Page One.....

They were making love for the second time when she heard the door open. At first she made nothing of it: a small, domestic noise, the cat perhaps, or the last of the gale that had kept her awake most of the night.

She looked up at Max, expecting a reaction, but his eyes were closed, his face contorted, the usual half-grimace, an expression that always reminded her of a child wrestling with a particularly difficult sum. She lay back, fitting herself more closely to him, letting her own eyes close.

The noise again. Someone in the room. Definitely. She opened one eye. A man stood by the bed. He was slight, not tall. He was wearing jeans and a white cotton shirt. The eyes behind the ribbed black balaclava were watching her, the palest blue she'd ever seen. He had leather gloves on. He held a gun.

She gasped and tried to scream. Max, getting it wrong, began to climax. She stared up at the man, numb with shock, trying to interpret the movement he was making with the gun, the tiny sideways gesture. Then she understood. He was telling her to move over, to get out of the way. He'd come to kill Max. That was why he was standing there. That's why he'd brought the gun.

She began to squirm, trying to wriggle free, but Max was on the edge now, pressing down on her, panting and panting. She dug her nails into his back, a voiceless warning, feeling his body stiffen, and all the time her eyes never left the man by the bed, the way he held the gun, quite still.

When the noise came, it was infinitely soft, a gentle phut, Max's long body collapsing limply onto hers, the pillow beside her face suddenly wet with blood, and tissue, and fragments of bone. The gunman fired again, Max's body jerking with the impact, and she lay still a moment, not believing any of it, the strength in her arms quite gone. Then she began to ease the deadweight of Max's body, trying to lever him sideways. Finally, she managed it, struggling upright on the bed, cupping his shattered skull in her lap, looking desperately for the man with the gun, not finding him.

Reviews

Graham Hurley is on a roll. Sabbathman matches the pace and topicality of last year's Thunder in the Blood. His twists and action are electrifying.
Michael Hartland, Daily Telegraph

A brilliantly simply, effective and appealing idea as one man stands up against the greed and sleaze of government. My Book of the Week. First Class.
Sarah Broadhurst, Daily Express.

As good a read as you'll ever find....a wonderful, wonderful thriller-writer.
David Banks, Daily Mirror.

Cutting-edge, topical, and about as bang-up-to-date as you can get. Graham Hurley has done it again!
Roy Stockdill, Today.

Probably one of the best thrillers you'll ever read.
Charles Farrar, Lancashire Evening Telegraph.

A cracking good read - and one of the best British thrillers in years.
Simon Ritchie, Yorkshire Evening Press.

Hurley is already established in the thriller writer's premier league - and this puts him amongst the title-chasers. Brilliant.
Alison Ferst, North Eastern Evening Gazette