Greg Summers has it pretty well sorted out. Sure, he’s cheating on his wife Jennifer, headed for a sumptuous dinner with his mistress – to be capped by a night of lurid sex in a hotel room. But he’s rationalised it all away, so there’s no harm done.

The only minor wrinkle is that the hotel seems to have lost his booking and his payment, but he can sort that out in the morning, right?

Only it turns out there’s no record of his booking the room at all. And his phone? His phone is not the one he thought he left home with that morning… It belongs to a Richard Jameson. Is Jennifer cheating on him, too? Enraged, he heads home to confront her, only to find her with another man, claiming she’s never seen him before.

Greg is catapulted into a nightmarish scenario where the deck is stacked against him. Who is Richard Jameson? Why has Greg’s past been wiped neatly from the world? And who is behind it all?

In my teens and early twenties, I really enjoyed Dean Koontz’s storytelling. The only part that consistently let me down was the writing, which I often found slightly grating. There just wasn’t always the fluency and fluidity I expect from an established author. Richard Wright has matched – and perhaps exceeded – this storytelling ability, whilst also bringing it to the degree of maturity I was always looking for with accessible, well-edited writing that enhances the story and enables the reader to dive in and not come up for air.

What’s more; Wright has the rare knack for getting you invested in a character you don’t actually like – right from the start, you’re aware that Greg Summers isn’t a great person. He’s cheating on his wife, for a start. And yet you’re never tempted to just put the book down and leave him to it; his story grabs you and won’t let you go. Even when he does things that would, by rights, be an offence worthy of a punch to the face, you’re willing to keep on reading because of the compelling way the story is crafted.

I started telling people Cuckoo was well worth picking up before I’d finished it. Now I’ve turned the last page, I’m telling you. If you fancy a look at the world in a funhouse mirror – and I’m pretty sure you do – then this is the way to get it.

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