QUITE UGLY ONE MORNING

COUNTRY OF THE BLIND

NOT THE END OF THE WORLD

ONE FINE DAY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

BOILING A FROG

A BIG BOY DID IT AND RAN AWAY

BE MY ENEMY

ALL FUN AND GAMES UNTIL SOMEBODY LOSES AN EYE

A TALE ETCHED IN BLOOD AND HARD BLACK PENCIL

ATTACK OF THE UNSINKABLE RUBBER DUCKS

THE SACRED ART OF STEALING

Let us prey ...

The press tend to talk about bank robberies as being daring, ingenious and audacious. They don't describe many as Dadaist, even the ones who know what 'Dadaist' means. But how else does one explain choreographed dancing gunmen in Buchanan Street, or the surreal methods they use to stay one step ahead of the cops?

Angelique de Xavia is no art critic, but she is a connoisseur of crooks, and she's sure that the heist she got caught up in wasn't the work of the usual sawn-offs-and-black-tights practitioners indigenous to the parish. She knows she's dealing with a unique species of thief, and it's her job to hunt him to extinction - though the fact that it's not just his m.o. that's cute might prove a distraction.

This thief, however, has greater concerns than his own safety, and a secret agenda more valuable than anything he might steal. He can afford to play cat and mouse with the female cop who's on his tail; it might even arguably be necessary. What he can't afford to do is to let her get too close; he could end up in jail, which holds terrors enough; but even more scary, he could end up in love.

Honesty is a virtue. Deceit is a talent. Theft is an art form.

The Sacred Art Of Stealing: prepare to be misled.

Read an extract.

What the newspapers said about THE SACRED ART OF STEALING:

Good: The Sunday Times, The Times, The Observer, Sunday Express, The Express, Daily Mail, The Mirror, The Scotsman, The Herald, Daily Record, Morning Star, Time Out, Heat, New Woman, Venue, Caledonia, Punch

Awright: Sunday Tribune (Ire)

Shite: Scotland on Sunday, Sunday Herald

I didn't need to read it to know it was shite: Colin Waters, Sunday Herald.

The big indicator that Colin neglected to read the book before penning his annual damning review is that he refers to Zal "Clermiston". Arguably an understandable mistake, even given that the correct name - Zal Cleminson - is mentioned several times, but considerably less understandable in light of there being a scene in the novel in which a police officer is publicly corrected for having made the very same error. Oops.

This year's "Frustrated Male on a Scottish Broadsheet Arts Desk Spits the Dummy" display: SB Kelly, Scotland on Sunday. "Two-dimensional and sleazy... truly risible... delusions of competence... cliché-rich..." (Two points if you spot the irony that lies somewhere between those last two phrases.)
"This should have a sticker on it saying Attention-Seeking Behaviour." Something this style of review could never be accused of, natch.

Yes, she is talking about a Brookmyre novel: "A cracking read, and one that's likely to make you say 'Aaaahhh' at the end." Hannah Jones, Heat

Your tenner is in the post: "...the novel manages to work in several directions at once - thriller, love story, social satire and a warning against taking absurdism too seriously." Stephen Blanchard, Time Out

Order a copy.