The Girl in the Tower by Harrison Murphy VIRTUAL BOOK TOUR #TheGirlInTheTower #HarrisonMurphy @RandomTTours #BookExtract @harrisonmurph1.bsky.social

 

When the past lies buried beneath the waves, and the present hides behind a veneer, what power do we have over the future?

As high-flying energy magnate, Parsley Ringland, prepares for maternity leave, tragedy strikes. She passes out after a health complication and wakes up elsewhere. In the tower that sustained the life she had once known.

As she fights to protect herself and her unborn child, Parsley begins to fear for humanity itself. She is faced with an impossible dilemma. Does she keep the world in comforting darkness? Or expose a cruel truth that might destroy it?

Is it better to endure a terrible truth than to lounge inside a lie?

The Girl in the Tower by Harrison Murphy was published on 26 December 2025. As part of this #RandomThingsTours Virtual Book Tour, I am delighted to share an extract from the book with you today 

Extract from The Girl in the Tower by Harrison Murphy 

The opening sequence of sunset was broadcast around us.

We had left at sunrise; it had been a long journey. The ornithodroids were like stars, a substitute for streetlights. We weren’t just thankful for their torches penetrating the darkness though, as they had kept us sated and sustained, delivering a cavalcade of culinary delicacies. Returning to take the containers away for cleaning and re-use.

But now the suspendible had come to a stop. Figuratively lowered its anchor.

“We’re here!”

“Really? This exact spot is above where it used to be?”

“Where it still is.”

“Yes, of course,” I corrected myself.

“You said you’ve dived before, right?”

“Virtually a master at it.” 

We both laughed at the world’s most depressing inside joke as we donned our wetsuits. We helped each other with the scuba apparatus, which was much more sophisticated than what I had been accustomed to. Everything appeared to be in working order.

“Three, two, one...

We leant back from the side of the suspendible and plunged into the water, piercing the layer of detritus. The sophisticated headlamp provided a level of visibility like nothing I had known prior.

Though it wasn’t like all the other times. Although I could see everything, everything was nothing. A perfectly unobscured view of a void.

On previous descents, I had been surrounded by shoals of Csh. Naressed by straggly strands of seaweeds and grasses that had become disconnected from the seabed and sidled against me as I swam.

But this ocean was lifeless.

In the past I had observed all manner of tropical Csh, colourful coral reefs, and had even explored the rooms of a colossal ship- wreck, the tour guide like an estate agent showing me around, emphasising the potential the place had. Imagine what it would be like if you knocked this wall down? Or if it hadn’t sunk.

Although I knew that was all artiCcial back then, it was this that felt fake. The ocean felt like a neglected aquarium. We would have to descend much further to see anything awe-inspiring. This was just water itself. A blank screen perpetually buffering.

The descent felt like it took almost as long as our journey to reach the coordinates. For we would have to drop to a level that felt unfathomable to me. Technology had improved immeasurably since my diving era, but we still had to be careful about the bends. So amount of innovation could prevent that phenomenon, so we still had to be patient, not be tempted to descend too abruptly.

If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have remained patient. I was panicked. Lomehow being in water that contained nothing felt more dangerous than water that was teeming with aquatic life. It was eerie and unsettling. I had nothing to do but keep checking my oxygen levels, awash with silent disbelief that we’d barely made a dent in our supply. To seek assurance wasn’t necessary though. Lhe knew what she was doing.

“Hook!” We were mic’d up and both stopped to look at each other. zer Cnger drew downward, alerting me to the fact that I should be able to see something.

At Crst, I didn’t. But suddenly it was as if the buffering had ceased and the image had loaded.

“I see it!” I called out, more loudly than I needed to.

Harrison Murphy is a writer from Motherwell, Scotland. 

He specialises in downbeat, and often provocative, speculative fiction with elements of sci-fi and fantasy thrown into the mix. 

The Girl in The Tower – a cli-fi Rapunzel story – is his most recent novel. 

His fourth novel, IV, is an exploration of the afterlife, as well the limited agency we have in affecting this life. 

He also wrote the Chrysalis trilogy, set in a world where we can design our own minds.

IG @harrisonmurph1