Too Far Gone (Sam Pope Series Book 4)

Sure, the office was filled with the younger generation, fixated on ‘pumping out as much content as possible’. They were a vital cog in The Pulse machine. Their empty, shallow articles generated enough money for Nigel to fund the real writers, the ones who put the world into words and laid it out for the public to see.

Singh hopped into the shower, the warm water crashing against her toned body and immediately relieving the tension that had a stranglehold of her muscles. She stood for a few moments, allowing the water to engulf her entire body, the sound of the water hitting the tiles drowning out the worries that were dominating her mind.

Now, as she sat at home most days, she’d allowed her standards to slip. Everything had slipped. It was nearly five o’clock in the evening and she was still lounging in her pyjamas. Her usual routine of going to the gym, keeping herself in peak physical condition, had fallen by the wayside two months ago, when her superiors enforced an ‘extended per

It’s a sad day when we fear the law, not for what it does, but for what it doesn’t.

There were plenty of hacks who were more than happy to bash out a two thousand word click bait article and collect their wages. It didn’t matter if it was an article body shaming a young celebrity, or a pointless list about a popular TV show. Some of the newer ‘journalists’ were chasing clicks, which meant more money. It was the way the world had b

the bitter cold of the English weather slapping him in the face with a frozen palm.

He followed the crowd through the usual rigmarole of entering the UK, watching with pleasure as the computerised passport checker kept failing, inciting an instant rage from a generation of people who are used to instant gratification.

As he drummed his fingers on the desk, Helal stared at his screen. The article had flowed from his fingertips like an unstoppable wave, his trademark dramatic flair dancing across his words.

This was not how her life was supposed to go.