An Evil Love - The Life And Crimes Of Fred West
Publisher: John Blake
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 9781789466171
“An Evil Love” is the sort of title that makes you put the kettle on before you dare turn the first page. Geoffrey Wansell—cool-handed tour guide to Britain’s darker corners—takes you through the life and crimes of Fred West with the calm of a museum curator and the accuracy of a court stenographer, while your inner voice whispers: “Perhaps I should have stuck to cosy village mysteries.” First published in 2022 by John Blake, this isn’t a gore-fest; it’s a clear-eyed, quietly chilling anatomy of how ordinary façades can hide extraordinary horrors, written with Wansell’s signature blend of restraint and razor detail. It’s the true-crime equivalent of a cold draft under a locked door: you’re certain everything’s shut, and yet.
In these pages you’ll find the biographies behind the headlines—class, control, complicity, and the fatal chemistry of a couple who turned love into a weapon. Wansell traces the long fuse rather than just the explosion: the family histories, the small compromises, the big lies, and the way a house can become a story you can’t bear to live in. He asks the questions that matter (how, why, who looked away) and then—irritatingly, usefully—makes you ask them of yourself.
This copy, ISBN 9781789466171, comes to you in Very Good condition, which in the lexicon of seasoned book people means: pages ready to turn, spine prepared for a reread, no melodramatic coffee catastrophes—just a well-behaved volume with stories to tell. It’s exactly the right state for true crime: tidy enough to shelve, unsettling enough to discuss.
Proudly offered by Crappy Old Books, the least pretentious purveyor of profoundly serious reading. Our philosophy is simple: immaculate taste, shameless branding. You bring the curiosity; we’ll bring the paper and ink. Add it to your library of “I’ll just read one chapter” catastrophes and discover why Wansell remains the grown-up in the true-crime room—measured, meticulous, and morbidly necessary.
File it under: Domestic Noir, British History’s Bad Ideas, and “I’ll sleep with the light on, thanks.” Read responsibly. And maybe keep that kettle warm.
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