Wednesday 28 March 2018

Dead Watch by Steve Liszka #BlogBlitz @SteveLiszka @Bloodhoundbook #DeadWatch

Life for the firefighters of Red Watch, East Brighton, is already complicated due to the imminent closure of their fire station. But this is soon to be the least of their worries.
When the team stumble upon a car in a ditch, they discover the driver is dead and a bag containing five hundred thousand pounds in cash. Before anyone arrives, the crew decide to take the money, believing it to be a victimless crime.
When they later learn that the driver was killed by a bullet wound to the head their world is turned upside down.
Then a stranger appears at the station claiming the money belongs to him.    
Soon the firefighters are drawn into a dangerous underworld and find themselves at the mercy of violent criminals.
But is this stranger who he claims to be?
And can Red Watch escape with the money and their lives intact?

Dead Watch by Steve Liszka is published by Bloodhound Books this month. I'm really happy to share an extract from the book here on Random Things today, as part of the BlogBlitz for Dead Watch.

Chapter 1
The Bullshit Hour

‘I still don’t see what your fucking problem is,’ the large, angry man said to the person seated next to him. He spoke without bothering to swallow the mouthful of egg sandwich he was chewing. 
   ‘My problem, Len,’ Dylan said cheerfully, ‘is that you have an appalling grasp of the English language.’
   Lenny laughed, ‘My English is just fine sunshine.’
   ‘Really, then let’s go through your previous statement, shall we? You said that you were working on the door, and some geezer started kicking off with the other bouncers.’
   ‘And then, you said that when he saw you, he literally shit himself, and when you told him to fuck off, he literally ran a mile.’ 
   Lenny nodded. ‘Yeah, ‘cos that’s what happened.’
   ‘No, it didn’t,’ Dylan said, ‘that’s my point. You made two factually incorrect statements in the course of one sentence.’
   Lenny looked to the other men sitting around the table who were silently listening to the argument. ‘Seriously, what the fuck is this prick talking about?’
   Dylan sighed. ‘It’s not your fault, Len, you have an incredibly small brain. That’s what happens when there’s too much incest in one family. Chromosomes go missing and shit like that.’
    ‘Really now,’ Lenny said with an air of menace to his voice. ‘I’m going to hurt you in a minute.’
   Dylan held his hands up in defence and smiled. ‘Kidding, silly. So, back to my point, did this guy actually poo himself? I mean, could you smell it?’
   ‘Nah, but he did look pretty shook up.’
   ‘Right, and did he really run a mile? I’m talking the full one thousand six hundred and whatever it is meters.’
   ‘No, but he did leg it down the road a bit.’
   Dylan clapped his hand together, ‘So, there we go. That’s not literal. Its figurative or maybe metaphorical, but definitely not literal.’
   Lenny looked at him blankly.
  ‘It’s like when someone says “I literally couldn’t get out of bed” or “It literally blew my mind.” Unless their head exploded, or they were chained to their bed, they don’t mean literally. That means it actually happened. Do you get what I’m saying?’
   ‘I guess so. But do you get what I’m saying when I tell you that I really don’t give a fuck?’ As Lenny spoke, some of his sandwich shot out of his mouth onto the table.
   Dylan looked hurt. ‘Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to teach you something,
that’s all.’
   ‘Well I don’t want to learn. I’ve learnt enough, thank you very much.’
   Dylan shook his head in mock sadness. ‘You know, there’s nothing sadder than someone whose brain is closed to new things.’
   ‘How about someone who has to eat his dinner through a straw because his jaw is broken in three places?’ Lenny said. ‘That’s pretty sad.’
   ‘True,’ Dylan agreed. ‘But I really think you’re capable of working this one out.’
   ‘Ok then, clever bollocks. You literally are a piece of shit. How’s that?’
  ‘It’s wrong, is what it is. Metaphorically, I’m a piece of shit, but keep going.’
   Lenny rolled his eyes. ‘You’re acting like a dick.’
   ‘And that, my friend, is a simile. Try again.’
   Lenny paused before speaking, like he was testing out his next answer in his mind. ‘I’ve got it! Shut up or I literally am going to smack you in the face really, really fucking hard.’
   ‘Yes!’ Dylan punched the air. ‘He’s got it, by Jove.’
   Lenny stared at him, unimpressed. ‘I’m serious. Pipe down or I’m gonna knock your teeth down your throat.’

Steve has been an operational firefighter for the past seventeen years and it was his job that led to him writing his latest novel Dead Watch. He is based at Preston Circus Fire Station in Brighton, one of the busiest in the South East. Originally from Swansea, Steve now lives in Worthing with his wife Angela and children, Buddy and Sylvie.
Steve has always been an active sports person, competing in rugby, amateur boxing, rock climbing and many other pursuits. For the past ten years, he has run his own old-school outdoor fitness classes using kettlebells, tyres, sledgehammers and various other instruments of torture.
Steve’s first novel This Machine Kills was released in 2012. It is a violent dystopian tale where the country is run by a businessman who wants to build walls around his cities to protect the residents from the poor people outside. As if that would ever happen…
You can follow him on Twitter @SteveLiszka and Facebook 

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