Signal Loss – Peninsula Crimes #7By Garry DisherSnappy ReviewLove the series, love the writing, love that it’s such a well-rounded portrayal of people, crime and the area!SynopsisA small bushfire, but nasty enough for ice cooks to abandon their lab. Fatal, too. But when the bodies in the burnt-out Mercedes prove to be a pair of[Read more]
Author Archives: boxa
Ghost EmpireBy Richard FidlerSnappy ReviewAn exceptionally rich travel narrative, steeped with history, and incredibly readable. Fascinating from start to finish in the voice of a favourite.SynopsisIn 2014, Richard Fidler and his son Joe made a journey to Istanbul. Fired by Richard’s passion for the rich history of the dazzling Byzantine Empire – centred around the[Read more]
The problem was; she read that book. And deep down it tapped in to her emotions and opened up a rage she hadn’t felt in decades. It started slowly, simmering from chapter one through to chapter ten and by chapter twenty three it had boiled over to polite fury. It didn’t occur to her that[Read more]
He liked to think of himself as the Bard of the Backyard. The Shakespeare of the streets, the voice to the voiceless and the antidote to the dope of the wires. In truth he listened to too much Nick Cave, still lived with his mother and couldn’t find a job. He was a poet. An[Read more]
Soft. Smooth. A secret. Sensible. That’s how they see her. Practical. No one would ever imagine. The trips to Sydney to see her brother, always included a visit. Here. A salacious secret. Would it ruin her if they all found out? She didn’t know. Right now, she doesn’t care. She never cares while she’s here.[Read more]
She can tell you about the thirty three different laughs that come from next door. The high pitched squeal of the children in delight and joy through to the sardonic laughter of the man who comes in late and fights with the woman. The woman’s hurt laughter as she braves the man. His hurt laughter[Read more]
For six months he caught the bus in to work. In those six months only two people returned his greeting. Two. Apart from the bus drivers, who always said hello, shared a joke, commiserated on a sporting team’s loss. One morning the ticket machine wasn’t working, everyone got a free ride into the city and[Read more]
Rooftops. That was the best part of this job. He could spend his entire lunch break just gazing out across the roofs. Occasionally he see Miss Maison from the Gelateria up on her balcony. Hanging out the washing. You’d always see the delivery trucks backing carefully up the alley behind the shops. It was quite[Read more]
A longing. A longing for sea breezes and misty rain. For green, green grass all year round, for trees that stood tall and grew straight. No more red rust dust. The smell of the smelter, it’s acrid taste so constantly depriving his senses of real aromas, of real flavours. No more coal dust; to coat[Read more]
Happy. There was such laughter in the eyes. In a face that would normally be described as small and pinched, with such expressive and delighted eyes it became ‘pixie like’ instead. People took themselves too seriously she thought. They took on too much of the world’s troubles and sorrows, immersed themselves too much in the[Read more]