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Award-Winning Noir Fiction Author Janet Roger

 Author of the Best Crime Thriller and Story Books



Shamus Dust
Beverly Hills Book Awards Winner
"If you love your film noir, your detective fiction in the style of Chandler or Hammett, then you should be all over this. Janet writes as if standing in the shadows, a cigarette hanging from her lips, the collar popped on her raincoat. An absolute must read."     
Phil Clarke, Philmscribe
NIEA Finalist
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Shamus Dust is classic literary noir at its finest. A beautifully rendered and intriguing post-war mystery. 

BRUCE ROBERT COFFIN Author, Detective Byron Mysteries

Prose so smooth, so sweet, so swinging it will dance you straight back to the 1940s ... A wonderful, wonderful book. 

JAKE NEEDHAM Author, Mean Streets Crime Novels

Roger can write like a dirty, noir dream that thrashes in the small hours with  enough action and drama to keep the blood pumping. A superb debut. 

CHRIS NICKSON Author, Creme de la Crime

Shamus Dust is a noir homage that reminds us the blackouts may have ended but the city’s darkness lingered on; it’s an evocative, haunting debut. 

CHRISTOPHER FOWLER Penguin Author, Bryant & May Series

The reader feels the chill of a winter in London as the chill of murder and danger. The book gets my highest recommendation. 


Shamus Dust | Front, back and between the covers


Two candles flaring at a Christmas crib. A nurse who steps inside a church to light them. A gunshot emptied in a man’s head in the creaking stillness before dawn, that the nurse says she didn’t hear. It’s 1947 in the snowbound, war-scarred City of London, where Pandora’s Box just got opened in the ruins, City Police has a vice killing on its hands, and a spooked councilor hires a shamus to help spare his blushes. Like the Buddha says, everything is connected. So it all can be explained. But that’s a little cryptic when you happen to be the shamus, and you’re standing over a corpse.


This is great - it's elegant and spare but still cloaks itself in a terrific atmosphere. I liked the backstreet whores and the tipster barbers; the gold-leaf dining rooms and the tenement bedrooms. For me, it rang of Chandler - a grey-skied, British Big Sleep. 

Atlantic Books

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