This is a candid, harrowing and often hilarious memoir. Crissy has been through some of the most shocking experiences imaginable, she has shown herself to have resilience beyond belief. What really shines through from every page, though, is Crissy's indomitable, wicked sense of humour. By turns harrowing and laugh-out-loud funny.
The trussed up body of a priest is discovered in a fashionable apartment block in Manhattan. It looks like a sex act gone wrong and of course the Catholic Church is only too keen to cover up the details. What they don't know is that it's the work of a female serial killer who is convinced that the voices urging her on are from a different era. The killer targets the clergymen, acting out the exact methods of torture used on the accused women from centuries gone by. She wants to terrorise the Catholic Church the way it terrorised Europe for over three hundred years. Cardinal Barberini is the right hand man to the Pope and he knows only too well that the Papa's life is in danger. But he does not need a retired policeman and a third rate journalist to tell him that, nor does he need them to interfere. He has a very capable death squad on the trail of the killer and they are getting closer. Now he may need to deploy a second team to deal with the odd couple who know far too much about the church past and present...
Rather than focusing on the tragic events of her upbringing, Crissy uses this evocative, characterful book to paint a vivid picture of what it was to grow up working-class Liverpool in the sixties and seventies. From the docks to the Cavern Club, this is a fond glimpse into the heartbeat of the North West, in a time where community, hard work and family mattered most.