Pat Mullan
"You know you're reading a good thriller when you start to cast it for the movie before you've even finished." Eithne Hannigan, BOOK REVIEWS, CONNEMARA LIFE magazine, Autumn 2002
You know you're reading a good thriller when you start to cast it for the movie before you've even finished. The plot is as complex as a Grisham novel, with twists and turns that kept me reading all night. It deals with corruption in high places and sinister secret societies and collusion between those who want more power.
The characters are exceptionally well drawn and the dialogue fairly whips along. With the action moving from the elegant rooms of the White House to shootings in New York bars, car chases and mysterious cult rituals, the story catapaults the reader around the United States with confidence. As the plot thickens - as they say! - paranoia battles with genuine anxiety about the U.S. government under threat from those who have a blackmailing agenda.
All the ingredients for a good thriller are here. Owen MacDara is an ex-medical intern who served in Korea, now a millionaire business consultant. His previous history in the army leads him to take up a personal vendetta for the deaths - or are they murders? - of several of his former army buddies. His soulmate is the beautiful daughter of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff upon whom MacDara had operated, in strictest confidentiality, in Korea. The subplots interweave as the protagonists' lives become affected by seemingly unrelated killings. Only MacDara begins to sense a more wide-ranging conspiracy.
The details about the internal workings of the U.S. President's office and the machinations of those 'who would be king' are neatly plotted, with enough kidnappings, torture and sex to satisfy any connoisseur of the thriller genre.
It's pacey and exciting and filmic in its descriptions, and is an impressive first novel.
Definitely a gripping read for these long winter evenings ...........
Eithne Hannigan holds an M.A. (hons.) in English and Law from King's College, Cambridge. She worked as an actor, musician and writer with Liverpool Everyman, Liverpool Playhouse, National Theatre and Donmar Warehouse in London. She then joined the BBC to present Playschool and, from 1987 to 1990, she presented her own show, Dot. Today she tours Ireland with her own band, Some Like It Hot. She has played at all the prestigious Jazz and Blues festivals both in Ireland and Britain, including Edinburgh and Glastonbury. Television appearances include The Late Late Show and Nighthawks.
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"Here comes Pat Mullan with a thriller that will do exactly that...thrill you!" Ken Bruen
Just when I'd lost faith in thrillers and reckoned I'd exhausted the genre, even Jack Higgins seemed to have tired of the formula, along comes a humdinger of a book to revive my joy in the art of thriller writing. Somehow it seems to be accepted that this discipline is not so difficult.....whoa, is that ever a misconception. When was the last time you were on the edge of your chair or stayed up way too late as a plot wouldn't let you go? Here is the book to satisfy all of the above.
Here comes Pat Mullan with a thriller that will do exactly that...thrill you. From the amazing opening, I defy you not to swallow this in one huge gulp and pray like me that his sequel will be soon. With an absolute cracker of a hero and soaring writing, the story is mesmerising, you just can't turn the pages fast enough.
Another misconception is that thrillers are not well written. Pat Mullan knocks that notion right out of the water. That he is a poet is immediately evident and when you think of that other fine poet, James Lee Burke, you'll know you are in the same creative territory. The quality of the writing raises the terrific story to new heights.
Buy two copies as you'll immediately want to share the joy with someone and I promise you, you won't want to part with your own copy. Here is the future of the thriller and it's called PAT MULLAN. Glory be indeed.
About Ken Bruen.
The Guards, Ken's first Jack Taylor novel was published by Brandon last year and has been optioned for film rights by De Facto Films of Derry. His novel Her Last Call to Louis MacNeice (1997) is currently in production for Pilgrim Pictures. The Guards and The Killing of the Tinkers, also published by Brandon, have been signed up for publication in the US by St Martin's Press and, in Australia, by Duffy and Snellgrove. An Albanian edition of The Guards will be published this year. Ken is the author of eleven novels (Rilke on Black was shortlisted for the 1996 First Blood Award) but The Guards is the first in which US, Australian or Albanian rights have been sold. His "White Trilogy" books have been bought by Channel 4 in the UK.
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What Writer's Digest is saying about The CIRCLE of SODOM
"This is an exciting and gripping novel, tight and tense, with a stunning climax."
---Ardath Mayhar, Writer's Digest 10th Annual Self-Published International Book Awards, Spring 2003
The quality of the physical book, as well as the stunning effect of the cover art, makes it one that any reader of thrillers should pick off the shelf.
Combining elements from the Korean War, fundamentalist fanaticism, modern terrorism, political intrigue, and an attempt to seize control
Pat Mullan was born in Ireland and has lived in England, Canada and the USA. He is a graduate of Northwestern University and the State University of New York where he studied creative writing. Formerly a banker, he now lives in Connemara, in the west of Ireland. His novel, The CIRCLE of SODOM, is available on all the on-line stores. He has just completed a second novel, BLOOD RED SQUARE, which was published in 2005. His story Tribunal is now (2006) in Akashic Books' DUBLIN NOIR, edited by Ken Bruen. Tribunal is part of his current novel in progress; set mainly in Ireland, it will introduce Ed Burke. He is a member of International Thriller Writers, Inc. and Mystery Writers of America . You can visit Pat at www.patmullan.com and you can read his blog at www.patmullan.blogspot.com
The DJ at Xanadu wore a red beehive hairdo, false eyelashes, press-on fingernails and a big, fluffy boa draped around ‘her’ neck. 'She' had always fancied Larry Sanderson but he had never been interested. It was Saturday and she spotted him at the bar.
"Larry, Honey, where have you been lately?" she gushed.
"Working, Sydney. Just working. Nothing more exotic," said Larry.
"You know what they say about that, honey. All work and no play makes Larry a dull boy. Just let me know when you want to play. I can promise you a good time."
"Sydney, love, thanks. I think I just want to be alone tonight."
"Honey, you don't know what you're missing," said Sydney in a huff as she glided back to play some more selections before the show began.
Xanadu was an upscale gay entertainment place with a bar, restaurant and club. Larry Sanderson seldom went there. It was a bit too yuppie for him. But he enjoyed the shows. Larry managed to keep his private and public personas apart. No one at the NSC knew he was gay. If they thought about him at all, they'd probably conclude that he was asexual, just like his computers. That suited Sanderson. The NSC was a macho heterosexual place. Coming out of the closet could only lead to trouble. There was still lingering resentment over the President's 'gays in the military' policy.
Most people were dancing. The floor was packed and there was a party atmosphere in the place. As Larry watched, spotlights shone on the three circular tables in the center of the floor, illuminating the table dancers, the stars of the evening. They were all good-looking, well-built young men wearing only the skimpiest of red silk underwear. The choreography was professional, their dancing excellent: always provocative but never lewd. Larry had seen the trio before but he never tired watching them. As he sipped his gin and tonic he couldn't help noticing the fair-haired young man looking at him intently from the other side of the bar. When he caught his eye the young man smiled. Larry looked away again. He wasn't out to pick up or be picked up.
Tonight, the bartender seemed to be auditioning. Between serving his customers he was dancing on the bar and tucking his tips suggestively down his pants. On one of his gyrations around the bar he deposited another gin and tonic in front of Larry and whispered in his ear:
"Sweetheart, this one's on Joseph," pointing to the fair-haired young man on the other side of the bar, who smiled and lifted his glass in a toast to Larry.
It must have been the numerous gin and tonics, thought Larry as he fumbled to get the key into the lock on the door of his apartment. Joseph had insisted on helping him home after he had slipped off the stool at the bar in Xanadu and dazed himself when he cracked his head against the brass footrail. Now Joseph gently took the key from him and turned it in the lock. Inside Larry groped for the light switch. Again Joseph helped, and as the lights came on he guided Larry over to the couch in the living room and propped him up on it with pillows.
It seemed ages later but Larry imagined he heard the door opening again, imagined he heard voices and thought he must be dreaming. He was sure he wasn't asleep but he knew he wasn't awake either. He dreamed that hands were lifting him up in the air and carrying him. Funny how the mind can make dreams and imaginings seem so real, he thought.
He wanted to scratch the tickle on his nose but his right hand wouldn't move. He tried his left hand and it wouldn't move either. He felt panic, and his struggle, as well as the smelling salts he'd just been administered, awakened him. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see that he was lying on his back on the bed and his wrists and ankles were tied to the bedposts. He was naked.
"Wake up, sweetheart. Are you ready for some fun?" He knew it was Joseph. His eyes focused on the voice and he could see him standing at the foot of the bed. But there were two of him. He must be seeing double. He closed and opened his eyes but the double image didn't go away. There were two of them.
"This is my best friend, dear Larry. He wants to join in. You don't mind, do you? Two's fun but three's an orgy. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"
Larry's panic increased. He could feel his heart thumping loudly in his chest.
"Joseph, please stop. I'm not into bondage and pain. Don't do this. Let me up," he pleaded. But that just aroused chuckles in Joseph and his best friend, who had now emerged from the shadows with a lighted cigarillo between the fingers of his right hand.
"But my best friend here is into bondage and pain in a big way. Especially pain. He just loves to give it, don't you, darling?"
Best friend said nothing. Instead he blew on the end of his cigarillo till it glowed red and then, without any warning, he stuck it into the sole of Sanderson's right foot. Sanderson's body bucked in agony on the bed, but the ties held. He started to scream, but Joseph stuck a facecloth in his mouth and gagged him. Best friend pulled away the cigarillo from Sanderson's foot and his body stopped fighting. Gradually Joseph removed the gag and Larry could smell his own burnt flesh.
"That's just an appetizer, sweetheart. Are you ready for the main course?"
" What do you want from me?" Larry wheezed. His
