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Snow Hill by Mark Sanderson

“I went to my funeral this morning.”

That is the opening line of the main character’s diary and of the book itself. If that doesn’t prompt you to keep writing I don’t know what will.

 John Steadman, writer of the diary, is a young journalist in 1930s London who receives a tip off about the murder of a police officer. Despite being told that the information is false by his copper best mate Matt, other members of the forces and his colleagues at work, he is determined to solve the mystery. His investigations rattle some dangerous cages but his ambitions to scoop the story of his career and help the people around him force him to go undercover as his life is threatened.

This tale is a great mix of cops and criminals, and the role of the press in between. It’s goodies versus the bad guys, although at times you’re not sure who plays for which side. I liked the setting of 1930s London which for me conjured pictures of smart suited gentlemen and classic feminine women against a smoky, dark London backdrop. There is a great cast of characters and an ever-thickening plot that will leave you satisfied by the last page.

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