Every crime reader knows the thrill of being led astray. You’re convinced you’ve spotted the smoking gun, only to find out it was nothing but smoke. That’s the art of the red herring—a deliberate distraction planted by clever authors to keep you second-guessing until the very last chapter. In Mortice: Double Tap, A.J. Wilton serves up his own version of these narrative tricks, twisting expectations until you’re forced to wonder: who’s playing who?

In the real world, modern interrogation leans more on psychology than broken knuckles. But in Mort’s world? Let’s just say he understands the science… he just doesn’t always mind bending the rules if the stakes are high enough.

Byron Bay. A coastal Eden where backpackers dream, celebrities hide, and locals swear by kombucha like it’s holy water. But look a little closer and the dreamscape cracks: missing women, unsolved deaths, and whispers of a serial killer the police say doesn’t exist.

In A.J. Wilton’s Mortice series, everything comes at a cost. Mort doesn’t get to play hero without facing the hangover. The world remembers. The consequences are real. Why? Because Wilton taps into some of the oldest, smartest literary tricks in the book—then spins them like a knife on a café table.

Welcome to the gritty world of Mortice — where bullets fly faster than government red tape, villains are nastier than a two-dollar servo pie, and justice is served with a side of revenge (and maybe a broken rib or two).

In Mort 5: Double Tap, AJ Wilton doesn’t just give us a nail-biting, emotionally charged investigation, he roots it in real places. No hazy “Somewhere in Queensland” business here. From suburban Brisbane to beachside cafés, you’ll recognise the streets, venues, and vibes,  right down to the brand of beer and layout of the stairwell.

If you’ve ever stayed at the JW Marriott Gold Coast Resort and Spa, chances are your biggest concern was whether to hit the swim-up bar or book a massage. But in Mort 5: Double Tap, this five-star paradise gets a fictional makeover—as the backdrop for a high-stakes child abduction and private investigation that puts every guest under the microscope.

Pull on your tactical boots and strap in — we’re taking a deep dive into two of the world’s most elite, covert, and downright legendary special forces: the Australian SAS Regiment and its British OG, the SAS (Special Air Service). Same initials, shared motto, but two distinctly badass units with different flavors of grit, guts, and glory.

There are puns. There are double entendres.
And then there’s the literary equivalent of a sniper’s headshot: the triple entendre. It’s rare. It’s risky. And in Mortice: Double Tap, it’s weaponised like a silenced pistol on a foggy rooftop—clean, clever, and quietly devastating.

Let’s break it down. Or better yet, let’s load the chamber.

“When you’re breathing through a tube and sticking to submarines ships with suction cups, mate—you’re no longer on holiday,” Mort might quip. For military divers and their robotic sidekicks, these gadgets are lifesavers… and occasionally, plot drivers. Let’s dive in.

“Someone’s leaking secrets in the Reef,” Mort might say. And justice, like oil, tends to rise to the surface—eventually.

Pollution. Pandemics. Predators. Why the “Love Boat” brand is anything but romantic.

From the Gold Coast JW Marriott to dodgy deals in Brisbane backstreets, Mortice: Double Tap isn’t just a pulse-pounding thriller — it’s packed tighter than a meat pie at the footy with Aussie slang. Mort’s sharp tongue and his crew’s quick banter give this high-stakes drama a laugh-out-loud local twist.

Airport security here isn’t just tight. It’s TV-worthy. Literally. Between the high-vis vests, drug dogs, and dramatic takedowns, Aussie border control is a full-blown cultural phenomenon—and a real-world reminder that justice doesn’t always wear a cape. Sometimes it wears tactical boots and carries a clipboard.

Since Paul Hogan swaggered onto the screen in 1986 as Crocodile Dundee, the Aussie hero archetype has evolved—but one thing has stayed the same: we still love a bloke who doesn’t say much, does the job, and looks like he could drop you with one punch... but won’t (unless you really deserve it).

There’s something about the thrill of finding an Easter egg — whether you’re rifling through the garden hunting for chocolate or digging into a book or movie and uncovering a hidden gem the creators slipped in just for the sharp-eyed.

If there’s one thing Aussies love more than a Friday arvo beer, it’s a bloke who breaks the rules — but only the dumb ones. The type who knows the difference between right and wrong but chooses ‘whatever works’ instead.

In Mort’s world, you can’t swing a cat without hitting some bloke on the take — but that’s not just fiction, sweetheart. Real-life Aussie law enforcement has had its fair share of badges with their hands in the till and their morals in the gutter.

When the bullets start flying and the bodies hit the floor, you’ve got two choices — freeze like a possum in a spotlight or channel your inner Pig and figure out how to get out in one piece, even if you leave a few parts behind.

Breaking the fourth wall in crime thrillers is a masterstroke. It’s when the narrative goes rogue, pulling the reader into the action, and for a split second, you wonder whether the protagonist’s next move is aimed at solving the crime—or at solving you.