... apart from endless policy documents and global emails containing appalling neologisms and misplaced apostrophes.
Ian Rankin's Exit Music. You can rely on Rankin for a tightly-plotted and entertaining tale.
Colin Cotterill's The Coroner's Lunch. I've only just started reading this. So far I've been drawn right in by what may or may not be an accurate representation of life in Communist Laos. But reality doesn't matter. Cotterill's fictional world is entirely plausible. Not enough snails, though.
Carl Zimmer's Soul Made Flesh. A non-fiction work on the origins of neuroscience in the 1600s. So far we've dealt with Descartes and have just finished with Paracelsus who 'spent the last thirteen years of his life wandering, stopping in cities in Bavaria and Bohemia only long enough to alienate the authorities.'
I'll report back.
