Monday, 15 January 2018

Games with the Dead by James Nally

Series: DC Donal Lynch #3
Release Date: 28th December 2017
Publisher: Avon
Genres:  Crime / Thriller

Meet PC Donal Lynch – aspiring detective, alcoholic, insomniac, and seer of dead people…

‘An intoxicating Thriller’ SUN

Irish runaway. Insomniac. Functioning alcoholic.

Life is about to get complicated for DC Donal Lynch.

When a young woman is kidnapped, Donal is brought in to deliver the ransom money. But the tightly-planned drop off goes wrong, Julie Draper is discovered dead, and Donal finds his job on the line – a scapegoat for the officers in charge.

But when Donal is delivered a cryptic message in the night, he learns that Julie was killed long before the botched rescue mission. As he digs further into the murder in a bid to clear his own name, dark revelations make one thing certain: the police are chasing the wrong man, and the killer has far more blood on his hands than they could even imagine.

A gripping, brutal and addictive thriller, perfect for fans of Ian Rankin and James Oswald.


‘Okay, you’re going to think I’m bonkers, Edwina, but something keeps happening and I don’t understand how or why.’

She sits forward, stirring her cocktail absently.

‘Every time I’ve been physically close to a murder victim . . . they’ve come to me that night, in really vivid visions. I can’t say dreams because they’re not. They’re too real and they happen when I’m awake.’

She nods greedily, demanding more.

Gin-trapped, I run her through every incidence; the visions, the clues, how it helped me find bodies and even crack some tricky investigations. She hangs on every word, a rapt audience of one, growing increasingly uneasy with each revelation.

To assuage her mounting horror, I tell her about my sleep paralysis diagnosis, and how this might explain what’s happening to me. I then hit her with my own pragmatic theory; that my subconscious mind is presenting clues to me in an unorthodox, visual way.

‘I really can’t listen to much more of this,’ she declares suddenly, standing and flapping about for her belongings.

‘Look, I know as a scientist you don’t buy a word of it. Trust me, I wish it wasn’t happening to me.’

‘I really must be off.’

‘But there’s half a pitcher left . . . why don’t we take it with us down to the South Bank?’

‘Have it,’ she snaps.

‘I feel like I’ve angered you, Edwina.’

‘Not at all,’ she says. ‘It’s just this place can get so noisy and stuffy. I need some air, okay? I’ll call you.’

She casts me an apologetic, closed-mouth smile before vanishing into the throng. She’s right. It is noisy and hot, but I know few things bring a date more swiftly and decisively to an end than declaring you receive regular one-on-one briefings from the recently murdered.

About the author

James Nally was a journalist for 15 years, before leaving to become a producer and director of TV and film. This is his first novel, and is based on his experiences of his years writing about the murder victims of London. 

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