The Wrong Kind of Blood (Ed Loy Mystery 1) - Softcover

Hughes, Declan

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9780719567469: The Wrong Kind of Blood (Ed Loy Mystery 1)

Synopsis

'The night of my mother's funeral, Linda Dawson cried on my shoulder, put her tongue in my mouth and asked me to find her husband. Now she was lying dead on her living room floor, and the howl of a police siren echoed through the surrounding hills . . . '

Ed Loy hasn't been back to Dublin for twenty years. But his mother has died, and he has returned home to bury her. Loy soon realizes that the world waiting for him is very different from the one he left behind all those years ago. When an old school friend asks him to investigate the disappearance of her husband, Loy reluctantly agrees.

And suddenly in this place where he grew up - among the Georgian houses, Victorian castles, and modern villas of Castlehill - Loy finds himself thrown into a world of organized crime, long-hidden secrets, corruption and murder.

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About the Author

An award-winning playwright and screenwriter, Declan Hughes is cofounder and former artistic director of Rough Magic Theatre Company. He was Writer-in-Association with the Abbey Theatre and lives in Dublin with his wife and two daughters.

From Booklist

PI Edward Loy returns to Ireland from California to bury his mother and lands himself in a knotty thicket of iniquity, as the Irish real-estate boom unearths old corpses and creates a few new ones. Retained by a profligate lady friend to find her missing husband, Loy wades into the labyrinthine dealings of two conspicuous families, the land--developing Dawsons and the drug-dealing Halligans, who may have more in common than either would like to admit. Loy is the sort of brash PI who would as soon use his head for inflicting blunt-force trauma as for cogitation. Hughes lacks his countryman Ken Bruen's knack for making such feral types compelling, and his fine turn of phrase is marred by a proclivity for long expository speeches. On the other hand, he vividly conveys the sights, sounds, and smells of the Dublin streets. He's clearly a cut or two below such gritty Irish bards as Bruen, John Connolly, and Adrian McKinty, but he bears watching. David Wright
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