Book Reviews by Elizabeth A. White

You’re probably familiar with Russel D McLean’s books featuring Dundee, Scotland based private investigator J. McNee (The Good Son and The Lost Sister ), but before he cut loose with those powerhouse full length crime fiction offerings McLean gave the world glimpses of what was to come via a series of short stories featuring the character Sam Bryson.

Also a Dundee, Scotland based private investigator, the tales of Sam Bryson have heretofore been scattered hither and yon throughout crime fiction publications such as Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, Thrilling Detective Mystery Magazine, Spinetingler Magazine, and Needle.

As a result, most people have not been fortunate enough to read all of them, and many have never had the good fortune of meeting Mr. Bryson at all. Fear not, as The Death of Ronnie Sweets (and other stories) features the complete Sam Bryson collection.

The collection opens with the eponymous “The Death of Ronnie Sweets,” in which Bryson is hired by the parents of a young man who was brutally beaten and left for dead. In addition to being an interesting case, was Ronnie an innocent victim or mixed up in something unsavory, the story gives us a glimpse of Bryson’s past as a police officer and sets the tone for what’s to follow; namely, edgy, well-crafted stories that don’t flinch from tackling some of the more unpleasant aspects of life: crime and corruption, danger and doubt, regret and revenge amongst others. (more…)

Sometimes I feel as though my life is made up of other people’s stories. – J. McNee

When we last saw J. (first name never given) McNee in author Russle McLean’s debut, The Good Son, he was on a slow rebound after having lost his fiancée to a car crash and his job as a police officer to a violent outburst that left both his career and his boss’ nose shattered.

He’s settled into life as a private investigator, more or less, and The Lost Sister kicks off with McNee taking a call with a request from a reporter he’s worked for before: look into the disappearance of a missing fourteen-year-old girl. It seems like a simple enough request, but McNee should have known better.

For starters, the police are also actively working the case, and though he still has a few contacts on the force he’s not the most popular guy around the precinct house anymore. Worse, it turns out the missing girl’s godfather is none other than David Burns, the local crime boss and a seriously nasty piece of work.

Given that his last run-in with Burns ended with McNee’s assistant shot and in a wheelchair, and McNee nursing a severely broken hand and barely escaping a murder charge, McNee makes the decision to walk away from the case least his emotions get the better of him. And he almost makes it. Almost. (more…)

You may notice that I am not Elizabeth. There may be several clues to this fact. The first in my accent. Let me assure you I do not have a speech impediment. I am merely Scottish. Secondly my beard. I call it “hobo chic” while others call it, “can’t be bothered shaving.” Both are true.

I am taking over Elizabeth’s site today in what will be the penultimate stop on my Blog Tour. For thirteen days I have been trawling the internet to promote the release of my latest novel, THE LOST SISTER. I believe Elizabeth may already have posted her thoughts on the book. I don’t know what they are. I sure hope she enjoyed it. [Elizabeth's Note: Review tomorrow, and I enjoyed the hell out of it.]

As we are coming to the end of the tour (this is the penultimate post – if all goes well, tomorrow I shall be invading fellow Scots crime writer, Stuart MacBride’s blog), I have covered a variety of topics. I have talked about setting books in a relatively unknown Scottish city. I have discussed movies and books that played a huge part in my development. I have toppled the myths of genre and discussed the best way to approach writing a sequel.

What I have not talked about is why I do any of this.

What made me a writer?

Because, seriously folks, you have to have your brain examined if you want to try doing this for a living. It’s a tough life. Your work has no intrinsic value. This thing that you for a living rises and falls on people’s opinions and moods. Technical skill counts for little if you don’t engage readers on some emotional level. (more…)