Husband - Father - Author
Parker Barrington
I’m originally from the UK but now live in Denmark with my wonderful family. I grew up listening to the stories my dad used to tell; funny, spooky, or just downright strange and I’ve loved storytelling ever since. I enjoy all kinds of fiction, from the lighthearted to the dark and unsettling, and I’m always drawn to characters who feel real, flaws and all.The idea for my novel Guardian Angel came to me while I was stuck in bed with the flu (proof that good things can come from bad days). I write late at night when the house is quiet and everyone’s asleep...that’s when the stories come alive. This is my first novel, and the beginning of a trilogy I’m incredibly excited to share.
The Bath Novel Award
Judges Comments
Guardian Angel is exactly the kind of crime novel I love, with atmospheric landscapes and intimate character portraits, all capped with a truly startling twist. I was completely drawn in
by the polyphonic nature of the narrative, weaving in perspectives from all walks of life in a small Pennsylvanian town, creating not just a pacy crime novel, but also a rich and layered
portrait of a community and the conflicts that lie beneath the surface. – Laura Williams
Readers Comments
From almost 3,000 entries, Guardian Angel was a frontrunner from the start. At the extract/synopsis stage, it scored highly in the regular votes and even received a coveted golden vote:“The observational and detail-oriented nature of the writing was fantastic. It established a sense of place, situation and time immediately. I really enjoyed the interview narrative style at the start. Golden Yes.”
Overall, Guardian Angel gripped readers from the first page. Suspenseful, immersive, and emotionally resonant, its layered plotting, strong sense of place, and standout protagonist make it a memorable and exceptional submission. Readers loved the writing and premise and would eagerly follow Jo into future instalments. It’s clear that this is the work of a highly skilled writer with strong control over both story and style, and with incredibly exciting potential.
Debut Novel
Guardian Angel
In the shadowed valleys of rural Pennsylvania, where secrets run as deep as the old reservoirs, Detective Johanna “Jo” Bennet returns to the hometown she left behind. With a sharp mind, a buried past, and a relentless drive for truth, Jo soon finds that the quiet surface of Heimstadt hides something far more dangerous beneath. Guardian Angel is a haunting mystery crime novel about memory, obsession, and the darkness that lingers when justice is left undone.
My Story
I’ve always been a story person. Maybe that started when my parents moved us onto a sailboat when I was eighteen months old and pointed the bow at the horizon. My playground was the deck, salt on my skin, wind in the rigging, maps taped to the table. We dropped anchor off empty tropical beaches, drifted along the coffee-coloured Amazon, learned the difference between catching a fish and catching snakes, and for a while we even had a pet monkey who stole fruit and the spotlight. Growing up felt like living inside a storybook, and my imagination never quite learned to stay put.Years later, before social media, my (future) wife and I lived in different countries and emailed every day. I didn’t think “went to work, did the dishes” would make riveting reading, so I wrote her little made-up tales instead. She kept them all. Fast-forward to three wonderful kids: bedtime became a game where they’d shout three random things, “pirate, time travel, magic!” and I’d spin a new story in the dark.I have drafted many novels over the years, but never finished one, until the flu pinned me to bed and I decided now was the time. I asked my subconscious (or the universe) which book to write first. The answer came quickly. Although Guardian Angel wandered far from the original spark, that is exactly the magic I love: stories that surprise you.These days I write every night, often in the living room, feet up in front of me and a pile of ideas waiting their turn. I’m grateful for a life that has filled my head with imagination and possibilities, and for the chance to keep turning all that into stories.
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Chapter One
The knife sliced cleanly through the tomato, its skin splitting with a soft pop. A bead of juice pooled on the wooden cutting board, slow, viscous. Jo wiped the blade against the damp cloth draped over the sink, then set it down next to the half-dressed sandwich. She wasn’t hungry.The kitchen was quiet except for the occasional rustling outside, the restless cluck of her hens, the wind shifting through the garden. The scent of damp earth filtered in through the open window, fresh from last night’s rain. Somewhere in the distance, a truck rumbled down the road, its tires kicking up loose gravel.Jo sat at the small kitchen table, her fingers resting lightly on its surface. The wood was smooth and worn, the same way her father had kept their old dining table, free of clutter, of sentimentality. A single book lay beside her, Die Bibel, Martin Luther’s translation, its black leather spine cracked with time. She didn’t read it much, but she liked knowing it was there.The phone sat at the edge of the table, dark and silent. She inhaled slowly, pressing her fingertips against the back of her neck. The call would come. It wasn’t a matter of if, only when. Chief Hardey wasn’t the type to leave people waiting longer than necessary.She had no doubt he’d offer her the job. Detective, Heimstadt Borough Police Department. She was overqualified. She knew it, he knew it. The kind of education she had, Criminology, Social Data Analytics, top of her class at Penn State, could have taken her anywhere. D.C., Chicago, New York.But she’d applied in Heimstadt. The thought was a weight she didn’t name, heavy in her chest.The phone rang.Jo didn’t startle. She reached for it, her grip firm, thumb brushing the smooth plastic before pressing the button.“Bennett.”“Jo,” Hardey’s voice came through, warm, steady. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”She glanced at the half-made sandwich. “No.”She could hear the low murmur of voices behind him, the faint hum of an office.“Well,” Hardey continued, “I won’t drag it out. We’d be lucky to have you in Heimstadt. The job’s yours if you want it.”She let the words settle in the space between them. Her reflection stared back at her from the window, sharp eyes, sharp angles, a face that had long since learned to give nothing away.“When do you need me?”Hardey chuckled. “I figured you’d skip the pleasantries.”She stayed silent.“Yeah, well. Official start date is in two weeks, but I’d like you here sooner if you can swing it. We’ve got a couple of cases I’d like you to start getting familiar with.”Two weeks. Less, if she wanted. The weight pressed heavier now.“All right,” she said.“You sure about this?” Hardey asked, voice quieter now. Not soft, not hesitant, just aware. He was a good cop, a good man. He didn’t ask questions he didn’t already have a sense of the answer to.Jo’s grip on the phone tightened.“I’ll see you soon,” she said, and hung up.She sat there for a long moment, the quiet settling back in around her. Outside, the wind picked up, rustling the leaves. The chickens murmured in their coop. Jo reached for the sandwich, then changed her mind. Instead, she stood, crossed the kitchen and stared at the note on the bench. HEIMSTADT is all it said.She folded it, placing it in the box with the others, and stared out the window. Dark clouds were gathering on the horizon.