Well, it was inevitable. After several bestselling self-help releases, we got the first fiction title from SAS big man – or should I say, former SAS big man, that whole thing seemed like “bollocks” that to me, but let’s not go there – Ant Middleton.
Features protagonist Mallory, who bears a striking resemblance to the author (write what you know, right?), which I suppose makes him easy to visualise. Basically Mallory is recruited to find a guy, which he finds alarmingly and unbelievably easy in South Africa with very little to go on, gets into a bunch of altercations and ultimately, I can’t even remember this book was that blah.
“A thriller so real it hurts”? Yes, it hurt my resolve to read. I even tried to read the sequel, Red Mist, but tapped put around page 40.
Sorry, Ant. You non-fiction is better. But even then I won’t do another one of them.
Don’t recommend. 👎🏻