BAD TO THE BONE

The long-awaited conclusion to the Barclay & MacDonald trilogy

I hear a siren. I look in the rear-view mirror and there’s a flashing blue light racing down the street. I floor the pedals, playing them like a drummer on speed, racing through the gears before executing a brutal handbrake turn and taking us on the sharpest of lefts and into the thundering traffic of a dual carriageway. Nought to sixty in fractions of a second.

I’m panting rather than breathing, all animal, wild, unstoppable. I’m in my element. I jump a set of red lights and miss a dog walker by inches.

I haven’t got time to blink. I grip the wheel so tightly it might well snap under the pressure. In and out of the lanes I thread the Sierra. It’s the most exciting car I’ve ever driven. Left. Right. Left. It’s me and the car, as one, in perfect harmony. I snap a wing mirror off a driving instructor’s creeping Micra. That’s a lesson someone will never forget. Bloody learners.

I check my mirror. The blue light’s gone. Can’t hear no siren either. I slow down and work my way into the slow lane. At the first opportunity I take a left, then park up outside a school.

I drop my head, panting, small rapid breaths keeping time with my heart.

‘Wow,’ he says. ‘That was something.’

Without looking in his direction I take my hands off the wheel, grasp the gun in my left hand and smash him in the face with its butt. Something cracks. My fingers throb from the impact. His nose is streaming blood.

‘Bitch!’ he cries, trying to cover his face with his hands to stem the flow.

That nose looks broken to me. Good. It’s about time something went right for me today. I smile and cherish the moment.

Available as paperback and on Kindle

'The Woman At Twenty-six' is out now!

'It was as if whoever or whatever was in there knew I had arrived and at last had what they wanted. Something was waiting for me and I shuddered and felt a cold trickle of sweat run down my spine.'

It had all started so perfectly, but life never turns out quite as you planned. ‘Our new home,’ Beth had whispered. ‘Our dream house. New beginnings.’ But she couldn’t have been more wrong…

From the author of the Write Here, Right Now 2018 Prize shortlisted When She Was Bad and the acclaimed Bad For Good, a new novel that will chill you to the core

Out now on Amazon.

Coming in 2018

A quick update on how my books are selling and what I’m planning next.
The amazing news is that the downloads and paperback sales for the Barclay & MacDonald books When She Was Bad and Bad For Good have now topped 1,500 copies. Incredible. Thank you so much.
What is more, the number of Kindle downloads for both books soared through the summer which is great news, and paperback sales were strong, too. New reviews have been positive but I can never have too many – please review my books on Amazon and Good Reads if you have a moment as it’s the best way to get new readers.
Over the summer I’ve started writing the first draft of my next novel, The Ghost’s Story. It’s a standalone thriller (no Barclay or MacDonald this time) and I plan to publish it next year. Here’s the briefest of outlines to whet your appetite:

‘The Ghost’s Story chronicles the death and life of journalist Adam Graves. It begins with his murder in a brutal hit-and-run incident that leaves the police baffled, but although Adam may be dead, his spirit finds that it cannot rest in peace until it solves the mystery of who killed him and why. As his body is laid to rest, Adam’s bewildered ghost travels through his past, revisiting the dramatic events that ultimately led to his untimely death.’

As you can see, it’s quite different from what I’ve written before.
I wrote a possible opening for book three over the summer and (this is exciting!) it will be appearing in a Penguin anthology shortly. I’ve uploaded these first pages as a PDF, so click here if you want to see how the earliest draft began. I’ve already rewritten these chapters which means this ready-for-Kindle download is an exclusive - most of it won’t be in the published book.
Let me know what you think.
Neil

New Barclay & MacDonald paperback

I’m being asked by readers when they can expect the next Barclay & MacDonald book. The good news (although it's a bit of a cheat) is that there’s a paperback collection of the first two novels out now, which has both books in full plus a couple of exclusives: an interview with me about writing Bad For Good and the prologue for Bad Timing, which is the working title for the third book in the series. It is available to buy from Amazon and some of the finest bookshops.

The main reason for the collection is to make the print version more affordable - the cost of the paperbacks is as low as Amazon permit but combining the two in a single volume and slightly reducing the type size means the paperback is shipping for just £10.99 (buying the two paperbacks separately costs £15.98). (I won’t be publishing the omnibus collection as a Kindle eBook as Amazon are selling both eBooks for £3.89 at the moment, which makes adding another edition a little pointless.) 

Jen’s done great covers on all the books but I think this one is the best yet. Tina Pugh took a fab moody photo of the Greenwich foot tunnel for us and it adds a really atmospheric look to the book.

As to the publication of the next in the series I don’t have any firm dates yet as I’m still at the ideas stage. I start a new course with Random House this week which I’m using to pull together ideas I have for a non-Barclay novel,  provisionally called The Ghost’s Story, which I may write before Claire’s tale continues. That’s my plan anyway.

Thanks for your support and please keep the Amazon reviews of Bad For Good coming.

Stay Bad…

Neil

Bad For Good out now on Kindle and in paperback

Available on Kindle and as a paperback around the world - the second Barclay & MacDonald novel, BAD FOR GOOD. Enjoy!

You can buy and download the eBook here: http://amzn.eu/3jpBG1j or the paperback here: http://amzn.eu/g9jh8pJ

'When She Was Bad' Prologue

I had aimed at his shoulder but it was the side of his head that exploded. So much for shooting to wound rather than kill. Shit. Barclay would be furious.

So I ran. Ran like I’d never run before in my life. Drop the gun? Keep the gun? My fingers felt welded to its grip. I couldn’t let go, the warmth of the metal strangely seductive.

Run.

Was she chasing me or seeing to what was left of her fallen lover? I wasn’t waiting to find out, didn’t even turn to see. I just ran. Arms pumping, cheeks puffing, breath already shortening. Run, girl, run.

I turned left, down the dark alleyway that led round the side of the abandoned warehouse. There were no lights, no paving and I stumbled on the uneven surface but I couldn’t stop, I ran as fast as I could, my legs, sides, lungs all protesting at this sudden call to action.

There was wire fencing a few yards ahead. Could I take it in my stride like in the movies? From behind I could hear a shout for me to stop. At least she’d stopped screaming. I slipped the gun into my coat pocket and jumped at the fencing, surprising myself by getting a firm grip with both hands and hauling myself up like I was on an assault course.

‘Stop, bitch!’

Well that’s nice, I thought as I dropped over the other side, my ankle turning slightly on landing but just a tweak. I could understand she was upset, but there was no need to make it personal. I brushed myself down then started to run again, though every muscle was howling for me to slow down. Just too out of condition for this running lark. If it hadn’t been for the adrenaline rush I’d have been finished already.

I could hear the blood hammering in my ears, felt my lungs close to bursting. Any further and I was sure I would collapse. I turned left around another building and then suddenly there was a pool of light ahead, a single streetlamp picking out the familiar Fiat parked at the roadside.

Had he heard the gun shot? Or was Barclay oblivious to the drama I’d suddenly ignited?

‘Barclay!’ I attempted to shout as I neared the car, so short of breath I thought I would die.

He saw me and wound the window down.

‘All go to plan?’ he asked.

‘No it…no it fucking didn’t.’ I fell against the passenger side and wrenched the door open, clambering in.

‘Where’s the money?’

‘What?’ Barely able to speak.

‘The money. Where’s the money?’

‘He’s dead. I shot him. He’s dead. Drive!’

‘Fuck.’

He turned the key and the engine coughed into life. Slamming it into first and flooring the accelerator, we shot off, as fast as the little rust trap could manage.