Another one borrowed from my mum, this time when I was up to visit last weekend. Being light-weight it jumped the queue over the over half dozen books I borrowed in November. This is the third in the Inspector Rebus novels, and I've definitely decided it's a series I can live with and enjoy, though I'm still amused at my mum lending me stories about serial killers when she's trying to get me to read "nice" things as an antidote to being fed up. Despite the messy killings I have to admit this sort of thing does make a pretty good way of perking oneself up. I guess I just like detective stories, which is why I've got into CSI and Law and Order on the telly lately. Maybe some day I'll read some Inspector Morse, since I know the streets of Oxford better than I do Edinburgh, or in this case London. Anyway despite the change of scene, this one had just the right mix of murders, mystery, family trouble, irritating colleagues, nice chaps and a little bit of romance. Good stuff.