The Beach House
by P.R. Black
This vacation is about to turn deadly...
Cora's on the island vacation of her dreams: a private beach in paradise, a romantic proposal, and an eight-figure cheque following the sale of her new fiancé’s business.
When their island turns out to be not so private after all, Cora tries to make the best of a bad situation by inviting their strangely friendly neighbors to celebrate with them.
But it doesn't take long for her once-in-a-lifetime holiday to take a very sinister turn...
My Rating:
‘If that’s your best come-on line, then that’s some weak sauce.’ ‘Trust me,’ Jonathan said – with that particular twinkle in his eye that usually meant she should do the opposite.
They had gone to see a conch expert at the conch museum, where a man in bright red ‘CONCH MUSEUM’ T-shirt had held up a live specimen of the shellfish, dripping wet from the pool, and told the rest of the spectators with a straight face: ‘This is a conch. And this is its penis.’ He went on to tell the assembled tourists how the humble conch has the biggest penis-to-body ratio in the animal kingdom, at which point Cora began to suffer from a coughing fit, which meant she had to go outside and laugh properly.
Cora hadn’t failed to notice he was absurdly ripped, with one of those fat-free gym-honed physiques that looked as if they shouldn’t exist outside of a comic book – abs she could have played a tune on, straining muscle fibre best suited to a racehorse and a closely shaven chest that might have belonged to Action Man.
‘Mixed Martial Arts. I was only thinking about it. I’ve got this health condition that stops me from getting into the ring.’ ‘What’s that?’ ‘I’m allergic to getting punched in the face.’
When a man lives with a woman who could disembowel him with a dessert spoon, a man understands when to shut up.
I’ll let you in on another secret –I’m great at lying. Hey, I’m a primary school teacher… About eighty percent of my job is bullshitting children so they can sit still, and shut up. It’s a skill. You get good at it.
My Review:
This compelling book started off with crisp humor and amusing levity that put a smirk on my face and had me gleefully nestling in my chair for a snug session of relaxed reading. However, the tone soon turned a bit tauter, and steadily more so, until the smirk disappeared and I fell into Mr. Black’s vortex of intriguing doppelgangers, dangerous con artists, and a stupidly rich idiot fiancé and I totally lost track of myself as well as time. Wow, this absorbing read was nonstop action and cunningly well-paced with more twists and turns than a snake’s trail.
When I finally stopped to catch my breath and seek a bit of sustenance, I noticed my shoulders were in my ears and I was white-knuckling my Kindle, which was generally my reading posture for the remainder of the tale. I resented any interruption to my perusal and may have been rather snappish when my sweet husband inquired about dinner. Oops. I seemed to have fallen under what I’m calling The P.R. Black Spell, as this wordsmith is obviously a master of the darker arts of word voodoo.
About The Author
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Author and journalist PR Black lives in Yorkshire, although he was born and brought up in Glasgow. When he's not driving his wife and two children to distraction with all the typing, he enjoys hillwalking, fresh air, and the natural world, and can often be found asking the way to the nearest pub in the Lake District. His short stories have been published in several books including the Daily Telegraph's Ghost Stories and the Northern Crime One anthology. His Glasgow detective, Inspector Lomond, is appearing in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. He took the runner-up spot in the 2014 Bloody Scotland crime-writing competition with “Ghostie Men”. His work has also been performed on stage in London by Liars’ League. He has also been shortlisted for the Red Cross International Prize, the William Hazlitt essay prize and the Bridport Prize.
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