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Sutton doesn’t like the three a.m. phone calls. He should change his number—that way Rawson wouldn’t have it. Sutton’s best mate is a hero cop, but strife flows through him like a highway.
He was supposed to die young. Maybe Millar will do it for him: she’s the hot young detective from Internal who still thinks intellect and integrity will take her places. If she doesn’t watch her step, she might find out what they are…
This is the story of good dogs living in a bad-news town—a fragrant harbour city where the judges are dead, the vendettas lively and every glittering fortune hides a sin.
An epic novel of corruption, murder and the true nature of justice, Winter Traffic announces the arrival of a compelling new voice in literary crime.
Australian literary crime fiction has a new and lethal gunslinger in Stephen Greenall. His tough but lyrical sentences fire off the page like shotgun shrapnel, and his turns of phrase upend the genre. Winter Traffic is utterly original in every respect, from its structure to its subject matter to Greenall’s ingenious prose, the narrative casting the most vile human acts and motivations in an eerie beauty, the sentences tracing through the book like raw nerves. And nobody has ever written about the dark side of Sydney in this way. After Winter Traffic, you will see the Emerald City cast in a new, and disturbing, light.
An extraordinary and unique voice…a miracle of imagination.
‘The strangeness of timelines and darkly evocative language is drawing me deeper into its spell. Set in Sydney, the writing is akin to muscular Nick Cave-esque lyrics telling of high-class escorts in eastern suburbs brothels, bikies and laconic tough-guys nursing broken hearts. One for the dark poets.’
‘Greenall has created a fast-paced tale with an original plot whose twists and turns keep the reader guessing while remaining wholly believable. The intricacies of the plot will stay in the mind of the reader long after the last page is turned.’
‘Sydney’s underbelly has been exposed before in crime fiction, but Greenall’s visceral verse gives the genre an eloquent kick in the guts.’
‘The publishers assert Stephen Greenall is in the tradition of Peter Temple, but the real resemblance is that mad dog of mayhem and murder James Ellroy…His style is nothing if not energised. It is slick with the sweat of its own throbbing enthusiasm. A sort of heroic poetry, a bit like the wobbling camera in a Michael Mann film.’
‘Emotions run high throughout the novel and the language, like the characterisation, is extravagant, often melodic, reminiscent here of the poems of Ern Malley, falling into the rhythms of Banjo Paterson…the book rewards by its very oddity, its driving rhythms and the audacious language in which it frames it complex plot.’
‘An edgy, hard-nosed thriller set in a Sydney luminous from the outside and dark within, held together by corruption, money, and revenge. Read this one in dim lighting with a hard drink in your hand.’