Thursday, 12 March 2015
Release Date: 12th March 2015
Publisher: Avon
Genres: Crime, Thriller, Mystery
Releasing on 12th March on paperback by Avon, Disobey is a hard-hitting read that you won’t forget in a hurry …
Alfie Jenkins breaks a lot of rules. When he sets up an illegal casino in Soho there’s bad will all round and soon Alfie and those closest to him become embroiled in an all-out war with a dangerous gang.
Disobey introduces wonderful new characters and re-introduces some faces from previous Jacqui Rose books-enticing new fans and delighting existing ones.
EXTRACT
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Releasing on 12th March on paperback by Avon, Disobey is a hard-hitting read that you won’t forget in a hurry …
Alfie Jenkins breaks a lot of rules. When he sets up an illegal casino in Soho there’s bad will all round and soon Alfie and those closest to him become embroiled in an all-out war with a dangerous gang.
Disobey introduces wonderful new characters and re-introduces some faces from previous Jacqui Rose books-enticing new fans and delighting existing ones.
EXTRACT
They were all there. All of them. The faces of London coming
together, putting their differences aside to sort out the problems hitting the
streets of Soho. But as Alfie Jennings sat staring hard at Vaughn Sadler, who
in turn was staring hard at Johnny and Frankie Taylor who sat belligerently in
the corner with their backs turned on Tommy Donaldson who was refusing to converse
with Del Williams, putting their differences aside looked like it was going to
prove more difficult than any of them could have imagined.
‘Bleedin’ hell, anyone would think this is a flipping wake
from the looks on your faces.’ Lola Harding cackled out her words as she served
them chipped mugs of over-milked tea in her café in Bateman Street. She smiled
an almost-toothless grin but only received deep scowls in return, which only
served to make her laugh harder. ‘Come on gentlemen, it ain’t that bad. Look at
you all! Frankie, you look like a wet weekend in Margate, and Del, cop on to yourself,
sitting hunched up in the corner like a crack-addicted little Jack Horner. ’She
exploded into another raucous laugh, making Del scowl and mutter under his
breath.
‘Do me a favour.’ Lola
– who was now on a roll and enjoying every moment – continued, not being put
off by anyone’s lack of enthusiasm towards her. She shuffled over to another of
the London faces, poking him playfully in the chest. ‘Then you, Vaughn; Christ darling,
you look like you’re about to shit out an elephant. Come on sweetheart, I
expected better of you. What’s there to be glum about? Okay, okay, I know
there’s a little bit of trouble bubbling about but nothing you can’t handle.
Vaughn! Come on doll. Where you’ve got breath you’ve got a smile. Vaughnie
baby, give old Lola a smile. ’Vaughn glared at Lola. He could feel his face
turning red as he tried to keep down his temper. Although Lola’s antics hadn’t
brought him out in a smile, it’d certainly brought the others out in one, or rather,
it’d brought them out in smirks. And it pissed him off no end – especially as
the person who was grinning the most was Alfie Jennings, who was sitting
opposite him in the dingy café. Being anywhere near Alfie pissed him off. They
had history. Too much history. Alfie’s daughter, Emmie – Vaughn’s goddaughter –
had come to live with him and his partner, Casey a while back, and for a short
time life had been peaceful; he’d even go so far as saying it’d been idyllic,
something he’d never experienced nor could have ever imagined before, but then
this had happened. This shit which had hit Soho, smashing his peace like a big
brass fucking band.
Vaughn sighed, rubbing his head as his hair flopped over his
handsome sun-kissed face, giving him the appearance of a man twenty years his
junior. Jesus, he wished he was back in his place in Surrey, tending his roses,
making love to Casey or even listening to Emmie’s teenage strops. Anything.
Anything, would be better than fucking this.
He’d left Soho life and all it entailed a long time ago,
really only coming up for social gatherings and to catch up with old acquaintances
and that had suited him well. It was on his terms. Vaughn had spent too many
years looking over his shoulder with his life revolving around money and
violence, and finally he thought it was over. But then he’d had the call. The
code of honour call from another face. The call which meant no matter how much he
didn’t want to be here, he really had no choice. The call had come from Greg
Bradley, an old face who still lived in Soho after seventy-eight years.
Although Greg had retired a long time ago and now chose an early night and a
drink of Ovaltine over any form of ructions, all his faculties were still
intact and he was the ears and eyes of the place.
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