Detective Hanlon is addicted to violence. She likes the rush, the danger, the losing control…

When Hanlon is suspended from the force for assaulting a suspect, she escapes to the remote Scottish island of Jura, home to the mysterious Corryvreckan whirlpool.

But wherever Hanlon goes, violence is sure to follow.

As soon as she checks into The Mackinnon Arms, Hanlon senses something isn’t quite right about the staff at her home for the week.

Sure enough, within days of arriving, the body of a member of staff is found floating in the sea. While police believe she was claimed by the local whirlpool, Hanlon isn’t so sure.

As she pieces together the evidence, dark secrets begin to unravel. Can Hanlon work out what is going on before another floating body is found…?

The start of a gripping new crime series, perfect for fans of Angela Marsons, Robert Bryndza, and Lisa Regan.

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

She wasn’t exactly friendless in the Metropolitan Police, but it surely felt that way. She was like a wounded lioness in a pack; the others had smelled her weakness and were moving away from her. Hyenas were circling in the distance.

 

About twenty or so people were sitting, in various stages of undress, watching a widescreen TV with rapt attention. There was a lot of wrinkled flesh on offer. The baby boomers were not going gentle into that good night. She stared at what was going on in horrified disgust… The Mackinnon Arms hotel was obviously the centre for some sort of ageing island swingers group.

 

It stood on a street corner as a tired old prostitute might, soliciting trade, and not doing very well. Its sign was peeling; a chalkboard advertised ‘Exotic Dancers’ on Saturday afternoons. A poster said, ‘Food available’. In the Rob Roy that sounded more like a warning than a promise.

 

She watched his face redden; it happened from the base of his neck upwards like mercury rising in a thermometer. His normally pale face was flushed and she didn’t think it was from exertion.

 

The flat was sparsely furnished with cheap furniture. As well as the smell of the cannabis, there was a strong smell of poverty. The carpet was threadbare, the sofa had been fixed with duct tape. The armchairs were of the sort that old people were sometimes discovered dead in.

My Review:

 

This crafty wordsmith is flawless. I am totally enamored with and ensnared by his impressive word voodoo. The man has mad skills! His use of metaphors and descriptions was cleverly creative, vivid, and easily pulled keen visuals to mind. Plus, I cannot get enough of his complex and enigmatic kickass chick character of DCI Hanlon. I know it was mentioned in an earlier book but I honestly don’t recall her first name, everyone just calls her Hanlon, as does she when she introduces herself. She is deeply flawed and tough as steel-toed boots, yet still human and able to feel the occasional prickles of unease at how others relish her misfortunes and are enjoying her downfall, although she is surprisingly comfortable in her own skin. I will most likely always be striving for her level of self-acceptance. I adore her but wouldn’t want to have her laser focus honing in on me.