Quite Ugly One Morning, Christopher Brookmyre
My return to series in the car is currently alternating between Terry Pratchett's Discworld books and all of Christopher Brookmyre's early work. Both of them are an utter joy to listen to, and a potential threat to life and limb.
Car journeys here are, by necessity, long. Everywhere is around an hour away - at 100ks, on country roads, dodging potholes big enough to lose the car in, huge grain or hay hauling trucks, assorted wildlife from the kill you type (kangaroos) to the don't you dare kill them ones (echidna's and blue tongue lizards at this time of the year). It requires concentration, it requires focus. Tricky when you're laughing so hard you're crying.
QUITE UGLY ONE MORNING does a particularly good line in funny - provided gross, grotty and silly are things you find funny. Hearing the more grotesque, grotty and silly things in this book being read out by David Tennant made it even funnier.
If possible I'd forgotten how much I love Christopher Brookmyre's books. I am alternating backwards and forwards between these and the Discworld novels. I might have to start driving more.
Yeah, yeah, the usual. A crime. A corpse. A killer. Heard it. Except this stiff happens to be a Ponsonby, scion of a venerable Edinburgh medical clan, and the manner of his death speaks of unspeakable things. Why is the body displayed like a slice of beef? How come his hands are digitally challenged? And if it's not the corpse, what is that awful smell? A post-Thatcherite nightmare of frightening plausibility, Quite Ugly One Morning is a wickedly entertaining and vivacious thriller, full of acerbic wit, cracking dialogue, and villains both reputed and shell-suited.