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Bea lives in Elbow, where it rains all summer. Most people leave to go somewhere sunny, but there are always a few kids left behind.

Already bored on the second day of the holidays, her friend Sam turns up at her house and drags her through the rain to see a discovery he’s made in a creepy derelict house – a dead man.

A mystery unfolds in front of their eyes and, with her gang of misfit friends, Bea must uncover the clues to find the answers. But they’re being watched and the more they discover, the more dangerous it becomes. 

Reviews:

...A fantastic oddball story. I'd recommend it to any child from ten upwards with a thirst for adventure and a love for all things weird and wonderful. WATERSTONE'S BOOKS QUARTERLY

...spine-chilling...intensely visual... BOOKS FOR KEEPS

...Written with obvious relish and a distinctive individual voice, The Pickle King is an unusual blend of genuine humour and horror, with more than a dash of the truly disgusting. (Yes, it's offal in places!) I'm eager to see what Rebecca Promitzer serves up next. PHILIP ARDAGH

...This is a fast-paced, entertaining debut with well-drawn characters from Rebecca Promitzer, who looks like an author to watch. THE OBSERVER

...A hugely entertaining adventure story tinged with enough horror to delight but not really to terrify … A tremendous debut. JULIA ECCLESHARE.

'It’s down here!' yelled Sam.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what 'it' was. A part of me already felt sick but another part of me – the curious part – the part that always gets me into tricky situations – wanted to find out.

Sam was standing in what must have once been a nice spacious lounge, shining his flashlight through a big hole in the floorboards. At first I couldn’t make out very much. There was a lot of stinky water down there, like a dark indoor pool, with household objects floating about.

Then I saw a boot and then another foot, which had no boot.

The bootless leg was twisted around. I remember thinking how white that foot looked against the black-green water it was sticking out of.

'We shouldn’t be here.' I said, a little more quietly than I meant to. 

'Look at his face! His neck must be twisted,' yelled Sam and before I could look away, the yellow beam of his flashlight found the angular shape of the side of the man’s face. It seemed like time slowed right down at that moment.

Even when I’m doing other things now, I can see that face. His mouth was wide open, like he was drinking in the dirty water, as though he couldn’t get enough of it, and one of his eyes was looking up at me. It was dark but had a kind of milky-blue glaze over it, like a fish eye when it’s cooked.

'He’s dead!' shouted Sam- breaking my thoughts. I was suddenly aware of myself, a small figure in that creepy house I wasn’t meant to be in. I wanted to say something but couldn’t speak. 'A real dead body!'