11 March 2024

The Book of Souls


By James Oswald


Edinburgh, Scotland. Every Christmas for ten years a young woman has been found murdered. The final victim was Detective Constable Tony McLean's fiancée. But the Christmas Killer made a mistake which led to his capture and imprisonment. Fast forward twelve years and the Christmas Killer is dead. But when a body turns up during the festive season with striking similarities to the earlier murders, McLean is convinced a copycat killer is at work. Others begin to wonder if an innocent man was convicted. . . 

The second book in the Inspector McLean series by James Oswald proved to be just as gripping as the first. With gritty and realistic characters, I really enjoyed their camaraderie and banter. The intricate plot was fast-paced with plenty of twists and turns. As with the first book I loved the supernatural element — it wasn't so over the top as to be unbelievable but you get the feeling the author wants the reader to draw their own conclusions. I thought it was a great read and I'm looking forward to the next in the series.                        


  • Paperback: 442 pages
  • Publisher: Penguin 
  • Publication Year: 2012
  • Author: James Oswald
  • Genre: Crime


Every year for ten years, a young woman's body was found in Edinburgh at Christmas time: naked, throat slit, body washed clean.

Ten years, ten women.

The final victim, Kirsty Summers, was Detective Constable Tony McLean's fiancée. But the Christmas Killer made a mistake. In a cellar under a shop, McLean found a torture chamber and put an end to the brutal killing spree.

Twelve years later, and a fellow prisoner has just murdered the incarcerated Christmas Killer. But with the arrival of the festive season comes a body. A young woman: naked, washed, her throat cut.

Is this a copycat killer?

Was the wrong man behind bars all this time?

Or is there a more sinister, frightening explanation?

McLean must revisit the most disturbing case of his life and discover what he missed before the killer strikes again . . .

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