Today I would like to welcome you all on the first stop of the They Shoot Corpses, Don’t They? By CS McLean and I would like to share an excerpt from the book, with all of you. Thank you very much to Kelly from Love books Group for the invitation. Please do show some love to all the wonderful book bloggers on this blog tour by following and sharing their work. 🙂
Publisher: Independently published
Release date: 28 04 2018
Price*: Kindle £2.10 (GBP)/ Paperback £5.99 (GBP)
Kindle $2.78 (USD)/ Paperback $10.80 (USD)
Free on Kindle Unlimited!
Pages: ~ 224
You can get this book here:
Description of the book: An original blend of crime fiction and horror – Zombie Noir. Pat O’Hare is the only (living) private detective in Farrelton, a crime-ridden city still recovering from the ravages of an undead uprising. Pat is hired to find the missing granddaughter of a rich industrialist. But, what starts out as simple enough job turns into a fight for survival as he finds himself pulled into a deadly mystery where nobody can be trusted. Helped only by a trigger happy ex-cop and a washed up boxer with a pathological fear of trees, Pat has to use every trick in the book just to stay alive. Caught between corrupt police, gun-wielding hitmen and a ruthless crime lord, Pat soon learns that the zombies are not the most dangerous creatures in town.
I rapped my fist against the door.
‘Yes?’ came a man’s voice. Tentative, nervous.
‘House maintenance. Here about a leak.’
‘I didn’t report any leak,’ the voice said, suspiciously.
‘Not you. It’s the room below. They’ve got water dripping from the ceiling. I need to check the plumbing in your bathroom. I’ll be as quick as possible, sir. I promise I won’t disturb you for long.’
The door opened. I shoved my way inside, kicking the door shut behind me.
The Panoramic Suite was aptly named. A wide pair of glass doors led onto a balcony, giving a birds-eye view over half the city. There was a four-poster bed against one wall with red silk sheets. A plush leather sofa was strategically placed in front of the biggest widescreen television I had ever seen. Underfoot was a shag-pile carpet so thick and lush it felt like I was walking on cotton wool. The whole room stank of money.
Travis Smith wore ripped jeans and a tie-dyed shirt. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and a rabbit’s foot earring swayed from one earlobe. He frowned. ‘You’re not a maintenance man.’
He made a sudden move, going for the door. I grabbed him by the arm, forcing him backwards, and threw him onto the bed. ‘Sit down,’ I said. ‘Now where’s the girl?’
Travis didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The glass doors swung open and Louise Randall walked in off the balcony. ‘Hey, honey, what’s the…’ She stopped when she saw me. ‘Shit.’
She was cute. A sweet blonde girl in shorts and a pink T-shirt, her hair drawn up into a bun. I could see why Travis wanted to run away with her. I bet she’d broken a few hearts in her time.
‘Listen,’ she said, her eyes wide with fear, ‘You don’t need to do this. I’ve got money. Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it. Treble it. Just for you to leave us alone.’ She bit her lower lip, then said, ‘Please.’
I replied, ‘Your grandfather sent me. Wants me to bring you home.’
‘Granddaddy?’ The change was instantaneous, as if the fear had been sucked out of her. A wide smile shone from her face. ‘You mean it?’
‘Yes. Richard Randall, he hired me to find you.’
‘Oh, thank God.’ She skipped over and sat down on the bed next to Travis. They hugged each other, laughing. Then they kissed, long and passionate. It was as if I wasn’t there.
I them gave a moment, but it became embarrassing so I interrupted them with a cough, then I asked, ‘So, who did you think sent me?’
They never got to answer because, next moment, the door exploded.
About the author: Stuart McLean (aka CS McLean) is a writer currently living in St Albans. He studied Chemistry at the University of Hertfordshire – although, this was back in the days when the Premiership was still called Division One and Hatfield was still a Polytechnic. He was shortlisted for the first Margery Allingham short story competition, and was twice shortlisted for the Bloody Scotland short story competition.
Stuart was a finalist in the 2016 Bloody Scotland Pitch Perfect competition, in which he pitched his brand of zombie noir to a largely bewildered group of panellists. He was also chosen as one of the 2018 Bloody Scotland Crime in the Spotlight authors, a platform to highlight new and emerging crime writers.
When not writing, Stuart likes to play various musical instruments, all very badly; guitar, ukulele, trumpet and harmonica. But, not at the same time.
*-the price was taken from Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com on the current date. The price might change at the time of your purchase. The links used in this post for book purchases are affiliates.