Blood City by Douglas Skelton sampler
Meet Davie McCall – not your average henchman. Abused and tormented by his father for fifteen years, there is a darkness in him searching for a way out. Under the wing of Glasgow’s Godfather, Joe ‘the Tailor’ Klein, he flourishes. Joe the Tailor may be a killer, but there are some lines he won’t cross, and Davie agrees with his strict moral code. He doesn’t like drugs. He won’t condone foul language. He abhors violence against women. When the Tailor refuses to be part of Glasgow’s new drug trade, the hits start rolling. It’s every man for himself as the entire criminal underworld turns on itself, and Davie is well and truly caught up in the action. But an attractive young reporter makes him wonder if he can leave his life of crime behind and Davie must learn the hard way that you cannot change what you are. Blood City is a novel set in Glasgow’s underworld at a time when it was undergoing a seismic shift. A tale of violence, corruption and betrayal, loyalties will be tested and friendships torn apart.
Meet Davie McCall – not your average henchman. Abused and tormented by his father for fifteen years, there is a darkness in him searching for a way out. Under the wing of Glasgow’s Godfather, Joe ‘the Tailor’ Klein, he flourishes.
Joe the Tailor may be a killer, but there are some lines he won’t cross, and Davie agrees with his strict moral code. He doesn’t like drugs. He won’t condone foul language. He abhors violence against women. When the Tailor refuses to be part of Glasgow’s new drug trade, the hits start rolling. It’s every man for himself as the entire criminal underworld turns on itself, and Davie is well and truly caught up in the action.
But an attractive young reporter makes him wonder if he can leave his life of crime behind and Davie must learn the hard way that you cannot change what you are. Blood City is a novel set in Glasgow’s underworld at a time when it was undergoing a seismic shift. A tale of violence, corruption and betrayal, loyalties will be tested and friendships torn apart.
- No tags were found...
You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles
YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.
lood city<br />
He glanced back at Donovan and explained, ‘<strong>Blood</strong> on her fingers,<br />
round the nails. She’s been strangled, no visible wounds. She<br />
scratched the bastard during the struggle.’<br />
Well done, hen, Donovan thought.<br />
A movement on the towpath, just a slight shifting in the darkness,<br />
caught Donovan’s eye.<br />
‘Jimmy,’ he said, and the other officer looked back towards him.<br />
Donovan nodded up the path and Knight followed his gaze, his<br />
eyes squinting against the gloom.<br />
He murmured, ‘Someone up there?’<br />
‘Looks like it,’ said Donovan, keeping his voice low.<br />
‘Is it the murder team?’<br />
‘No, just one person, he’s stopped dead still. Doesn’t want to<br />
be seen.’<br />
‘Fuck that for a game of soldiers,’ said Knight and took a couple<br />
of steps along the path, his torch in his hand now. He clicked it on<br />
and swung the beam along the towpath, the light picking out the<br />
frost hanging in the air like mist. ‘Come on, pal, don’t be messin<br />
about. Let’s see ye.’<br />
There was a slight pause before the figure stepped into the beam.<br />
A young man, still a teenager, his hair long and straggly, his body<br />
encased in a blue anorak and blue jeans. There was a white scarf at<br />
his throat to ward off the cold. He moved hesitantly towards them.<br />
Knight asked, ‘What you doing here, pal?’<br />
‘Just walking,’ said the youth, still moving towards them. ‘Then<br />
I saw you standing there and I thought there was something wrong.’<br />
He was well-spoken and Donovan immediately pegged him as<br />
coming from the smarter part of the West End and not the immediate<br />
Maryhill vicinity – Kelvinside, Hyndland, maybe even Bearsden<br />
up the road. The question was, what the hell was he doing walking<br />
along the banks of the Forth and Clyde past midnight? The 200<br />
year old waterway was not the place for a moonlight stroll.<br />
‘Well, you thought right,’ said Knight. ‘What’s your name?’<br />
15
Change language