The Folksinger 2013 - Scantlebury, Mike
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Vlad Hugg is a popular new singer, young, dashing romantic, with a nice line in deprecating chat and a handsome, weather burned face. He has been travelling, he says, out 'on the road', seeing life and the world, writing about it and singing about it. He is an egrossing hero. So who wants him dead? Melia's cousin, Liv, writing his authorised biography, is equally baffled by the gaps in his story and worried by the threats on his life. But that's not all: there's also the rumours about the young man, the allegations that he caused - either directly or indirectly - the deaths of about a dozen…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Vlad Hugg is a popular new singer, young, dashing romantic, with a nice line in deprecating chat and a handsome, weather burned face. He has been travelling, he says, out 'on the road', seeing life and the world, writing about it and singing about it. He is an egrossing hero. So who wants him dead? Melia's cousin, Liv, writing his authorised biography, is equally baffled by the gaps in his story and worried by the threats on his life. But that's not all: there's also the rumours about the young man, the allegations that he caused - either directly or indirectly - the deaths of about a dozen people. How is that even possible? He comes from Swinton, for goodness sake, a small, dowdy suburb in Salford, the old, run-down centre of the North West of England. He's a slightly boring, nondescript youth from a predictable background: how could anyone think the stories are true? Melia, of course, has her own reasons for trying to delve in and find the truth. Her boss, and British Security, thinks Vlad Hugg is a spy!
Autorenporträt
Mickey is from Manchester, and he's a Tough Guy. My name is Mike Scantlebury and I'm the author. I'm not a tough guy, I'm more like an opal, small and perfectly formed. But - more bad news, and worse than that - I'm from Bristol, which is a small, historic port in South West England. It's only claim to fame is that people sailed from there in the 15th century and discovered America. Oh, yeah, well, that is quite a Big Thing, isn't it? But that's the deceptive part of the whole story. I live in Salford now, across the river from the big Northern city of Manchester. My 'Manchester' is not like anyone else's, and if you think you know Manchester - maybe from reading other books set there, or seeing the place on films or on television - I need you to know that. Things aren't always what they seem, are they? Luckily, Manchester has Mickey, which means, fortunately for them, that whenever something bad happens, (and it does, regularly), they've got someone who is going to come in, do The Right Thing, and clear up the mess. Not every town can say that now, can they?