WHO TOOK OFFICE WORKER SHELLEY CRAIG? Read an extract from Vile City (Volume 1 Detective in a Coma)

 

#VileCity #detectiveinaComa

#crimethriller #tartannoir 

DI Duncan Waddell is on the brink of a nervous breakdown – he thinks his best pal DC Stevie Campbell, who’s been in a coma since he was attacked by a suspect, is talking to him.

When office worker Shelley rushes to her boyfriend’s aid after he is attacked, she is abducted. She wakes up in a strange room with no memory of how she got there.

On the case, Waddell finds himself in a desperate race against time to uncover the truth behind the abduction or Shelley dies.

To do this, he and his team must delve into the seedy underbelly of Scotland’s swingers’ scene and a world where women are tricked into the sex business and traded like cattle.

Vile City is out now, published by Diamond Books in paperback and eBook. 

You can buy it by clicking here

 

~ Read an extract ~

Chapter 1

Stuart was hiding something. Shelley could tell. She was always the one who’d had to wake him because he could block out the shrill of the alarm clock. Nowadays, he was up before her, grabbing the mail whilst she slept. And he’d started making breakfast – nothing much, just tea and toast, more than he’d ever made her in their near three years together.

When she’d ask him if anything was wrong, he’d shrug his shoulders, give her a wee smile and say everything was fine. She knew he was lying because his face went even paler, making his freckles stand out as if they’d been drawn in by a kid with a coloured pencil. She never pushed it, maybe because deep down she was worried that he’d tell her he’d met someone else.

The No.76 bus was empty when they clambered on board – one of the benefits of working until eleven at night in a call centre, was that there was no need to scoot past a sea of legs and become a contortionist to get on and off a bus.

Their cold breath filled the air with ghosts as they walked towards Waterstones, Shelley pausing to peek at the new crime fiction releases showcased in the illuminated windows, whilst Stuart fidgeted with his watch. He was always footering about with something since he’d given up cigarettes and it drove her mad, but at least it didn’t fill his lungs with tar and make the house smell like an overflowing ashtray.

“I need to have a pee,” he announced, as they came to the dimly lit lane off Mitchell Street that reeked of eau de Glasgow: decomposing takeaway, urine and other bodily fluids.

She groaned. “Can’t you wait until we get home, Stuart?” She knew she’d pronounced his name “Stew-art” as she always did when she was annoyed with him. She couldn’t help it.

What made men think it was okay to urinate in public?

Stuart looked pained. “Sorry, I can’t. Too much coffee tonight.”

She let him walk on ahead of her and whilst he scooted down the alley, she stood outside the amusement arcade, pretending to look in so she wouldn’t be mistaken for a prostitute. It’d happened to her once when she’d got off the bus alone. Stuart hadn’t been working that night.

Five minutes later, she was so cold she couldn’t feel her nose and Stuart still wasn’t back.

She turned the corner to look for him, fully expecting to see him ambling back towards her with that jaunty walk that always made her smile. He wasn’t there.

Where was he?

Anger welled up in her chest. Had he started smoking again? He swore he wouldn’t.

There was one way to find out.

She headed down the alley. The sole light was provided from some nearby buildings, so visibility was poor.

She’d walked a few steps when she spotted a bundle of rags on the ground. Was someone sleeping there?

She moved closer, squinting into the dim light. Stuart was lying motionless on the ground. He must have tripped and knocked himself out as he hit the concrete.

She ran to him, calling out his name, the squeezing in her chest waning slightly when she knelt and heard him groan.

She pulled her mobile phone from her bag to call for an ambulance.

She didn’t make it to the third digit. A gloved hand clamped across her mouth and nose, cutting off her airways. The phone fell from her grasp, clattering onto the cobbles. Terror gripped her and she couldn’t breathe.

As she struggled, her assailant pressed his mouth to her ear. He was so close that it occurred to her that if anyone saw them, they would think he was her boyfriend whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

“Your man’s been given a strong sedative. He’ll wake up with a sore head and nothing more. If you scream, I’ll kick him several times in the head and he’ll never get up again. Do you understand?”

The voice was cold and emotionless She didn’t recognise it and there was an accent. Not from around here.

She nodded under his hand. Then did something he didn’t expect. Backheeled him in the groin.

There was a satisfying yelp as he released her.

She ran, arms pumping away like Usain Bolt, down towards the café at the end of the alley and safety.

She’d almost made it when he grabbed her arm and hauled her back. An electric shock shot from her elbow to her shoulder as she tried to pull herself free. He was too strong.

He dragged her towards him.

Before she could scream, he punched her in the face and she went down with a thud, jarring every bone in her body, momentarily stunning her.

As she fought to get up, he punched her in the back, and she fell again.

The last thing she saw was the pavement rushing towards her before she blacked out...

Why my latest killer force-feeds their victims in Butcher City - Detective in a Coma Book 2 (the follow up to Vile City)

In Butcher City the killer's victims are force-fed in a similar way
Suffragettes were before they're killed

Years ago I lived on an island. Not one of those remote Islands but one of the most accessible ones you are likely to get. One day I was walking past a local restaurant and I was shocked to see something on the menu that's so cruel the production of it is banned in my country but not the sale. 

You can read about what happened next on my companion blog for my book Living Cruelty Free: Live a more Compassionate Life here 

That product was Foie gras which is made by ramming a metal or plastic pipe down a duck or goose's throat so their livers swell abnormally to around ten times their normal size. 

Foie gras is French and translates as fatty liver.​ 

There's never been an appetite for reversing the ban on producing it in the UK where I live because even farmers who could make money out of producing this vile 'foodstuff' find the cruelty involved too much. 

In Butcher City, DI Waddell investigates a sinister killer who's killing
people and removing their livers

When I was writing book 2 in the Detective in a Coma series (the follow up to Vile City) I wanted to do something a bit different. Come up with a different method of murder whilst also letting people who don't know into the sick little secret of how cruel a 'food' Foie gras is. 

In Butcher City, my killer craves Foie gras but is so sickened by how it's obtained he decides that he'll make a human version instead. Pretty gross but as well as coming up with a more novel way to kill people, it also gives folk an insight into one of the cruellest things humans eat. 

A food so cruel that when Scottish tennis star Andy Murray discovered what it was he banned it from being served in the hotel he owns. 

If you want to see how it's used in Butcher City you can check out the book now.

A killer is stalking his victims on Glasgow's streets.
Men are being abducted, kept tied up for weeks and force-fed, then strangled and their livers are being removed.

~from Jennifer Lee Thomson @jenthom72 and Diamond Crime~ 

#ButcherCity Detective in a Coma Book 2, the follow up to VILE CITY is out

now-

Amazon Kindle

Amazon paperback

#Kindle #paperback

"intriguing and hard-hitting story that gets dark and gritty in places but tickles my funny bone" - Sharon Beyond Books - Vile City Review

 Writers love reviews. Each is a gift. 

Here's one for Vile City (Detective in a Coma Book 1) from @ShazzieRimmel at  https://sharonbeyondthebooks.wordpress.com/2022/02/23/jennifer-lee-thomson-detective-in-a-coma-volume-one-vile-city/ who took part in my blog tour. 

Thanks, Sharon. You made a writer smile today😀

Book 2 in the series that was once called Cannibal City will be out soon under the new name of Butcher City. Also from Diamond Books. You can see more of their titles at https://diamondbooks.co.uk/library/ and on Twitter @diamond_crime

Imagine my surprise. I am invited to a blog tour of a book by an author. I recognise, go to check everything out and discover I have read the second book already AND loved it! Well, that made this book a pleasure to read, and I was super happy to have the first book to read as well.

I do like a bit of Scottish crime writing and feel the standard is set high, too. This is an intense, multi layered, fast-paced story. Jennifer Lee Thomson keeps you on the edge of your seat through. As you think you have got it cracked, she cranks it up again and blows everything out of the water.

I was glad to be able to feel like I knew DI Duncan Waddell. His partner is in a coma, and Waddell thinks he is talking to him. It was great to delve into this book, as it felt like I was getting to know more of the DI’s background.  The issues that are handled in the book incorporate the sex trafficking trade and the demeaning and horrific acts that are inflicted upon the women.

"intriguing and hard-hitting story."

Even with the heavy subjects that this book deals with, Jennifer Lee Thomson has balanced it out with humour and strong women throughout the story. It is an intriguing and hard-hitting story that gets dark and gritty in places but tickles my funny bone, too. The detective in a coma for me plays a large part in Waddell’s life. The fact that I have already read Cannibal City gives me a sort of insight to Waddell and Campbell that some won’t have.

A brilliant start to a series that I know I enjoy so much. Anyone who loves a dark, gritty, but funny too series!

 

 

WHO TOOK OFFICE WORKER SHELLEY CRAIG? Read an extract from Vile City (Volume 1 Detective in a Coma)

#VileCity #detectiveinaComa

#crimethriller #tartannoir 

*****Get the book HERE ***

DI Duncan Waddell is on the brink of a nervous breakdown – he thinks his best pal DC Stevie Campbell, who’s been in a coma since he was attacked by a suspect, is talking to him.

When office worker Shelley ruses to her boyfriend’s aid after he is attacked, she is abducted. She wakes up in a strange room with no memory of how she got there.

On the case, Waddell finds himself in a desperate race against time to uncover the truth behind the abduction.

To do this, he and his team must delve into the seedy underbelly of Scotland’s swingers’ scene and a world where women are tricked into the sex business and traded like cattle.

Vile City is out now, published by Diamond Books in paperback and eBook. 

You can buy it by clicking here

 

~ Read an extract ~

Chapter 1

Stuart was hiding something. Shelley could tell. She was always the one who’d had to wake him because he could block out the shrill of the alarm clock. Nowadays, he was up before her, grabbing the mail whilst she slept. And he’d started making breakfast – nothing much, just tea and toast, more than he’d ever made her in their near three years together.

When she’d ask him if anything was wrong, he’d shrug his shoulders, give her a wee smile and say everything was fine. She knew he was lying because his face went even paler, making his freckles stand out as if they’d been drawn in by a kid with a coloured pencil. She never pushed it, maybe because deep down she was worried that he’d tell her he’d met someone else.

The No.76 bus was empty when they clambered on board – one of the benefits of working until eleven at night in a call centre, was that there was no need to scoot past a sea of legs and become a contortionist to get on and off a bus.

Their cold breath filled the air with ghosts as they walked towards Waterstones, Shelley pausing to peek at the new crime fiction releases showcased in the illuminated windows, whilst Stuart fidgeted with his watch. He was always footering about with something since he’d given up cigarettes and it drove her mad, but at least it didn’t fill his lungs with tar and make the house smell like an overflowing ashtray.

“I need to have a pee,” he announced, as they came to the dimly lit lane off Mitchell Street that reeked of eau de Glasgow: decomposing takeaway, urine and other bodily fluids.

She groaned. “Can’t you wait until we get home, Stuart?” She knew she’d pronounced his name “Stew-art” as she always did when she was annoyed with him. She couldn’t help it.

What made men think it was okay to urinate in public?

Stuart looked pained. “Sorry, I can’t. Too much coffee tonight.”

She let him walk on ahead of her and whilst he scooted down the alley, she stood outside the amusement arcade, pretending to look in so she wouldn’t be mistaken for a prostitute. It’d happened to her once when she’d got off the bus alone. Stuart hadn’t been working that night.

Five minutes later, she was so cold she couldn’t feel her nose and Stuart still wasn’t back.

She turned the corner to look for him, fully expecting to see him ambling back towards her with that jaunty walk that always made her smile. He wasn’t there.

Where was he?

Anger welled up in her chest. Had he started smoking again? He swore he wouldn’t.

There was one way to find out.

She headed down the alley. The sole light was provided from some nearby buildings, so visibility was poor.

She’d walked a few steps when she spotted a bundle of rags on the ground. Was someone sleeping there?

She moved closer, squinting into the dim light. Stuart was lying motionless on the ground. He must have tripped and knocked himself out as he hit the concrete.

She ran to him, calling out his name, the squeezing in her chest waning slightly when she knelt and heard him groan.

She pulled her mobile phone from her bag to call for an ambulance.

She didn’t make it to the third digit. A gloved hand clamped across her mouth and nose, cutting off her airways. The phone fell from her grasp, clattering onto the cobbles. Terror gripped her and she couldn’t breathe.

As she struggled, her assailant pressed his mouth to her ear. He was so close that it occurred to her that if anyone saw them, they would think he was her boyfriend whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

“Your man’s been given a strong sedative. He’ll wake up with a sore head and nothing more. If you scream, I’ll kick him several times in the head and he’ll never get up again. Do you understand?”

The voice was cold and emotionless She didn’t recognise it and there was an accent. Not from around here.

She nodded under his hand. Then did something he didn’t expect. Backheeled him in the groin.

There was a satisfying yelp as he released her.

She ran, arms pumping away like Usain Bolt, down towards the café at the end of the alley and safety.

She’d almost made it when he grabbed her arm and hauled her back. An electric shock shot from her elbow to her shoulder as she tried to pull herself free. He was too strong.

He dragged her towards him.

Before she could scream, he punched her in the face and she went down with a thud, jarring every bone in her body, momentarily stunning her.

As she fought to get up, he punched her in the back, and she fell again.

The last thing she saw was the pavement rushing towards her before she blacked out...

How Kirsty gets her Kicks will be published in June 2019

There's nothing more exciting for an author to see the cover for their new book for the first time.

It's like waiting for your baby to be born and hoping he doesn't have your sticky out ears.

I'm delighted to introduce the cover from the awesome Shotgun Honey for How Kirsty Gets Her Kicks.

See how she runs...

You can meet Kirsty, the one-legged barmaid on the run from a gangster with a safe load of cash and a hot gun on June 2019.

5 ways you know you've written your characters well

Characters. Every great novel or work of writing needs them. Without good characters things fall flat regardless of how well something is written.

But, how do you know readers will find your characters interesting enough to keep on reading?

1.You find yourself yelling "there's no way he/she would do that."
You know them so well.

2.When you're writing a scene you find yourself getting into their head space and hearing, smelling and feeling what they do.

You're not there with them - you are them. At least whilst you're writing the scene. We're not talking multiple personality disorder here, but it might feel like it.

3.You find yourself talking about them in every day conversation as if they're a friend of yours or even a family member.

4.You start placing them in your favourite novels and TV shows relishing how they would react if they met your favourites in that book or TV show.

5.You can place them in any scene and you know how they will react. You don't have to overthink it.

One lost girl. A bus full of secrets -'My new WIP

One lost girl. A bus full of secrets - My new WIP
#amwriting

WHO TOOK OFFICE WORKER SHELLEY CRAIG? An extract from Vile City by Jennifer Lee Thomson

Vile City tells the story of abducted office  Shelley Craig and Detective Inspectorworker Duncan Waddell's attempts to find her.

Vile City is published by Diamond Crime and is available now in paper⁸ back and in eBook (across a⁸ range of formats). 

~ Read an extract ~

Chapter 1

Stuart was hiding something. Shelley could tell. She was always the one who'd had to wake him because he could always block out the shrill of the alarm clock, but these days he was up before her, grabbing the mail whilst she slept. And, he’d started making breakfast – nothing much, just tea and toast, but that was more than he’d ever made her in their two and a bit years together.

When she'd calmly ask him if anything was wrong, he’d shrug his shoulders, give her a wee smile and say everything was fine. But, she knew he was lying because his face went even paler, making his freckles stand out as if they'd been drawn in by a kid with a coloured pencil. She never pushed it, maybe because deep down she was worried that he’d tell her he’d met someone else.

The No.76 bus was empty when they clambered onboard - one of the benefits of working until 11 at night in a call centre, was that there was no need to scoot past a sea of legs and become a contortionist to get on and off a bus.

Their cold breath filled the air with ghosts as they walked towards Waterstone’s, Shelley pausing to take a peek at the new crime fiction releases showcased in the illuminated windows, whilst Stuart fidgeted with his watch. He was always footering about with something since he’d given up cigarettes⁸ and it drove her mad, but at least it didn’t fill his lungs with tar and make the house smell like an overflowing ashtray.

“I need to have a pee,” he announced, as they came to the dimly lit lane off Mitchell Street that reeked of eau de Glasgow: decomposing takeaway, urine and other bodily fluids.

She groaned. “Can't you wait until we get home, Stuart?” She knew she’d pronounced his name “Stew-art” as she always did when she was annoyed with him, but she couldn’t help it. What made men think it was okay to urinate in public?

Stuart looked pained. “Sorry, I can’t. Too much coffee tonight.”

She let him walk on ahead of her and whilst he scooted down the alley, she stood outside the amusement arcade, pretending to look in so she wouldn’t be mistaken as a prostitute. Around here, at this time of night, unaccompanied women were likely to be mistaken for prostitutes. It'd happened to her once when she'd got off the bus alone. Stuart hadn't been working that night.

Five minutes later, she was so cold she couldn't feel her nose and Stuart still wasn’t back.

She turned the corner to look for him, fully expecting to see him ambling back towards her with that jaunty walk that always made her smile. But, he wasn't there.

Where was he?

Anger welled up in her chest. Had he started smoking again? He swore he wouldn't.

There was one way to find out.

She headed down the alley. The sole light was provided from some nearby buildings so visibility was poor.

She’d walked a few steps when she spotted a bundle of rags on the ground. Was someone sleeping there?

She moved closer. Squinting into the dim light, she realised it was Stuart. He was lying motionless on the ground. He must have tripped and knocked himself out after hitting the concrete.

She ran over to him, calling out his name, the squeezing in her chest waning slightly when she knelt down and heard him groan.

She pulled her mobile phone from her bag to call for an ambulance.

She didn’t make it to the third digit. A gloved hand clamped across her mouth and nose, cutting off her airways and the phone fell from her grasp, clattering onto the cobbles. Terror gripped her and she couldn’t breathe.

As she struggled, her assailant pressed his mouth to her ear. He was so close that it occurred to her that if anyone saw them they would think he was her boyfriend whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

“Your man’s been given a strong sedative. He’ll wake up with a sore head and nothing more. But, if you scream, I’ll kick him several times in the head and he’ll never get up again. Do you understand?”

She didn’t recognise the voice, but there was an accent. Not from around here. His voice was cold and emotionless.

She nodded under his hand. Then she did something he didn't expect: she back-heeled him in the groin.

There was a satisfying yelp as he released her.

She ran, arms pumping away like Usain Bolt’s, down towards the café at the end of the alley and safety.

She'd almost made it when he grabbed her arm and hauled her back. An electric shock shot from her elbow to her shoulder as she pulled herself free. He was too strong.

She could offer little resistance as he dragged her towards him.

Before she could scream, he punched her fully in the face and she went down with a thud jarring every bone in her body, momentarily stunning her.

As she fought to get up, he punched her in the back and she fell again.

The last thing she saw was the pavement rushing towards her before she blacked out...

TO BE CONTINUED...

How Kirsty Gets Her Kicks heads from Shotgun Honey Out Dec 28th, 2018

Kirsty's loosely based on Rose McGowan's character Cherry Darling

I'm delighted to announce that I've just signed a deal with kick ass publisher Shotgun Honey to publish How Kirsty Gets Her Kicks.

You can read about the awesome Shotgun Honey here.

The novella introduces you to one-legged Glasgow barmaid Kirsty who goes on the run with a gangster's safe load of cash and gun after killing one of his security men with a stiletto heel to the skull.

Why should you want to read How Kirsty Gets Her Kicks?

It’s got a kick ass hero in Kirsty. She may have one leg - the other one was amputated after an accident - but she knows how to kick some serious butt.

She's loosely based on Rose McGowan's character Cherry Darling in Planet Terror and in Grindhouse.

There's an amazing cake that you jump out that features in a major scene in the book. Click here to read more on my blog about these pop up cakes.

There's enough twists and turns to bend your mind.

When will it be published?

How Kirsty Gets Her Kicks will be published on December 28th 2018.

Stay tuned for more details.

I'm so excited - Vile City is NOW available on pre-order

Sorry, I haven't been updating you on my progress as regularly as I would like. 

I'd love to say that I'm really a superhero and have been whizzing around saving people and bringing down bad guys. Hey, we can all dream, can't we? 

Sadly, what I haven't been doing is being a superhero. 

What I've really been doing is working on Vigilante City, book 3 in my Detective in a Coma series featuring Inspector Duncan Waddell. A crime thriller where people who seem to have gotten away with murder are being targeted by a vigilante who kills them and shoves a newspaper cutting about the victim's alleged crime down their throats. 

Book 2, Cannibal City - where a killer goes around Glasgow kidnapping men, keeping them alive for weeks and then force-feeding them before killing them and eating their livers - is already written. 

Vile City Pre-order  
The good news though is that Vile City, the first ever book in the series is now available for your entertainment on pre-order in paperback. 

Here's the to Amazon link.

You can read an extract here. 

Vile City tells Shelley's story of how she tries to make it home.

What's it about then? 
Vile City tells two parallel stories - Detective Inspector Waddell who's trying to catch a killer dubbed as the Glasgow Grabber and two, Shelley Carig, one of his victims who'll do anything to stay alive. 

I also received my copies of Vile City today and I'm so excited. Not only is the cover amazing, its also the first book I've had published with my full name Jennifer Lee Thomson. 

All of my other books have been written as Jenny Thomson (my crime thriller trilogy featuring gutsy Nancy Kerr and her former special forces boyfriend, Tommy McIntyre) and Jennifer Thomson (my self-help books, including Living Cruelty Free: Live a more Compassionate Life and Bullying - A Parent's guide.

My first book coming out with my full name is very important to me as one of the last things my dad said to me before he died after a long, brave battle with cancer was "Why don't you use your middle name?"

So, Vile city and all the other books to come are for you, dad. 

My late dad in his Elvis wig.

An extract from Vile City and what made me write the crime thriller

Vile City tells the story of abducted Shelley Craig and DI Duncan Waddell's attempts to find her.

The inspiration for Vile City 

The idea for Vile City came to me one day when I was walking through Glasgow city centre. In my mind's eye, I could see a young woman walking with her boyfriend. He's caught short and goes down an alleyway to relieve himself. 

When he hasn't returned after five minutes, the young woman goes looking for him. 

She sees him lying on the pavement as though he's fallen and leans down to check if he's okay. That's when a figure appears and grabs her and injects her with something.

It was trying to figure out why that would happen that Vile City came about. 
Who was this woman? 
What was going to happen to her?
Has she been targeted or was she simply unlucky? 
Would she live to tell the tale? 

I kept asking all these questions and like anybody would, I wanted answers.

I hope you'll be as interested to find out the answers as I was. Hey, I'm nosy like that:)

Yay, publication! 

It's been a long, long path to publication for Vile City. At one stage I was convinced the book would never see the light of day.

Yet in 2011 when I won the Scottish Association of Writers Pitlochry Quaich for a first crime novel, I thought it would help me win a publishing contract or an agent or both. I came close a few times.

One top publisher loved it, then turned round and said there were too many Scottish crime novels. Another only wanted to publish it as an eBook. But I love real, physical books. The feel and smell of them, so I turned down the contract offer.

Thankfully, Caffeine Nights came along and I was delighted. They write the kind of books I love to read and publish one of my favourite authors Shaun Hutson.

Vile City will be published in 2017. Stay tuned for the exact date.

Meanwhile, here's a sneak peek - 

Chapter 1

Stuart was hiding something. Shelley could tell. She was always the one who'd had to wake him because he could always block out the shrill of the alarm clock, but these days he was up before her, grabbing the mail whilst she slept. And, he’d started making breakfast – nothing much, just tea and toast, but that was more than he’d ever made her in their two and a bit years together.

When she'd calmly ask him if anything was wrong, he’d shrug his shoulders, give her a wee smile and say everything was fine. But, she knew he was lying because his face went even paler, making his freckles stand out as if they'd been drawn in by a kid with a coloured pencil. She never pushed it, maybe because deep down she was worried that he’d tell her he’d met someone else.

The No.76 bus was empty when they clambered onboard - one of the benefits of working until 11 at night in a call centre, was that there was no need to scoot past a sea of legs and become a contortionist to get on and off a bus.

Their cold breath filled the air with ghosts as they walked towards Waterstone’s, Shelley pausing to take a peek at the new crime fiction releases showcased in the illuminated windows, whilst Stuart fidgeted with his watch. He was always footering about with something since he’d given up cigarettes and it drove her mad, but at least it didn’t fill his lungs with tar and make the house smell like an overflowing ashtray.

“I need to have a pee,” he announced, as they came to the dimly lit lane off Mitchell Street that reeked of eau de Glasgow: decomposing takeaway, urine and other bodily fluids.

She groaned. “Can't you wait until we get home, Stuart?” She knew she’d pronounced his name “Stew-art” as she always did when she was annoyed with him, but she couldn’t help it. What made men think it was okay to urinate in public?

Stuart looked pained. “Sorry, I can’t. Too much coffee tonight.”

She let him walk on ahead of her and whilst he scooted down the alley, she stood outside the amusement arcade, pretending to look in so she wouldn’t be mistaken as a prostitute. Around here, at this time of night, unaccompanied women were likely to be mistaken for prostitutes. It'd happened to her once when she'd got off the bus alone. Stuart hadn't been working that night.

Five minutes later, she was so cold she couldn't feel her nose and Stuart still wasn’t back.

She turned the corner to look for him, fully expecting to see him ambling back towards her with that jaunty walk that always made her smile. But, he wasn't there.

Where was he?

Anger welled up in her chest. Had he started smoking again? He swore he wouldn't.

There was one way to find out.

She headed down the alley. The sole light was provided from some nearby buildings so visibility was poor.

She’d walked a few steps when she spotted a bundle of rags on the ground. Was someone sleeping there?

She moved closer. Squinting into the dim light, she realised it was Stuart. He was lying motionless on the ground. He must have tripped and knocked himself out after hitting the concrete.

She ran over to him, calling out his name, the squeezing in her chest waning slightly when she knelt down and heard him groan.

She pulled her mobile phone from her bag to call for an ambulance.

She didn’t make it to the third digit. A gloved hand clamped across her mouth and nose, cutting off her airways and the phone fell from her grasp, clattering onto the cobbles. Terror gripped her and she couldn’t breathe.

As she struggled, her assailant pressed his mouth to her ear. He was so close that it occurred to her that if anyone saw them they would think he was her boyfriend whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

“Your man’s been given a strong sedative. He’ll wake up with a sore head and nothing more. But, if you scream, I’ll kick him several times in the head and he’ll never get up again. Do you understand?”

She didn’t recognise the voice, but there was an accent. Not from around here. His voice was cold and emotionless.

She nodded under his hand. Then she did something he didn't expect: she back-heeled him in the groin.

There was a satisfying yelp as he released her.

She ran, arms pumping away like Usain Bolt’s, down towards the café at the end of the alley and safety.

She'd almost made it when he grabbed her arm and hauled her back. An electric shock shot from her elbow to her shoulder as she pulled herself free. He was too strong.

She could offer little resistance as he dragged her towards him.

Before she could scream, he punched her fully in the face and she went down with a thud jarring every bone in her body, momentarily stunning her.

As she fought to get up, he punched her in the back and she fell again.

The last thing she saw was the pavement rushing towards her before she blacked out...
TO BE CONTINUED...

Vile City - Detective in a Coma Book 1 is on the way

I was delighted to be featured in the latest Writing Magazine where I spoke about the origins of Vile City and in particular Stevie Campbell, the character who just wouldn't stop talking to me.

If you're a writer I would recommend that you subscribe to this great magazine so you can hear about markets and opportunities.

Vile City will be published in 2017 and will appear under my full name Jennifer Lee Thomson.

Before my dad passed away after a long and courageous battle with cancer, he expressed some regret that I’d never used my middle name Lee in my writing as I’m named after his great-grandmother.

Here's the blurb -

DI Duncan Waddell has big problems. He’s borderline diabetic. The paperwork is piling up faster than the underwear at a porn shoot.

Now his best pal DC Stevie Campbell, who’s in a coma after being attacked by a suspect, has started to talk to him. Trouble is, only Waddell can hear him.

The last thing he needs is the country’s biggest case to land on his lap.

Three women have gone missing in the city he’s fast coming to despise, victims of the GLASGOW GRABBER, as their assailant has been dubbed by local hack and all round thorn in Waddell’s backside, Catriona Hastie.

Shelley Craig is his latest victim, snatched as she and her boyfriend took a shortcut through Glasgow city centre.

And she’ll do anything to make it home. 

Who kidnapped Shelley Craig? 

Vile City is also the story of Shelley Craig
and her battle to make it home after she's kidnapped.