The Creek
Swollen from a freak wet-season rain. Deep enough to drown a helpless man and make it look like bad luck. It did the job twice.

Book One · A Darren Parsons Mystery
A station worker drowned in a creek. The force called it an accident. Detective Darren Parsons doesn't buy it.
The Story
Julien Guyllemont came to Australia to pick fruit and see the reef. He was pulled out of a flooded creek on a cattle station up past the Tablelands, a French backpacker a long way from Toulouse. The station manager wanted it closed by lunchtime. Mustering season. Cattle to move. Just another poor bugger who couldn't swim.
Detective Darren Parsons has heard that song before. He's a Mossman boy stuck in Cairns — gay, Blak, first copper in his family, and about as welcome in the Far North District CIB as a snake in a swag. When the forensics come back saying Julien was alive when he went under the water, the accident starts to smell like something else entirely.
Then a woman on the station lets something slip: the bloke before Julien drowned in the same creek, two years back. He went out to the western side of the property — the part that's off-limits, the part where the dingoes are supposed to be — and a week later he was dead. Two drownings. One creek. A cold case nobody could be bothered looking at.
What Darren finds out there will put him at odds with his own force, an old-money grazier in Townsville, and a network of crims that runs a lot further than one flooded paddock. He's on someone else's Country now, and the only thing he can trust is what the land itself is telling him.
The Detective
"That was never a law, mate. That's just what people like you tell themselves."
Darren Parsons is unlike anyone Australian crime fiction has met before. Late twenties, sharp as a tack, and quietly furious at a system that lets him in the door but never lets him forget where he stands. His mum runs the local intelligence network out of the Mossman bowls club. His baby brother's been hassled by the same uniform Darren wears. His knowledge of Country — what the animals do, where they go, why — comes not from mysticism but from a grandfather who taught him to pay attention.
His identity makes the investigation harder. It's never the point. The crime is the point. But you can't understand how he cracks this one without understanding exactly who's doing the looking.
The creek knows what happened. Even if the coroner doesn't.
The Country
The landscape does the emotional work — the Daintree, the Tablelands, the flooded creek. Every kilometre inland is a kilometre further from home.
Swollen from a freak wet-season rain. Deep enough to drown a helpless man and make it look like bad luck. It did the job twice.
Old-money cattle country up on the Tablelands. Dry, white, and remote. A place where deaths get filed as occupational hazards — and the western side is off-limits to everyone.
An hour and a half of Captain Cook Highway between the institution and Country. Borderline Beach is the threshold — cross it and Darren is either returning to himself or leaving himself behind.
The big city, to a Mossman boy. Where the career is, where the politics are, where the racism and the homophobia are institutional rather than personal. Exile with a lagoon.
Home. Caroline and Bernie on the porch, the tide coming in, washing at Mum's. The anchor Darren drives north to whenever the job lets him.
They don't come onto cleared pastoral land unless something's driving them there. Darren knows the story's wrong before he can prove it. The restricted area is the evidence.
Advance Praise
Biting, funny and dry as a dust road. Parsons is the most original detective in Australian crime fiction in a decade — and the Country he walks is a character in its own right.— Advance Reader
Harper gave us the drought. Hammer gave us the town. Haddad gives us the hinterland — and a protagonist whose identity is structural, never decorative.— Advance Reader
The crime is the story. Darren's identity just makes it harder. That's the difference between a lecture and a bloody good book.— Advance Reader
Tropical noir with a beating heart. The flooded creek, the cane fire dusk, the powder-blue Falcon with the door that won't open — it all stays with you.— Advance Reader
Coming Soon
Pre-orders open soon. Leave your email and we'll tell you the moment The Hinterland lands — plus the opening chapter, early.