He's also a man that just fits into this portrayal of Northern Island. Not completely stupid, not an energiser bunny, not a man given to flights of fancy, he's alone, lonely and ever so slightly sad. Not exactly brave in the face of all comers, but good and right and quietly determined. Drawing a picture of the life of Sean Duffy that's memorable, alone, not quite a lone wolf, but definitely a man who dances to his own tune. This is exactly the sort of thing that goes on throughout the book - drawing a picture of that time in Ireland that's stark, clear, sobering and moving. You needed a Picasso for this scene, not a poet.' I watched with the others by the Land Rover on Knockagh Mountain. Helicopters everywhere: their spotlights finding one another like lovers in the Afterlife. The scarlet whoosh of Molotovs intersecting with exacting surfaces. A distant yelling like that of men below decks in a torpedoed prison ship.

Phosphorescence from the barrels of plastic bullet guns. Arcs of gasoline fire under the crescent moon. 'The riot had taken on a beauty of its own now. Take, as an example, the opening paragraph:

And there definitely are points which you will feel are being hammered home hard, but at least it's done with a book of poetry.

It's restrained sure, but it's pointed, carefully drawing out the story and the sub-threads, subduing the delivery to make sure that you get the points being made. Needless to say this is not a book that pulls punches. There's a line in the book about most serial killers being able to satisfy their urges by joining one of the paramilitaries. In the middle of this climate of distrust and fear the idea that there could be a serial killer lurking, targeting gay men is strangely a novelty. It's dangerous, your life can turn on a look, or a thought, or just simply being in the wrong place with the wrong name. Even then you can get caught, and will get shot at - with malice and a clear intent to kill. Where there are places that you simply do not go unless you are in a armour plated police 4WD. A place where, as a cop, your early morning routine is coffee, brush, dress and check under your car for mercury tilt bombs before you drive to work. Sean Duffy is a Catholic copper in a Protestant police force in 1981 Ireland. It is, however, a rather different viewpoint and a different timeframe to previous books. THE COLD COLD GROUND is therefore obviously another outstanding book from this outstanding writer. And ended up with an all day reading session. So I got cunning, and started the book early in the day. I wasn't sure I could cope with another all night reading session. It's been stinking hot in these parts, so I'm already sleep deprived. THE COLD COLD GROUND arrived announcing the beginning of a new series, with a new character by Adrian McKinty and I was intrigued.

The cold cold ground book