Fiona scowled at him. Not for his lack of attention, but for the series of staccato vibrations coming from the phone in his trouser pocket. It was the rhythm of someone messaging in anger, smashing “Send” after every short sentence.
A stolen child. A killer stalking the streets of Glasgow. A troubled detective running out of time.
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In Lomond’s absence, the killer was never found.
About the book
When a child is abducted in a similar Sandman fashion from an affluent Glasgow suburb, Lomond is brought in to find them before it’s too late.
Finally, Fiona broke off from the story to implore Maitland, ‘Can’t you put that on silent?’
If you like writers like JD Kirk, Ian Rankin, and Stuart MacBride, this addictive thriller will have you gripped until its haunting, heart-in-the-mouth climax.
I’m sharing a short but very intriguing snippet from The Bonnie Dead, the first in a new series of Scottish crime novels by Andrew Raymond. It certainly has me intrigued! Thanks to Kelly at Love Books Tours for inviting me to share this with you.
Shot through with dark Glaswegian humour and thrilling twists, he captures the voices of his beloved home city, taking you into its hidden depths, and the iconic hills and glens of nearby Loch Lomond and Arran.
The Bonnie Dead is an explosive Scottish crime thriller from Andrew Raymond – author of Amazon UK number one political thriller Official Secrets, which has now sold over 100,000 copies. 
‘Who’s texting you so much anyway?’
But the only forensic evidence belongs to a little girl who was abducted and murdered twenty years ago.
Everything about the story irritated him. Something he did a poor job of hiding.

Now, with nothing but work left in his life, Lomond remains obsessed with the case – despite the nightmares it brings.
He seemed to be making a point of not checking his phone. As if he either already knew who it was. Or didn’t want to know. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled in reply.
Five years ago, DCI John Lomond led the search for notorious Glasgow child-killer ‘The Sandman’, until personal tragedy forced him off the case.
If Maitland Ferguson had known what was going to happen to his son later that night, then he would never have spent their last five minutes together before bed reading We’re Going on a Bear Hunt for the seven hundred and fifty-third time. Not that Maitland was paying much attention to the story. He knew it inside out. While his wife Fiona took her turn reading pages with an incredulous intensity like she was discovering the story for the first time, Maitland would rhyme off entire pages without looking.
Could the Sandman’s identity lie buried in the coldest of cold cases? Or is a new killer about to claim their first victim?

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