High Pressure by Sam Blake
As temperatures soar across Europe during the hottest summer for forty years, a series of hoax terrorist attacks is generating panic in London. Then a bus blows up on Oxford Street and the hoaxes have suddenly become real.
Student Brioni O'Brien has been desperately trying to contact her older sister since she unexpectedly returned early from travelling, so when Marissa's bag is found near the site of the explosion, she fears the worst.
Teaming up with terrorism expert Anna Lockharte to search for Marissa, Brioni discovers that her sister had got herself into a very dangerous situation - and that now she and Anna could be caught in the fallout.
About the author.
Sam Blake’s debut novel, Little Bones, was No 1 in Ireland for four weeks, and was nominated for Irish Crime Novel of the Year. It launched the bestselling Cat Connolly trilogy. Her first standalone psychological thriller, Keep Your Eyes On Me, went straight to No 1 and its follow-up, The Dark Room was an Eason Ireland No 1 for three weeks. Sam is originally from St. Albans in Hertfordshire but has lived at the foot of the Wicklow mountains for more years than she lived in the UK.
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Buy Links
Amazon UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/High-Pressure-totally-addictive-thriller-ebook/dp/B099W4DDRM
Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/High-Pressure-totally-addictive-thriller-ebook/dp/B099W4DDRM
I’m so pleased to be able to share with you an extract from the book!
In the embassy kitchen staff loo, Brioni pulled out the piggies holding her hair in place. Their mother had called them that, the elastics she’d used to put her and Mar’s hair in pigtails before they went to school. Before the cancer had taken her. Teasing out her hair, layered in a sharp asymmetric bob, Brioni tucked the pink strands behind her ears. Siobhan was lucky; her ginger was dark, beautiful. Brioni’s naturalcolour was pale red, more strawberry blonde, with all of the sunburn issues and none of the impact. Pink was her colour now, sometimes purple. Once in Myanmar, blue. It depended on her mood and what she could get her hands on, or how adventurous the student hairdressers she found were. She normally got her hair cut for free in whichever city she’d arrived in. There weren’t many people prepared to risk theirs to a trainee’s creativity and trust that the talent was there, too.
Brioni looked in the mirror. Mar would love this shade of pink – almost neon. She’d always been a proper girly girl, had worn skirts when Brioni had been in jeans, hated getting dirty.
Why did Mar hate her? Why hadn’t she answered?
No one talks about the pain of leaving your people, no matter how much of a misfit you are. She’d never felt so excited as when she’d got on the plane to India. That’s where she’d started. She’d always been fascinated by the blend of religions there when she’d been in school, and she needed to go somewhere warm.
She’d quickly found her tribe. Travelling from job to job, discovering more misfits and adventurers and romantics and nerds, she had met others when they were vulnerable and messy, just like her.
And Malachi was one of those people. She’d listened to his relationship woes deep into the night and he’d taught her taekwon do on the beach. He’d responded as soon as she’d called from Heathrow, giving her space in his shared house and finding her a job, one that would tide her over until she could pluck up the courage to go and knock on her sister’s front door.
What was going on?
Her WhatsApp messages had the blue double tick telling her they’d been opened – but they hadn’t been answered. It didn’t make sense. And Brioni couldn’t wait any longer.
