Wow. Just got done reading this trip of a novel. I fancied a quick and modern read, but got a lot more than I bargained for with Last Seen in Bangkok. The beauty of this book is that it is written by a lad who's spent some proper time in Thailand, knows the Bangkok scene like the back of his hand, and has brains enough to engineer that experience into a cracking story. The contrasts between grey Bolton/Manchester and lovely turquoise Thailand are deliberately jarring, and the humour inherent in the slang, culture, and fashions of both nations meld into a streetwise romp that you never want to end (I was counting the remaining pages with increasing sadness).
There's dozens of books out there set in working class drug and football culture, and almost every one is loaded with cliches you've heard a million times before. Most authors who attempt this are either too naive to know what they're on about, or else too mired in depravity to be an intellectual and therefore a real writer. Lavin is a real writer, and he has obviously been up to his waist in the stimulant and sex industry both in the UK and the Far East. His constant mastery of word play reminds you why cliches actually emerge in the first place, and the plot twists always seem to catch you unawares. The major miracle for me was how, after a marathon football casual, drug-traveller-rave prostitute extravaganza, I still felt a physical catch in my throat when the story caught up with the protagonist in the end. These are real people with real feelings, but are caught up in life's savage dynamic. Buy this and prepare to be moved, in several directions, a very long way. Excellent.