Excerpt from Iona Iverson's Rules for Commuting by Clare Pooley, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Piers banged his hands on the table and widened his eyes at the women around him in a silent plea. He felt someone pat his back in a motion that was more massage than the extreme surgery required. Then, thank goodness, a sharp, hard thump that surely must do the job? With a huge sense of relief, he felt the grape shift slightly. Before it settled back into position.

I cannot die right here, right now, he thought. Not on this ghastly commuter train surrounded by nobodies and weirdos. Then, an even worse thought: If I die today, Candida will find out. She'll realize what I've been doing, and the kids will grow up knowing what a loser their father really is.

From his position, hunched over the table, Piers could see the red suit standing up, like a volcano erupting, and a loud voice bellowed, "IS THERE A DOCTOR ON THE TRAIN?!?" Please, please, he thought, let there be a doctor on the train. He'd give up everything he had just to be able to breathe again. Are you listening, Universe? You can have it all.

Piers closed his eyes, but he could still see red-either the ghost of the crimson tweed, or the blistering of blood vessels behind his eyeballs.

"I'm a nurse!" he heard from somewhere behind him. Then, within a few seconds that felt like an eternity, two arms clenched round him from behind, and he was pulled up from his crouching position, the arms thrusting deep into his stomach-once, twice, three times.

Excerpted from Iona Iverson's Rules for Commuting by Clare Pooley. Copyright © 2022 by Clare Pooley. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.