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160 pages

English

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Novel - A 1960's oil rig disaster resulting from the negligent manufacture of the main structure, leads two old friends, a happy-go-lucky fallen public schoolboy and a grieving lawyer, into the rough and tumble chaos of a 1970's Aberdeen oil boom. Meanwhile, the sudden deaths of those responsible for the rig's collapse, cast a suspicious and dangerous shadow over love and friendship alike. The love affairs between the main players and their girlfriends, one a tough female investigative journalist and the other a brilliant artist, brings further drama and tension as all those involved try to discover who and what they really are.

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Thriller

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Publié par	DINEFWR PUBLISHERS
Date de parution	04 septembre 2017
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781912317400
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0100€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Not Yet
Reviews of Julian Ruck s Novels
A fascinating read. - Steve Allen, LBC
The meteoric rise of Britain s Greatest Boy Soprano back in the mid 1930 s rivalled that of any X Factor overnight sensation. - Daily Express
A gripping if somewhat harrowing read. - The Bookbag
Julian Ruck s style is distinctive and vigorous, in tune with the attitudes and of the time he recreates and the growing sensibilities of his central characters. - Caroline Clarke, Welsh Books Council
Love, action, suspense, and a rivetting trial. It s all here. The author s legal background makes The Bent Brief a truly realistic read. - Daily Post
There s an interesting symmetry in the boys pasts that only becomes clear toward the end of the book. The undertone of innocence soon to be lost is cleverly weaved through the historical setting and the characters maturation . . . there s enough to keep readers involved! - Buzz Magazine
Like all good books, The Bent Brief has brilliant observations on life and some good literary quotes. The book draws you in and shows both sides of infidelity. It has very good twists which I didn t see coming . . . Readers will be on the edge of their seats until the very end to find out the truth. - Frost Magazine, A Thinker s Lifestyle Magazine
Julian Ruck has done it again. Ripe language and explicit sex is combined with a tinge of pathos throughout the novel. Ruck is an ebullient and talented raconteur, who obviously thrives on controversy. - Norma Penfold
A very enjoyable read, once you pick it up you can t put it down. I was hooked. - South Wales Evening Post
A gripping read, impossible to put down. An intriguing story, sharply told. - Western Telegraph
More twists and turns than a country lane . . . a cracking read. - Western Mail
What an emotional roller coaster of a novel! One certainly needs concentration as the highly colourful and incorrigible characters race across the page. There is never a dull moment. There is an engaging humour, together with a controversial, if not politically incorrect, dialogue. Ruck is a masterful and perceptive storyteller; he would have to be with such an abundance of characters in his narrative. This is the first of Julian Ruck s novels that I have read. I shall now be scouring the bookshelves for his name. - David Blatchford, Literary Critic
A captivating read in a beautiful setting . . . with an incredible twist in this pacey tale - Western Mail

Copyright Julian Ruck, 2017
Published in 2017 in the United Kingdom by Dinefwr Publishers Rawlings Road, Llandybie Carmarthenshire, SA18 3YD
The right of Julian Ruck to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.
The author would like to stress that this is a work of fiction and no resemblance to any actual individual or institution is intended or implied.
A catalogue record for this book is available from The British Library.
ISBN 978-0-9552658-2-2 ebook ISBN 978-1-9123174-0-0
Printed by Dinefwr Print Design
To Mohan Pillai
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
EPILOGUE
JULIAN RUCK S NOVELS
ALSO BY THE SAME AUTHOR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
INTRODUCTION
Somewhere in the North Sea - 1965
Men cursed everything sacred in a calmer world, as deadly rivets of steel shot through the air and panic-stricken shouts turned into screams of desperation.
The storm refused to give in. It hadn t finished yet.
There was nowhere to go.
Nowhere to hide.
Chaos.
Underneath the exposed platform, books fell from a bookshelf straight into the face of Stan Slowcombe - slow by name and slow by deed, as his mates kept on reminding him. He had managed to sleep through the danger that was erupting all around him, he was an old hand after all, but books trying to smash up his face were pushing it. He sat up, and for a few moments remained still, or at least as still as the creaking metal that swayed underneath his body allowed.
What the hell was going on? He was too bloody old for oil rig dramas, too bloody old for everything.
His bunk bed suddenly lurched and threw him onto the floor. Jesus, this was serious! The rig was in trouble. Screams of Move it! , Hurry up! and The bastard is breaking up! demanded action as Stan quickly struggled to his feet, threw on some clothes and made for the door.
His shoulders and arms were hammered into his body, as he fought his way up to the deck where a group of men were trying to release a life raft. Waves seething with rage, and winds hell bent on killing, broke their determined grips and unclasped their slippery hands.
It was hopeless.
He watched as two of his mates were swept into the icy arms of the North Sea never to be seen again. The pitiful echoes of their screams were lost in the ruthless swirls of destruction and shrieks of lethal lightening as their names fell onto yet another stone slab in some distant cemetery.
Stan and the remaining men managed to free another life raft. Six of them were able to scramble aboard. Just as Stan was about to jump in, the rig suddenly pulled in another direction and sent him careering over the side.
No-one would ever discover what killed him first, the water or cold, but then the North Sea had never been too fussy about how it slaughtered.
The end result was always the same.
CHAPTER 1
Ten years later
Josh concentrated on the swirls and tucks of the river.
Every single movement counted or told him something. Right now the ebb and flow of the River Wye was everything, its mood and temperament crucial. As his eyes wandered from bank to bank, he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Something was disturbing the secretive commotion of the riverbank, something that shouldn t be there, it was as if Nature was trying to catch his attention. He turned his head, looked and listened. Nothing. A moment of excited hope, then realisation. His memory was playing stupid tricks again. What else could it be?
He remained still, like a lump of sculptured stone pretending to be art but without the pretension. A flotilla of swans appeared and strangled the silence with their flapping wings and insolent beaks. Josh immediately moved toward them, they were not his enemy; the noise of the swans had made certain that the creature he was stalking would be unable to detect his presence.
He angled his torso forward as he tucked his elbow into his side. His body moved with an indifferent but perfect rhythm as his forearm cast the hot orange fly toward a particular spot on the surface of the river. His timing was faultless, there was no strain or effort. He was an expert.
The artificial fly hit the target and the line landed on the ripples of the river without as much as a whimper of protest. Almost immediately, and without warning the line tightened and the reel panicked. A sudden silvery jump, a dash for safety, a battle and then a war.
Minutes later sticky eyes stared up at Josh s face and demanded mercy. It didn t beg, it simply demanded. The salmon s dignity was beyond reproach, as Josh looked into the beast s eyes and saw his own hope of a few minutes earlier, but there was something more compelling about the hope that stared back at him now. Something more demanding.
Josh couldn t kill.
He sat back on his haunches for a moment and then placed the defeated monarch back in the water. For a brief second or two the salmon remained still. The man s gentle touch had not been ignored neither had his mercy.
Then it was gone.
For the second time that day Joshua Nelson had caught a fish and let it go.
The catching was always easy; it was the keeping that played havoc.
CHAPTER 2
The following morning, Josh was sitting down at the dining table trying to ignore the charwoman Mrs McGibney, who had just barged into the dining room. Well, charwoman was probably simplifying it somewhat. She was also a housekeeper, butleress (if there is such a thing), cleaner, maid, cook and general factotum, at least where his father was concerned. As Josh plastered his toast with some Frank Cooper s Vintage Oxford Marmalade, he tried to concentrate on the open newspaper in front of him. He hoped this deliberate distraction would deter any further intrusions into the serious business of breakfast time.
Mrs McGibney was having none of it. She came to the house to do and that s exactly what she did . Without exception. Her whole life gravitated around doing , so stuff her employer and for that matter, his son. What did they know anyway?
Now, Mr Nelson, the char stated in that flustered way of hers, she was always in a fluster, about your father. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips as she spoke, her voice seeming to whistle around the room in expectation of the next demand, it also indicated little if any respect for the hierarchy of the household.
Oh no here we go, Josh thought, either his father had been trying it on again in the broom cupboard, or the woman had caught him dribbling over the latest edition of Penthouse . The old boy had never been reticent where his sexual proclivities were concern