Somewhere in the region of Stuart MacBride and Stuart Neville, Tony Black's grim Scottish crime noir seems to have flashes of bitter humour, but a little too much in the way of unlikeable bastards being unspeakably violent to other unlikeable bastards. This novel - essentially the story of a grizzled Edinburgh ex-hack taking revenge on those who killed his brother - mainly worked and was mainly an absorbing read, but sometimes just went too far into the realms of silliness. With hindsight it was slightly formulaic and all a bit simplistic in a 'swear, fight, regret, struggle with demons, dead body, swear, fight.. lather rinse repeat' manner, but I may read Tony Black again - potentially only to confirm he sits a little way down my list of favourite Scottish crime authors.