This explosive first novel from a reformed career criminal comes with authenticity stamped throughout and blows all the other so-called crime books out of the water. 'The Essex Boys!' Don't make Horace laugh. Sounds like one of them knock-off Chippendale striptease acts that performs in working mens clubs and bingo halls. Some Muscle-Marys drive to a supposed drug meet on an unlit country road and get their nuts blown off. Duh! JUDAS PIG is the real deal, written by someone who lived the life, not the lie. This is a man who has had a contract hanging over him for twenty years and ain't dead yet. By contrast his enemies seem cursed. One has not long ago been publicly humilated having lost a multi-million pound lawsuit and now faces financial ruin. The same man's former solicitor was also struck off by The Law Society. Also, two men hired to kill the author are both dead. One by 'natural causes' while another was shot dead outside a pub in east London. Meanwhile, a third man, a treacherous little toerag by the name of Gary 'Tichy' Oxley, will probably die in prison after being sentenced to life for the gangland murder of Joey Oliffe in 2009. The author awaits with expectant anticipation to see what tragedy or misfortune befalls the remaining bottom-feeding scavangers feasting on the leftovers in this sordid swamp. And unlike other supposed gangsters, you won't ever catch Horace Silver standing on nightclub doors in a penguin suit, or following criminals around with his tongue hanging out, and a bulge in his trousers. Fact: Having your picture taken with gangsters don't make you a gangster. If it did then surely Barbara Windsor would be the most feared woman in London!