First Rays

If you like to see smart-arse journalists dig ever-deeper holes for themselves to the point where they're held in public ridicule, you'll adore First Rays. If you like to see how they might redeem themselves and become much-loved newshounds again, you'll adore it even more. That's not to mention other quirks to Ray Dunn and his story. HIs job writing a column, First Rays, for the Daily, about "what goes on downtown from predawn to gridlock" in Sydney's in-city waterside precinct of Darling Harbour. His deadly pet. His near magical rapport with animals, and particularly with a police bomb dog names Smuts. His pledge to his tough Gran to stay off drugs as a condition of her much-needed loan. And perhaps the most endearing of all: his being more body shy than a Trappist nun. An hilarious paradox for a "Casanova-in-his-own-mind." But in the end, whatever his foibles, you'll be fascinated to learn if he can handle a conspiracy only he believes exists; --by jihardists hell-bent on blowing up a cruise ship docked in "his town."