Excerpt:

It should have been obvious to Horacio at this point that things were just not going to go according to plan. The walk home, usually quite a beautiful one through an open field surrounded by the blushing autumn trees, was damp through a sudden downpour of rain as gentle and annoying as spit. He arrived home after slugging through what felt like miles of mud to collapse in his favourite big red chair, the one with the arms, covered in a thick coat of wet earth up to his knees.

He settled down there uncomfortably, trying his best not to think about how the world clearly wanted to kick his arse. It was just a bad few days; that was all. At least he had managed not to stumble in on two strange sleeping women. That was definitely an advantage. He knew, though, that the possibility of having to move on was quickly becoming more likely. IF Mr. Dover discovered where he lived... it could be disastrous. That had all been put behind him. He didn’t need any more of his past to creep up, leaving its slimy trail over the life he’d managed to carve himself. It might have been boring, but it was better than what had come before.

Though perhaps the ‘boring’ aspect was coming to an end, because the moment he thought it, Horacio’s pensive silence was broken by the most angry, aggressive shout he’d heard for as long as he could remember. So deep and guttural was it that he could not immediately determine whether it had come from inside – from a person – or from some kind of crazed animal or monster in the street. Even worse, it could have been a crazed animal inside the house.

With a horrible slow sinking feeling in his stomach, he realised it was definitely inside, and his mind flew to those two strange women. So, with hands that definitely weren’t shaking no matter what it may have looked like, he picked up the knife he mostly used to cut up vegetables and advanced into the hallway.

He didn’t need to go far.