Losing the Plot by Richard Grainger - Book Tour + Giveaway
Losing the Plot
Richie Malone #1
by Richard Grainger
Genre:
Thriller, Romantic Suspense, Mystery
Thriller, Romantic Suspense, Mystery
"Let me tell you about my day so far. I’ll begin by telling you
about waking up in my Marbella villa to find a dead girl in
my bed; about being interrogated by the Spanish police – or
hombres purporting to be the Spanish police; about learning
that I’m going to have my kneecaps shattered by the
former Chief of Staff of the Provisional IRA. That is, if he can
find me before the godfather of the Andalucian Russian mafia
hunts me down. And not only that; it’s not yet ten o’clock
and I’ve taken up smoking and have drunk half a bottle of
brandy before I’ve even had breakfast." Richie Malone is
an old-school philanderer, misogynistic playboy and writer with an
undeniable charm. Although he has yet to pen anything to attract
literary acclaim using his own name, he has made a fortune writing
pornographic novels under a female pseudonym. But now his troubles
are just beginning. He needs answers, and he needs them fast. Just
who is this dead girl? How did she get here? And why his bed? And, of
course, did he kill her? Malone finds himself caught in the middle of
a turf war between Irish racketeers, the Russian Mafia and a
Columbian cartel. And so, he loses the plot. But can he get it back
before he loses everything … including his life?
about waking up in my Marbella villa to find a dead girl in
my bed; about being interrogated by the Spanish police – or
hombres purporting to be the Spanish police; about learning
that I’m going to have my kneecaps shattered by the
former Chief of Staff of the Provisional IRA. That is, if he can
find me before the godfather of the Andalucian Russian mafia
hunts me down. And not only that; it’s not yet ten o’clock
and I’ve taken up smoking and have drunk half a bottle of
brandy before I’ve even had breakfast." Richie Malone is
an old-school philanderer, misogynistic playboy and writer with an
undeniable charm. Although he has yet to pen anything to attract
literary acclaim using his own name, he has made a fortune writing
pornographic novels under a female pseudonym. But now his troubles
are just beginning. He needs answers, and he needs them fast. Just
who is this dead girl? How did she get here? And why his bed? And, of
course, did he kill her? Malone finds himself caught in the middle of
a turf war between Irish racketeers, the Russian Mafia and a
Columbian cartel. And so, he loses the plot. But can he get it back
before he loses everything … including his life?
Goodreads * Amazon
PROLOGUE
ONE
PROLOGUE
NINE MONTHS AGO
I leave the Moët Bar feeling mildly pleased with myself.
And why not?
I have a new nickname – ‘Belfast Boy’ – which carries a certain
gravitas, swinging precariously between intrigue and decadence.
I can’t remember exactly who it was who called me this, but I
didn’t sleep with her, which for me is quite unusual.
I’d been double-parking shitty Spanish beer with equally shitty
cheap white wine for several hours and, truth be told, the prospect of sex
somehow got shunted down the to-do list.
But I remember she had the deepest green eyes I could swim in
without drowning, long, tanned legs that I would gladly die between and an
accent that located her somewhere near Belgrade.
I know these things; don’t ask me why. There’s the intrigue bit
coming out.
Anyway, the point is that despite the fact that I would gladly
have swum up the Lagan to hand-wash her underwear, there were too many other
attractive women in my backfield. To cop off with one would have diluted my
chances of nailing the others at a future opportunity.
Tip number one: sometimes, amigo, it’s necessary to take a
strategic ‘did not bat’ in the interest of the bigger picture.
Anyway, in addition to being a stunner, she had one of those
quirky names that stubbornly wouldn’t stick in my mind. I’m pretty good at
getting a bird’s name, but I’m struggling here.
I’m thinking maybe Agata? The first and last letters were
definitely ‘A’s, so – I’m guessing – Agata would definitely be in the ballpark.
Birds love it when you get their name right, when you admire it and show you’ve
remembered, but don’t overuse it because that’s just tacky, like sending
flowers after the first shag. Or even worse, getting flowers delivered to a bar
you know she’ll be drinking in with her mates. That’s stalking, and it’s also
tacky.
Okay, so this is how things finished up:
I insult the new waitress – who turns out to be the owner’s
daughter – but repair the situation to the extent that I’m given a drink ‘on
the house’.
I call a man with a small, bemused-looking dog a drug-dealing
homosexual, and he also offers me a drink.
I tell the doorman – who intervened after I had insulted the
waitress – that if he continues to look at me in the disdainful manner
appropriate for the English tourist, he will have to surgically remove my glass
from his anus.
Maybe a little of this is lost in translation, but he also
bought me a drink.
And so, all in all, things could have turned out a whole lot
worse.
So what is it about me?
You see, I can’t go anywhere where I have an audience and behave
anything other than badly.
Especially when young, attractive women scaffold my ego. They
accelerate this fucked-up mentality that pushes the ‘twat’ button in my psyche.
It’s like a drug – I have attention, but I crave more.
***
My name is Richie Malone. Let me tell you a bit about myself;
that is, if you don’t already know me.
I’m fifty-two years old.
I’m incredibly good-looking – think George Clooney-slash-Keanu
Reeves. Despite thirty years of depravity, my physical decline has been slowed
by a fixation for running and the gym which almost rivals my obsession with
women, so I look much younger than my years.
I’m a writer and a sex addict.
Fuck, that was harder to say than I’d expected – I mean, the
writer bit. I’ll tell you why in a moment.
I was married for an eternity and then I lived with a woman for
almost ten years until last December, when she decided to become a lesbian and
moved in with her lover.
So then I moved to Spain; not because I have a love of
bullfighting and the peel of church bells, but because even a total, imbecilic
fuckwit can pull beautiful women. Which is pretty much all I’ve been doing
since I moved here; I can’t beat them off with the proverbial shitty stick.
Until, that is, something went terribly wrong: you’ll know what
when you’ve read the next chapter.
But now you know me.
Remember the name: Richie Malone.
Belfast Boy.
ONE
TODAY, 05.45
You’ve got to understand this. No one is what they appear to be.
If they tell you that they are, then they’re lying.
And you’ll see exactly why I say this when you’ve read this
sorry narrative.
For my money, all women are basically the same. The only ones I
tend to remember are the truly dreadful ones. You know, the ones who bite you
like some fucking Transylvanian freak or consider it’s witty to text that they
don’t do anal on a first date.
And sometimes I get confused between my ex-wife and my
X-any-number-of-women I’ve slept with because it all breaks down into that
dreadful cauldron of white noise that is the catharsis of any relationship; and
doubtless they think the same about me, but that’s not really the issue right
now.
The issue right now is the dead girl lying next to me.
Just the bare facts would do for now, like who is she, how the
fuck did she get here and, of course, what is she doing being dead?
Care
to share?
Richard Grainger has worked as a teacher, personal trainer, restaurateur, and
journalist. His speciality is finding interest in the mundane and
making dull people and their narratives come alive.
journalist. His speciality is finding interest in the mundane and
making dull people and their narratives come alive.
Losing the Plot is his debut novel and is the first in the Richie Malone
series. He is working on a second novel, Saving Dave. His first book,
The Last Latrine, is an account of his experiences in Nepal running
the world’s highest marathon.
series. He is working on a second novel, Saving Dave. His first book,
The Last Latrine, is an account of his experiences in Nepal running
the world’s highest marathon.
Richard divides his time between Marbella, Spain, where he writes, and
Wroclaw, Poland, where he enjoys Polish beer and teaches English part
time. His main interests are Rugby Union, cricket, history, and horse riding.
Wroclaw, Poland, where he enjoys Polish beer and teaches English part
time. His main interests are Rugby Union, cricket, history, and horse riding.
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