I’ve finished reading Gunshot Road and I was left breathless. Whoa !!! Still under the impression, I’m wordless. As an appetizer I found this page in the Internet, The Story of my Book: Adrian Hyland on Gunshot Road by Adrian Hyland, were you can find this brief excerpt that I would like to share with you.
‘Emily Tempest, having just taken on a job as an Aboriginal Community Police Officer, is investigating a death at a roadhouse. Her sergeant sends her in to get some food.
I stepped out, once more, into the blasting heat. Jesus, what a day: I felt like a pig on a spit. If a heat-seeking missile were to arrive on the scene it wouldn’t have known where to start.
I walked around the side of the pub, past the toilets, the delightful melody of 150-proof piss crashing into a urinal.
I stepped in the front door. Polished wood, whirling fans. Shafts of green-gold light streamed among bottles and mirrors.
The bloke behind the bar—Sandy, I assumed—wasn’t quite as polished: still youngish, but with an air of general disintegration. He had a DIY haircut and the fiery complexion of your everyday outback alcoholic.
He spotted me, and his eyes flicked at the dog-box window by the bar. A lot of these places still kept one for the blacks. His mouth started to move.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ I warned him.
He suspended his instincts for long enough to look at me properly, changed tack.
‘What would you like?’
‘Some respect. And while you’re working on that, five steaks. I’m with the police’
He went to the kitchen window and said something to a steamy man in a once- white singlet whose appearance brought to mind my father’s advice regarding roadhouse cuisine: always check for body parts.’
Tomorrow more, stay tune.