. I was plagued with nightmares as a child and reasoned that if I knew I was dreaming, it wouldn’t be so scary. I taught myself to lucid dream, by coming up with tests as to whether something happening was real or a dream – ways to test reality, like how time moves and if things aren’t how the world usually works. If I decided I was dreaming, I could change what was happening and make it less scary. I’m sure it’s part of the reason I’m fascinated by dreams and different states of consciousness, which is important in The Patient. I can also deliberately dream about my characters, both to play with plot and to give me more of a feeling of who they are, inside.
4. Things I write have a habit of coming true. I predicted Brexit in the Slated trilogy and wrote about a pandemic in Contagion.
5. I have a very large soft toy collection and they all have names. If we have a day out, we take an Official Soft Toy Representative along with us to report back to the others. Though since we got cockapoo Scooby, they have to stay on high shelves at home.
6. Despite being afraid of heights (see 2), I’ve done the Sydney Harbour Bridge climb. Somehow being harnessed to the bridge made it OK, since if I fell I could only fall so far, right? I love to be scared if there is no actual risk of death, which is probably what led me to delve into dark subjects in my writing.
7. Teri Terry really is my name – I married into it.
Author Bio:
Teri Terry is an award-winning, internationally bestselling author of thrillers for young adults and adults. She has lived in France, Canada, Australia and England at more addresses than she can count, acquiring four degrees, a selection of passports and an unforgettable name along the way. Before writing full time, Teri has been a scientist, a lawyer, an optometrist, and worked in schools, libraries and for a charity. She now calls a village in Buckinghamshire home, where she lives with her husband and Scooby, a very cute and naughty cockapoo.
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The Patient
Teri Terry's latest book is released on 6th February 2024
I feel the steady thump of my new heart beating inside me. The surgeon said everything went well. But I can’t stop thinking about my donor: the girl who was killed. Her death saved my life. But now whoever took hers is coming for mine…
I can’t believe it when I learn my donor’s identity. The attack on Flora was all over the news. From my hospital bed I read every article, obsess over every word and soon I feel like I know her: the beautiful girl with flame-coloured hair, adored by everyone around her. Why would anyone hurt someone so perfect?
When Flora’s family reach out to me, I’m unsure. My hands are shaking as I arrive at their grand mansion with its golden stone and sprawling gardens, but they’re warm and welcoming, tears shining in her mother’s eyes as she smiles at me.
She even tells me to take anything I want from Flora’s things, as she can’t bear to go through them herself. I run my fingers over the racks of beautiful designer items, carefully choosing outfits in Flora’s signature yellow, the bright colour complementing the new flush in my cheeks. I think of the years I’ve wasted being ill, and the crushing loneliness I thought would never end. I deserve this.
But then there’s a violent attack on another patient who received one of Flora’s organs. My heart – Flora’s heart – races dangerously fast. Is it a coincidence?
Maybe I’ve made a mistake by stepping into Flora’s life. Has this second chance really saved me? Or has it cost me everything?
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