My first novel, Out of Humanity, is a romantic adventure that will keep you guessing until the last page. I’m so pleased at the positive reviews on amazon.co.uk. If you’re looking for a romantic mystery with a twist this might be for you.
Paperback and eBook Versions Available From amazon.co.uk
Kindle Edition £0.00 with kindleunlimited or £1.99 to buy.
Paperback £8.99.
First four chapters available free to view on Amazon and find a small taster below.
Inclusivity
For reasons of inclusivity and in an effort to be dyslexic-friendly, I have gone against industry standards and for the main body of the paperback used a size 11 sans-serif font (Calibri) with the text aligned to the left without justification. These measures increase the readability for everyone.
Out of Humanity by Martin Tuffs
CHAPTER 1
Standing by the barrier, waiting for the train to pass summed up my day, my week, my life. Whenever I was strongly minded to do something, obstacles would soon appear, frustrating my progress and holding me back. In this case, I was anxious to get home as a storm was fast approaching, and as I reached the crossing, the barriers came down. With red flashing lights warning of an oncoming train, I found myself gazing at the pedestrian gate in front of me. A sign cautioned against crossing when the barriers were down, but should I take the chance? There would be plenty of time for me to get across as the train had not yet come into sight. But I played it safe, obeying the rules, like normal, and waited.
Having been cooped up in the office all day, the mildness of the autumn evening had lured me out. I had felt the need to stretch my legs but, more particularly, to fill my lungs with air and destress. I had taken my usual route over the crossing and down a quiet, tree-lined lane, just off the main road which took me past St Mary’s that stood among blackened gravestones. The church was built on the high ground of a gravel ridge and behind it was the local nature reserve. I had walked a circuit of the lake, a remnant of the gravel pit that had long since been quarried, without meeting a soul and headed for home. As I walked back past the church, the solitary lamp that adorned the wooden lychgate lit up in front of me. As I could not see a motion detector, I surmised that the light coming on as I approached was a mere coincidence, perhaps activated by the onset of dusk. I had instinctively paused and looked up to see dark, leaden clouds drifting in from the west, a sure sign that rain was on its way. I felt the chill air of a sudden breeze and the hairs on the back of my neck bristled. I had zipped up my hoody, set off with a quickened pace and was soon back on the main road only to come up against the barrier.
A minute or so went by before the train appeared, passing slowly in front of me as it prepared to stop at the station just beyond the crossing. As I tried to resolve individual faces from the shadowy silhouettes of passengers through the carriage windows, there was an explosion of light accompanied by a thunderous crack, and I was launched into the air amidst a cloud of dust.
A dead silence ensued and, to my astonishment, I found myself sitting in the road and looking back towards the crossing. I had been thrown a good ten yards and felt lightheaded but otherwise unscathed. As I came back to myself, the barriers rose and a lady, who was dressed in jogging gear and had been waiting at the other side, sprinted over the crossing and dropped to her knees. To my horror, I realised she was attending a body that was lying face down in the road, I froze.
“Quick, phone an ambulance,” she shouted in my direction, “the lightning strike has knocked him unconscious.”
Fumbling around in my pockets to find my phone, I realised all feeling in my hands had been lost, perhaps I had sustained injuries after all. Raising my hands to my face, I could see nothing remarkable about them. As I got to my feet, legs weightless with trepidation, a man brushed passed me.
“I’m on it,” he shouted back to the lady and rushed to join her. He gave brief details to the emergency services before looking toward the lady for advice.
“Tell them he’s alive but unconscious,” she instructed, “his breathing is okay and I’ve not had to do CPR but he’s been out for about a minute.” I found myself faltering towards the scene, was I that terrified of what I might find? The lady began to gently roll the victim onto his side. I realised that this would reveal his face, and I braced myself for whatever injuries had been sustained. A moment later, I froze once again, this time in sheer terror, I recognised the face, it was mine.