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John Huggins

‘John is originally from London, but soon realised the eroor of his ways and moved to Sheffield. He started writing in 2010 following 36 years in the Cutting Tool industry.  He has just completed his fourth novel. He self-deprecatingly says his books "aspire to be black comedies."

Gabriel 'Angel' Smith is a gang leader returning to his old stamping ground after ten years pursuing his "career" in foreign parts.  He comes back to a turf war between his old Eastgate gang and The Tyson Mob. The police's organised crime squad in disarray and D.I. Daniel Loache is shacked up with Smith's sister. Things can only get worse...

‘A Dip in the Gene Pool’ is a demonstration that you can attain anything you desire, so long as you crave it with sufficient avarice and are prepared to encourage other people to work hard enough to make it worth your while claiming the credit once your goal has been satisfactorily achieved.  

If there is a single lesson to be learned, it is that whilst intellect and diligence will eventually triumph over ignorance and sloth, victory is unlikely to occur soon enough to be of any immediate help.

London has been awarded the 2012 Olympic Games, but preparations are not going to plan. There is an immediate requirement for an expensive, indoor training facility, but the money has run out.

    The problem could be solved by a generous act of selflessness, from the European Community, motivated by a desire to keep under wraps, recent illegitimate funding of French agriculture. Better still, Milton Pigden, an entrepreneurial Developer, with all the right connections, is aware of a piece of land that will be ideal for the development - and he's well connected with its owners, the international consumables manufacturer, Oswald and Parker.

    Except that the proposed site is perilously close to the infamous Newhall Wood Estate, the home of the ultra right wing, English Assembly political party, not forgetting the recent escalation of violence, as street gangs vie for control of the local drug trade. Then there is the Muslim community, still outraged at the rejection of their bid to buy the land for a new super mosque. Added to this the construction work could prove unsettling for a timid resident of the wood, the elusive Carriage Clock moth

Schuster settled back in his chair. The pain in his chest was returning but it had to be worth one last throw of the dice before he was obliged to capitulate. He sensed he would need to make it good. Brastic was smiling again.

    He gave an involuntary shudder.

    ‘I think it has escaped your memory, First Minister, that I know too much for you to blackmail me.’

    The smile for a second left Brastic’s face and he stared sternly across the table from behind hooded eyes; then without warning he relaxed and broke into a broad smile.

    ‘On the contrary, Heindrich, you know exactly the right amount; which is the precise reason I selected you to play a part in this little enterprise.’

Charlie Brinsworth is a career criminal who, on his release from a long stretch moves back to his old stomping ground and the pub bequeathed to him by his father, which was being managed for him in his absence. He hates the place, but he intends it to be temporary while he sorts himself out.

It doesn’t quite go to plan – he attracts attention from the police and the local gang who are involved in a turf war; then all hell breaks loose as he gets drawn into a conflict he would have been very happy to avoid.

Harry Litmus’ dubious past proves no impediment to him being enticed back into employment by his old MI5 boss, Jerome Whitcott.  Pity, because it is the sort of work Litmus would have been happy to avoid.  

The mission involves a review of a stalled Metropolitan Police enquiry into the bombing of a North London hotel which was at the time occupied by a large deputation from the capital’s street gang overlords.  The progress of Litmus’ enquiry is hindered by personal distractions, a lack of cooperation from the authorities, and the fact that nobody interviewed seems to have any intention of telling the truth.

Which begs the question, why did Whitcott select Harry to undertake the investigation in the first place?

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