Posted in Blog Tour

When A Killer Strikes by R.C. Bridgestock #blogtour #AuthorPost

I was thrilled to be asked to be part of the blog tour to celebrate the publication of the eighth in the DI Dylan series: When A Killer Strikes by R.C. Bridgestock which was published on 19 October 2017.

One half of RC Bridgestock, Carol agreed to share with me the important books that shaped her childhood and I hope you’ll agree it’s a fascinating, and for me, full of familiar and much-loved books.

One of my earliest memories is sitting on the woollen carpet, in the Children’s Corner at King Cross Library. It was to the right, inside the door but was cut off from the rest of the library by open book shelves that even I could see over for that reassuring smile from my mum choosing her own library books. I remember feeling safe and warm, those big cast iron radiators the colour of the mahogany woodwork didn’t half blast out some heat! Many-a-time, after a long day at school and the walk from school I recall laying on my tummy on the floor, the smell of old books that I’d pulled from the shelves to surround me and the quietness, the solitude would nearly lull me to sleep. The little solid, wooden chairs that slid underneath a child sized dark wooden table were always shiny and clean. I hung onto my library cards, with pride. The librarian had put my name on them, they belonged to me. I think I loved the books from the library more than I loved the books my mum and dad bought for me. Library time, was my time and space to explore and dream, sitting on that old, worn carpet… I loved the fact that the corners of the books pages were worn and thin from being thumbed so much. The books were alive to me, and the proof was the marks left on them by those who had read the books before me. I could feel in them the time that had passed since they’d read them. And now it was my turn.

             King Cross Library – Source Calderdale Libraries

 

My mother loved reading, still does, although her eyes are failing – thank goodness for technology, her iPad her best friend. It was on her knee that I recall being read the Five Little Kittens. I loved that book. I don’t forget the books I read when I was a child. They are burned in my brain, and each has its own scent, its rhythm and beat, which has stayed with me all that time. I remember where and when I read them, their shape, their thickness of the paper, the picture on the cover, if there was one. I even remember if the pages had come loose, or had been torn out and mended by the concerned, diligent librarian, the healer and surgeon of tattered books, it told me it was a much loved story book and one I knew I wanted to read. I even loved the yellowing pages and the stains, but most of all, I loved the notes written in the margins in many strange and different hands, and the drawings, and pictures – they made me smile. I could well imagine a few cross words from mum if I’d have done that. Last year I purchased an original copy of Five Little Kittens, which is in our bookcase and I now read it to our grandchildren.

 

It’s a simple storyline, mother cat goes to town to do some shopping whilst the kittens try to help clear up at home. It all goes terribly wrong but everything works out fine in the end. It’s beautifully illustrated and the pictures alone tell the story for me without the need for words, although it does have them.

Yes, I had a copy of this book with the self-same cover.

I learnt to read with the help of the Janet and John books, at Warley Road Infant School. Our teacher was a little old lady, who tied her grey hair up in a bun that sat in the nape of her neck. I can’t recall her name but what I do remember was that she was as round as she was tall. If we did well at reading she would let us choose a treat from her rusty old tin, that she kept in the right hand drawer of her desk. A sugar coated pineapple cube, a pear drop, a mint, or a thrupenny bit… What fun!

Your teacher sounds wonderful Carol my learn-to-read gurus were Peter and Jane.

Famous ‘Five On Treasure Island’: This was the book that lured me hook, line and sinker into the reading world. I still remember it like yesterday; my mum, dad, brother and I had just moved south. Away from my all friends, and my grandparents… I was eight, I was lonely. We lived near the sea, a harbour and I could see the Isle of Wight across The Solent. Little did I know that nearly forty years later the Island that I had called my ‘Treasure Island’ would become our home. Ah, the mysterious world of Julian, Anne, Dick and my favourite George made me forget my loneliness, and soon I made new friends and we had our own little adventures. Thank you Enid Blyton for bringing me to a world of limitless imagination.

Yes, another snap I credit the entire Famous Five series for my enduring love of crime fiction which may well be why I’m currently reading When A Killer Strikes.

The book from childhood that had the greatest impact on my life was The Diary of Anne Frank. This diary of a truly courageous young woman. Born June 12, 1929, was a German-Jewish teenager who was forced to go into hiding during the Holocaust. She and her family, along with four others, spent 25 months during World War II in an annex of rooms above her father’s office in Amsterdam. After being betrayed to the Nazis, Anne, her family, and the others living were arrested and deported to Nazi concentration camps. In March of 1945, nine months after she was arrested, Anne Frank died of typhus at Bergen-Belsen. She was fifteen years old – the same age as me. Her diary was saved by one of the people who helped the family. It made me feel very lucky, and grateful for all I had, and thankful that I was living in the now, not then.

And another yes! When I read this book I was aware of my Jewish ancestors, my immediate family having moved to the East End of London from Amsterdam. Much later I visited the Anne Frank Museum and found many of the family names in their book of those who were sent to concentration camps from the city.

The book I love reading to my grandchildren is, ‘Guess How Much I Love You?’ (Little Nutbrown Hare)

I think that this is one of the greatest books ever written. If it were required reading for all, the world would be a much better place!

I don’t have any grandchildren yet but when I do this book will also go on my bookshelf.

When A Killer Strikes by R.C. Bridgestock 

Blurb

“Boss, we’ve got a body”.
Detective Sergeant Vicky Hardacre, greets him at the scene, but what awaits them behind the blood red door of Colonial House is undoubtedly a murder. The approach identifies several prime suspects. But who is telling the truth; and who is lying?
Before the killer can be caught, another body is discovered, this time in a putrefying mixture of mud and slime, lain among the remnants of decaying food within a waste-bin shelter. Now it’s the task of the man in charge to make the call.
Are the two murders connected?
There’s only one way to find out, and that’s by working long hours, within strict budgets, and the usual pressure from above to obtain quick results.
However, Dylan is distracted by personal matters, with Jen being keen to seal the deal on a renovation project. He suggests they delay finalising the purchase; until he discovers the significance of the house, and that it’s about to be demolished.
In his absence, Jen’s pleas for help from his estranged siblings are answered, resulting in hidden secrets coming to light, as Dylan continues, through a twisting and turning plot, to ensure justice is done in respect of the murder victims, whose bright hopes for the future were cruelly snatched away. Amazon

Sounds good doesn’t it? My review will be up shortly but you can buy your own copy from:

Amazon UK
Amazon US

Posted in Blog Tour

Thriller writing – why Isolation is essential by Sophie Jonas-Hill Nemesister #Blogtour

 

 

I’m delighted to be on the blog tour for Nemesister and especially thrilled that Sophie agreed to write a piece especially for my blog, one that I hope you find as fascinating as I have. So without further ado, I’ll hand over to Sophie.

Thriller writing – why Isolation is essential  

At some point, every thriller writer will need to isolate their protagonist. The reasons for this are two fold – an isolated person has no one to ask for help and so has to fall back on their own devices and b) otherwise the book will probably end too quickly. As social animals, one of this things we fear most of is being alone, especially when we’re in trouble. For most of us being alone is unsettling at best, terrifying at worst, and people who crave isolation and separation are viewed with a mix of awe and distrust. As a writer, you have to think where your character might have to go to end up alone, and how sensibly they’re able to get there without it looking like a massively clumsy plot-device.

“Why goodness me,’ said John, ‘I never thought I’d actually win the all expenses paid solo trip to the Canadian Rockies, without an escort or working phone, but now I have I can’t wait to get there, even though my psychotic ex-girlfriend and ace mountaineer is still stalking me – ‘ yeah, you have to be a bit more subtle than that!

Mobile phones might be seen as a curse when trying to isolate your protagonist, but they’re actually a blessing – we’re so used to them, that when they don’t work we’re all the more vulnerable simple because we don’t make other provisions and so panic. In the old day of Nokia, they would last for days without a re-charge, which meant looking at more permanent ways to disable them – ‘Oh no,’ said John, ‘That elephant has just sat on my Nokia, I should never have left it there!’ but now, thanks to the myriad of functions on a smart phone, they only have to be a few hours from a charger and a few miles from a phone mast, and they’ve cut you off as completely as a blizzard in the olden days. I have a part in a current work in progress, where my main character finds her phone has died and, like so many of us, as she’s never bothered with a landline, as who uses them these days? – she’s suddenly as alone in a London flat over a desolate garage as she might be in a distant forest.

Once your main character is alone, they become dependant on your their own resources, which gives the reader a chance to see what they’re really made of. It’s then that you really need to know your characters, better than they know each other, so that the surprises they pull ring true. This joke encapsulates it perfectly – two friends meet a bear in the woods; one stands still in shock, the other begins to frantically change into his running shoes.

‘You can’t out run a bear!’ the first friend says desperately.
‘I know, but I can out run you,’ says the second

This is very much encapsulates the point – you might find that although your main character sounds vulnerable on paper, when it comes to it they may well be as ruthless as any criminal, and as a writer, you need to know why and what that means. Some of the best thriller writing is when the hunted becomes the hunter.

Isolation doesn’t have to be geographical; often psychological isolation is the most powerful, and the sort we fear the most as it can happen in our own heads without needing an exotic location or plot devices. You can be isolated in a crowd, if the crowd is against you – think of ‘Invasion of the body snatchers’ where the ‘free’ humans have to walk through a crowd of possessed ones and not give themselves away, knowing a single slip up and everyone will turn against them. If your character is being framed for a crime they didn’t commit, they cannot risk calling the police, or if they’ve been mis-treated by them in the past they may simply not trust them. In so many thrillers, the plot would fall apart in an heartbeat if the main character dialled 999, so you have to have a rock solid reason for them not to do so – which again comes right back to who they are, or character. Most regular people if approached by an enemy, or chased by gangsters, would go for help from those around them, so you need to know why your character will not or cannot do that. I am often to be found shouting at psychological thrillers ‘ring the police – ring the police!’ because the author hasn’t convinced me that this isn’t a sensible option, even if it might have more consequences than just a lengthy explanation, and yet it can be such a simple thing to get right. If you know your character, if you really understand them, you should know why they can’t ring the police, and that should inform everything they do.

So when it comes down to it, like with all good writing, the best kind of Thrillers thrive on the same thing as any writing – know your characters. From character comes plot, from plot comes the novel, and it’s the flaws, weaknesses and fears of your characters which will make the novel memorable.
And lets hope smart phone batteries don’t get better!

Thank you so much Sophie for visiting Cleopatra Loves Books and thank you all for reading, don’t forget to check out the other stops on the Nemesister Blog Tour

 

Blurb

An American Gothic thriller of deception and obsession, slicked in sweat and set in the swamps of Louisiana.

It’s a psychological mystery where the female protagonist stumbles into a deserted shack with no memory but a gun in her hand. There she meets an apparent stranger, Red, and the two find themselves isolated and under attack from unseen assailants.

Barricaded inside for a sweltering night, cabin fever sets in and brings her flashes of insight which might be memory or vision as the swamp sighs and moans around her.

Exploring in the dark she finds hidden keys that seem to reveal her identity and that of her mysterious host, but which are the more dangerous – the lies he’s told her, or the ones she’s told herself? Amazon

 

Posted in Blog Tour

The Day That Never Comes – Author Post – Caimh McDonnell

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I’m delighted to welcome Caimh McDonnell back to my blog to celebrate the publication of his second book in the Dublin Trilogy; The Day That Never Comes which was published on 23 January 2017.

For those of you who haven’t yet read the first, A Man With One of Those Faces, it is currently on offer on Amazon for just 99p or 99c, an absolute bargain for this very funny crime novel!

Without further ado I will hand over to Caimh and his author post.

 

Life Imitating Art

 

In the middle of December I went home to Dublin for a ‘working holiday’ when something very peculiar happened. It was a ‘working holiday’ because I was going over the final, final, final proofs of my latest book The Day That Never Comes that my editor had sent over. This meant sitting in my mother’s backroom while she nipped in every fifteen or so minutes to make sure I wasn’t being disturbed. She’d occasionally mix this with standing outside the door loudly telling my dad to eat his toast more quietly.

 

To give you some background, my book is a crime thriller set in Dublin. One of the things that happens in it is that a group of homeless people take over an office building in central Dublin that the Irish government have left unoccupied. I awoke one morning to an excited email from my friend Brendan in Ghana, who was one of the few people bar my editor who had read the book up until this point. The reason for his excitement was he had been reading the Irish Times online and a group of homeless people had just taken over an office building in central Dublin that the Irish government had left unoccupied.

 

The name of the real building in question is Apollo House and it has been big news in Ireland and has even gained some coverage internationally. Of all the many, many coincidences between Apollo House and the Ark, the real building stands about a four-minute walk across the River Liffey from where I imagined the fake one would be.

 

I currently live in Manchester, which is actually a lot alike Dublin in many ways; sadly one of those is that in the last decade there has been a shocking explosion in homelessness in both cities. It is normally hard in hindsight to recall exactly what inspired the ideas that end up in your book, but I’d be pretty certain that the shanty town that existed on Oxford Road in Manchester that I walked by most days, at least until the authorities ripped it down, was a large part of the inspiration for the fictional ‘Ark’ building that appears in my book.

 

Now, I should point out, the Ark is merely a small part of my novel and it is not a book about homelessness. Really, where its core inspiration comes from is the anger I think most people feel, in Ireland and elsewhere, where they suffered and continue to suffer the effects of an economic collapse that was caused by the reckless actions of a few people. Certainly in Ireland, with the enormous bank bailout that occurred, it feels like there is a well of anger that has never really been dealt with. The driving engine behind my novel is the idea of what would happen if someone decided to extract their revenge by killing the people they hold responsible for the collapse.

 

Still though, the similarities between my fictional Ark and the real Apollo House are frankly a bit freaky. It is very odd as an author to see something you had hypothesized played out in reality. I think I got both the Irish public’s reaction (almost total support) and the Irish government’s response (almost total embarrassment) pretty much bang on. The thing which most caught me by surprise was that I never in a million years thought someone in authority would make the case that these poor people should be evicted from the building and put back on the freezing mid-winter streets ‘for their own safety’. Even in fiction, that seemed like to bizarre and cruel an argument.

 

In reality, the occupants of Apollo House have now been evicted by order of the High Court, once temporary accommodation had been found for them elsewhere.  Their actions have also done an awful lot to raise awareness of an issue that for too long went ignored.

 

Let’s just say, in the fictional version of events in my book, things don’t end quite so peacefully. The Irish government should take note!

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The Day That Never Comes

 

the-day-that-never-came

Caimh McDonnell
Published 23 January 2017
McFori Ink
340 pages
ISBN: 978-0-9955075-2-4 Paperback
978-0-9955075-3-1 eBook (Kindle)

#DayNeverComes

 

Blurb

Remember those people that destroyed the economy and then cruised off on their yachts? Well guess what – someone is killing them.

Dublin is in the middle of a heat wave and tempers are running high. The Celtic Tiger is well and truly dead, activists have taken over the headquarters of a failed bank, the trial of three unscrupulous property developers teeters on the brink of collapse, and in the midst of all this, along comes a mysterious organisation hell-bent on exacting bloody vengeance in the name of the little guy.

Paul Mulchrone doesn’t care about any of this; he has problems of his own. His newly established detective agency is about to be DOA. One of his partners won’t talk to him for very good reasons and the other has seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth for no reason at all. Can he hold it together long enough to figure out what Bunny McGarry’s colourful past has to do with his present absence?

When the law and justice no longer mean the same thing, on which side will you stand?

The Day That Never Comes is the second book in Caimh McDonnell’s Dublin trilogy, which melds fast-paced action with a distinctly Irish acerbic wit.

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If you haven’t read the A Man with One of Those Faces what are you waiting for? Don’t hang about, it is very funny and currently available for 99p/99c from 23 – 30 January 2017!

If you should need any persuasion to click the buy button, you can read my review here

Amazon UK
Amazon US

 

I will be reviewing The Day That Never Comes very soon, but if you can skip that and buy the book now, here are the links

Amazon UK
Amazon US

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Posted in Author Interview

Being Very Brave – Author Post by Caimh McDonnell

A Man With One of those Faces

‘You must be very brave.’

I’ve been a stand-up comedian now for about 15 years and I’ve long since lost track of how many times somebody has said that to me. It’s one of the four responses that comics get when people find out what you do for a living. It’s by no means the worst; for example, my heart sinks when a sentence starts with ‘I’ve got one for ye…’ – not least because invariably what follows is tremendously offensive to someone’s race/gender/disability/sexuality or occasionally, all of the above. You’re more often than not left with the choice of fake laughing along and dying a little inside or sticking to your morals and risking a slap in the chops.

That risk aside, there really isn’t much bravery involved. It’s just talking nonsense to people and, with the noticeably exception of one gig I did in the Philippines, those people aren’t armed.

Doctors, nurses, soldiers, firepersons, police – basically anyone who has a job whose uniform can also be used by a stripper, they all have to be considerably more brave than we do on a daily basis. So do strippers come to that. (side-note: I once did a gig in which there were male strippers in the dressing room beside ours, those poor boys had the soul-crushed thousand-yard-stares of Vietnam vets. Forget Magic Mike, the reality is a lot more Tragic Terry.)

Another one on that list is ‘have you been on TV?’ People then do this face when you explain that you haven’t been. I then have to explain to that face my other job. You see ‘I’ haven’t been on TV but I’ve got rounds of applause on Have I Got News For You and Mock The Week. As well as being a stand-up, I’m one of those even rarer beasts; a TV comedy writer. Odder still – I’ve also written a whole load of kid’s television. If you look closely, you’ll notice my name on about an hour of CBBC output most days. I get a kick out of all writing, whether it’s sweating over a one-line zinger that sums up Brexit or figuring out how a tiny blue bear with a limited vocab can cope with an apartment flooding with custard.

The only downside of TV writing is that you’re never in control of it. Even when I’ve worked on sitcoms, producers, broadcasters, and once – and I wish I was making this up – the guy who answers the phones, they all get to have a say. In hindsight, maybe this was what pushed me to write a novel. Who doesn’t like the idea of having total control? Even the phone-answering guy likes that and he didn’t like much.

So I wrote a novel. Actually what I did was I wrote lots of short stories as logically, I figured that’d be a sensible place to start. Rome wasn’t built in a day and presumably the novel of the same name wasn’t either. One of those short stories was about a guy who visited elderly residents in hospital and just played along with whoever they thought he was in an effort to keep the patient happy. It was a nice idea that lacked an inciting incident. I was about to give it up when a thought struck me – what if one of the patients attempted to kill whoever they thought that fella was? This sparked a whole load of questions and in an effort to answer them, A Man with One of Those Faces was born. I’m proud of it. In fact, I’m more proud of it than anything I’ve ever done.

I didn’t know it at the time but I’d made a terrible mistake. I’d written a crime thriller set in my hometown of Dublin that, seeing as it was written by me, has a fair bit of comedy in it. Comedy and crime do not go together. Never, ever. No way, no how. Upon reading that blanket statement, names like Christopher Brookmyre, Carl Hiassen and Colin Bateman might pop into your head to refute it – well shush, you’re wrong. How I know this is, I did what I was supposed to, and wrote letters to every literary agency in Britain, which is where I live. Most of them came back with a hard and fast no as soon as they’d spied the words crime and comedy appearing within three paragraphs of each other. I even tried taking the word comedy out of everything but they could clearly smell it off me. As far as I could tell, none of these agents had actually read any of the novel. They were that certain. A couple of agents had it recommended to them by a well-respected author and they read it. The first agent absolutely loved the sample. I mean so much so that when he had to pass on it because it contained comedy and crime, he did it with as much discomfort as if he’d been passing a kidney stone. Honestly, I felt sorry for the poor fella by the end.

The other agent rejected it with more ease. This time, because it was “too funny and too Irish”. Now that was a new twist. I knew people hated comedy with a passion but the Irish now too? Surely not everyone in those big parades they hold all around the world in March is doing it ironically?

It was at this point, I was getting disheartened and my English wife was getting really annoyed. Refreshingly, it wasn’t me she was annoyed at.
‘Right, what was it exactly that guy said again?’
‘Too funny and too Irish.’
‘Brilliant. We’re going to take that sentence, replace the word “too” with the word “very” and we’ve got our sales pitch. We’re publishing this book ourselves.’
‘Ah hon, I don’t want to self-publish.’
‘We’re not self-publishing, for a start – there’s two of us.’
And she was right. Publishing is just one of the many activities I’ve discovered are much more fun to do with the wife than on my own. Don’t get me wrong, people still do the face. The ‘you’re self-publishing?’ face is the exact same as the ‘you’ve not been on TV face’.

Here’s a couple of facts. My book has been edited by one of the best editors in British publishing, a gent called Scott Pack. He’s a lovely man who has also started cheerleading for the book in a manner I’m pretty sure isn’t in the job description. An award-winning designer has done the book’s cover; I know that as the award was won for our book’s cover. If I come across as a tad defensive pointing this stuff out, it is because I am. Being written off from the get-go does kind of get your back up. Remember that whole pride thing? I did warn you.

So, to bring you back to where all this started, being ‘very brave’. On August 30th, I turned 41, which isn’t relevant, and I did a stand-up gig in Birmingham’s Symphony Hall, which is. You might well wonder how I could fill that room. The answer is I didn’t, Sarah Millican did. I was lucky enough to be supporting her. That’s the final response you get from people when they find out you’re a stand-up ‘do you know…’ In answer to that – yeah, most professional comics know most other professional comics, at least to say hello to. I’m lucky enough to be one of the people who gets the joy of supporting Sarah on tour. She likes the company; she certainly doesn’t need the help. She is the most hard-working and supportive person I’ve ever met. So much so, she insisted that I bring along a box of my soon-to-be-published books to sell in the show’s interval. It’d seemed like a good idea right upon until the day of the gig. On the day itself I think we all got a bit nervous. I felt like a plank carrying my box of 22 books in from the car. Sarah gave an encouraging “I’m sure people will buy a couple” speech in the dressing room. Barry the lovely tour manager reckoned it’d go brilliantly. That’s tour managers for you, 90% of the job is being able to say everything is fine in a convincing manner when it quite clearly isn’t.

I did my set, which went OK, then I gave my fairly garbled sales-pitch about how I’d written a novel and I’d be standing outside in the interval if anybody wanted to buy one. I then brought on Sarah who proceeded to rock the house as only she can. I know that because ten minutes before the interval, I was standing outside in the lobby, with my pile of books and my sharpie clutched in my sweaty hand, listening to the steady stream of roars of laughter and rounds of applause. I was also considerably more terrified that I’d ever been on stage. These people had seen me do comedy and I’d told them the book was crime, they were going to put two and two together. Everybody hates that combination. I had the letters from agents to prove it.

I bloody love this book and I wasn’t going to be able to look at it, as people streamed by with awkward nods and fleeting eye contact. I started to feel like I’d somehow let the book down. It’d be like the awkward morning after a one-night stand. The audience and I had enjoyed that 15 minutes of verbal rumpy-pumpy but nobody was ready for the long-term commitment of a book.

I was stood beside the merchandise stand, which was being manned by the lovely Sean. Right then I hated him with a passion. There he was with his entirely relaxed demeanour, his tour programmes and his selection of humorous tea towels. Of course he looked relaxed, the only problem the stand has had on the 200 dates of the tour is managing the queues. People love tea towels, why hadn’t I thought of that? I’d brought a work of comedic crime fiction to a tea towel fight.

As the doors opened I was all set to bolt when Sean pipped up, “Merchandise over here or buy a signed copy of Caimh’s book over there.” What a prick! I stood there with a rigamortis smile on my face and a pair of nervous underpants that must’ve been fearing the worst.

Then something unexpected happened. A woman came up and bought a book. She asked me to sign it and I nervously did so while answering her questions. She first asked was it funny? I begrudgingly said yes. I’d already started the inscription. I should’ve asked for the money up-front. Rookie mistake. She then told me how delighted she was as she loved crime fiction but it was always so serious. How come there weren’t any funny ones? I then gave her some excited recommendations from the Chris Brookmyre back catalogue and she took a picture of the three of us, me, her and the book. Pic finished, I put the book back on the pile and she reminded me she had paid for it and it was hers now. Embarrassed, I gave it to her and sent it off out into the world. Only then, did I notice the queue. I double-checked to make sure I wasn’t mistakenly blocking the toilet or standing beside a pile of tea towels.

I turned up in the dressing room ten minutes later. Sarah and Barry looked worried, I’d not even made it all the way through the interval.

Sold out! Every copy. I even took back and sold the book I’d given to Sean. I could’ve sold a load more too. People were genuinely annoyed that they couldn’t get one. The wife would be livid when she heard that.

Still though, inexplicably people had bought the book. They’d known that I’d combined crime with judiciously applied comedy and they were fine with it. Clearly, none of these people would ever make it as literary agents.
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When I first asked for a guest post from Caimh McDonnell, I hadn’t read the book and to be honest, wasn’t quite sure what to expect. When this brilliant post arrived I was over 80% through the book and well past the ‘Does comedy and crime go together question’ and concluded that this excellent piece should be read before I post my review, which will be coming very soon!

In the meantime if you want to know more visit Caimh’s blog here

 

Thank you Caimh for an entertaining post and I wish you continued success with a book which will show all those literary agents that they are not always right!

About the Author

Caimh McDonnell is an award-winning stand-up comedian, author and writer of televisual treats.

His writing credits include The Sarah Millican Television Programme, A League of Their Own, Mock the Week and Have I Got News for You. He also works as a children’s TV writer and was BAFTA nominated for the animated series Pet Squad which he created. He was also a winner in the BBC’s Northern Laffs sitcom writing competition.

During his time on the British stand-up circuit, Caimh has firmly established himself as the white-haired Irishman whose name nobody can pronounce. He has brought the funny worldwide, doing stand-up tours of the Far East, the Middle East and Near East (Norwich).

His debut novel, A Man with One of Those Faces, is out now.

Amazon UK
Amazon US