A breathtaking, pacy, thrilling adventure.
“Mesmeric” Literary Review
The Russian Revolution is breaking out around him, but Charlie Doig has a private war to fight. He is determined to track down and kill Prokhor Glebov, the Bolshevik who raped and tortured his wife, Elizaveta. Convinced that Glebov will sooner or later turn up at Lenin’s side, he and Kobi, his Mongolian henchman, make their way to St. Petersburg. There, amidst the chaos of the Revolution, they discover that Glebov has been put in charge of the political re-education of the Tsar and his family. The chase begins…
Having captured an armoured train, Charlie fights his way to Siberia with a motley army of recruits and a breathtaking adventure unfolds. With rumours of the Tsar’s gold reserves nearby, Charlie resolves once he has revenged Elizaveta to attempt to seize a barge of gold from under the watchful eyes of four different armies.
“A class act…a brilliant, pacy storyteller with a muscular prose style” Mail on Sunday
“Set during the Russian revolution and its bloody aftermath, this is as much tongue-in-cheek historical romp as page-turning cliffhanger....If writers can be divided into minimalists and maximalists, then Fleming is out there on the militant wing of the maximalists..... relentless energy and garrulous black humour ....Cold Blood has an original and talented voice behind”
Adam Lively, The Sunday Times
“James Fleming, nephew of Ian is a class act: a brilliant, pacy storyteller with a muscular prose style”
Max Davidson, Mail on Sunday
“Extraordinary use of plot and pace and language...this is a thriller, no bones about it. For anyone who feels that there aren't enough armoured trains in today's popular fiction, or enough murderous White Russians with God and destiny on their side - and I am one - this book is a must”
Giles Whittell, The Times
“This bitterly gruesome novel...Doig's ultra-masculine, semi-brain-rotted character will surely exercise a mesmeric power over most readers...James Fleming's text sings with finely tuned nature notes”
Andrew Barrow, Literary Review