Despite taking far too low a place on my priorities scale, you’ll be pleased to know that I haven’t simply forgotten to publish BLOOD IS HEAVIER in paperback. It will arrive very, very soon.
Of course, you know I’m writing the second book in the Hunter Series, and I hope to have this ready for release in December. Until then I will keep Blood Is Heavier free to download from Smashwords. Now’s the time to get it, if you’re interested. I won’t bother giving you the Amazon link, since they won’t price-match any time soon, in my experience.
Here’s a sample from the sequel, Blood is Power, to whet your appetite:
A negative pall of dark magic and obscure mystery hung over Hyde Park, nicely complementing the moonless night to create a picture quite befitting to stalking an unknown number of – as yet – unidentified villains. Just by the Serpentine’s elbow, Nick reached a hand to the underneath of one of the bins, then jerked the small package free of its bindings and slid it under his coat. Just like the old times, he mumbled to himself, satisfied.
Nick’s walk was brisk and efficient; he looked like a man with a purpose, and he felt it, too. His plan was simple. He was going to find Alastair Lloyd Campbell and he was going to get as much information out of him as possible. Then he was going to hunt down Dollar De la Rue, starting with the one pub owner who was bound to remember him; you don’t lose all the fingers on one of your hands, without anaesthetic, and forget it in a hurry. After he’d dealt with Dollar, he was going to track down Jesse Bent to whichever rock he’d hidden under, and then follow Mortimer Hughes to Cyprus and make him pay for his part in this. If any more links popped out of the woodwork in the meantime, he would follow them one by one, to the end of each trail.
There was no bitterness in him, no rage. Just sheer, stubborn calculation. Leaning against the railings in front of the modern-looking block of flats, he paused for a minute to consider the best route of approach.
The building was in darkness, looking pristine and unoccupied, and totally deserted. Perfectly round droplets of rain still hung onto every shiny surface, shivering slightly in the gusty breeze. There was an entrance from the street level, just one car wide, dropping out of sight under the building. That would be the car park. He could try the door leading from the car park straight to the lifts or, he looked sharply to the front door, he could wait for an opportunity just as this. A young man, in his early twenties, judging by the clothes, was reaching for the door handle. Nick sprung up behind him and slipped in at the same time as the youngster walked out. He didn’t raise his head, looking like he was just as eager to remain anonymous as Nick was wishing for the same thing.
The door to Campbell’s place was ajar, the light sending a bright yellow shaft through the gap and onto the wall opposite. Expecting visitors? Nick eased carefully through the narrow opening, eyes everywhere, trying to blend in with his surroundings, but the light was unforgiving. After a quick inspection of the living room, Nick backed all the way to the front door and nudged it shut with his elbow. If anyone tried to come in, he would hear.
Retracing his steps, Nick moved methodically through every room. The place looked untidy, but not destroyed enough to suggest a struggle. It was skirting the fine line between a rebellious teenager’s digs and a burglary executed with care and respect for property.
By the time he’d reached the double bedroom, Nick stopped expecting any positive leads that might take him closer to his quarry. The bed was untidy, too, but someone had gone through the trouble of throwing the lavish cover over the bed sheets, before leaving the room. The same rules had not applied to the small desk by the window, however. Shuffled papers and a laptop computer power cable suggested someone had left the place in a hurry.
Somewhat more relaxed, Nick took a step towards the table, but then he reconsidered and went back to check the small en-suite first. Nothing of interest, no axe murderer hiding in the shower. Nick pulled the narrow door shut behind him and finally focused his full attention on the contents of the desk. They were mainly legal documents and the odd invoice or two. Frustrated, Nick pulled back the chair, so he could sit down and read in comfort.
As he made to sit down, and before he could touch the seat, Nick felt a strong arm wind tightly around his neck and another pulling his head back by his hair.