Some Kind of Love - Jack Dickson
(last in the Jas Anderson series: FreeForm, Banged Up)

Ladymol's review:

The last in the trilogy of Jas Anderson stories, which began with Freeform and Banged Up.

The most difficult thing about reviewing this novel is to not spoil it, or the end of Banged Up for you, if you’ve not read that yet. What happens in this one is integral the end of that. I read Banged Up and ordered this one so fast I think my fingers burnt the keyboard. Some Kind of Love is the only book I’ve ever read where I had to physically restrain myself from glimpsing at the end (except As Meat Loves Salt, which has the same level of tension).

This book is quite amazing.

If you’ve come to this site via my fiction, then you’ll know I love angst in a relationship. I put my characters through hell, but I stand in awe of the power of this man’s writing. I was so tense when I read the end of this book I actually stopped breathing. I had tears streaming down my face, and if I could have screamed NO! and read at the same time, I would have done.

If you read nothing else, get these three books, shut yourself away somewhere where nothing on earth will disturb you and read.

I’ve written to the publisher to beg the author’s contact details. Authors this good deserve feedback.

Utterly compelling. Just read.

Cerisaye's Review:

I’ve just finished this novel, and it’s a relief to breathe again.  Not that I’m anything like over the experience.  That’s going to take a while.  At least until Dickson writes a sequel. Which he has to.  Or I will personally pay him a visit, with baseball bat (in the spirit of the writing, see)- I think he lives in Glasgow, just along the River Clyde from me.

It’s very, very hard to write this review without giving away plot details, and there’s no way I’m going to deny anyone the full impact of this book.  So forgive me if it’s all a bit cagey and vague, okay?

If you’ve read the previous Jas Anderson books you already know what to expect- and if you haven’t you’ve no business reading this.  Excuse my bluntness but it is absolutely essential that you read the series in order.  And if you’re thinking he can’t possibly deliver the goods a third time, then you’re so very wrong.  There’s nothing stale or rehashed about this book, quite the opposite.

The story- or at least the prologue- picks up exactly where Banged Up ended, which comes as a relief.  Enjoy that feeling, because it’s the last time you’ll be reassured about anything in the book.  I bet you wished for exactly the same thing I did, with the fervency of a true believer in the power of love, crossing fingers and knowing all the while how badly the odds were stacked against my favourite antihero, Jas and ex cellmate Stevie McStay. 

I’ve lived with this book for the 24 hours it took to read.  Nothing took my thoughts away for long, not even the arrival of UK QAF2.  Everything was put on hold while I raced through this novel, all too aware of LadyMoluk’s desperation to discuss.  It’s more than a sequel, something that by definition implies a completeness that was missing from the earlier book.  More like part two of the same story.  Dickson, with consummate skill and absolutely no compunction, gives us our heart’s desire then uses it as a weapon turned on characters and reader alike.  I knew exactly what Jas is going through because I was with him every painful and stumbling step of the way, beginning to final page.  You’ll note I don’t use the word ‘end’ in that last sentence. 

There’s a long, slow build to a shattering climax that had tears streaming down my face so I could scarcely read the damn words.  I lay on the couch in a silent house, whispering ‘No’ and ‘You’re wrong, Jas’, and ‘Please, don’t…’, crying my eyes out for fictional characters I care about so much I hurt when they hurt- and there’s plenty of that in this story.

Dickson turns his spotlight on the blight of the West Coast of Scotland, sectarianism: bigotry, hatred, outright racism, on the grounds of religious difference.  Tracing its origins back to ancient ties with Ulster, the historic problems of that troubled province recreated in our largest city.  A city divided by religion, Protestant vs. Catholic, battle lines drawn up every time Rangers play Celtic.  Supporters to whom football is more important than life or death, Jas informs bewildered outsider, Tom Galbraith.  Tell that to Margaret Monaghan, mother of Joseph, found brutally kicked to death following a match.  She asks Jas to do what the police don’t seem willing or able, to find her boy’s killer/s.

Galbraith is an old acquaintance of Jas’, a policeman who investigates other policemen.  He hires Jas for a routine surveillance job that comes to occupy most of the PI’s time.  Are the two cases in any way connected?  And where does a series of gay bashings in Easterhouse fit in?  Jas has never had a case that hit so close to home, and never wants another.

There’s sex, frequently interrupted, desperate, raw and needy, yet powerful, even poignant- used when words fail or are inadequate.  There’s tension and angst galore, an interesting mystery to solve, but the focus of the story is a relationship that’ll break your heart, again and again.  They cling together, the f*****g wounded.  In an atmosphere laden with tense awkwardness and telling silences, driven by external pressures and inner conflict.  It’s an emotional seesaw that makes uncomfortable but compulsive reading.  What else can I say?  Go, read and weep.  Then pester the author for another dose.

Buy Some Kind of Love from Amazon here

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