Hello, Book Dragons! Today I would like to welcome you all to my stop of the Blog Tour for Bitter Flowers By Gunnar Staalesen and I would like to share an extract from the book, with all of you. Thank you very much to Anne from Random Things Tours for the invitation. Please do show some love to all the wonderful book bloggers on this blog tour by following and sharing their work. 🙂
Publisher: Orenda Books
Release date: 20 01 2022
Price*: Kindle £3.79 (GBP)/ Paperback £8.99 (GBP)
Kindle $6.15 (USD)/ Paperback $15.95 (USD)
Pages: ~ 276
You can get this book here:
Description of the book: PI Varg Veum has returned to duty following a stint in rehab, but his new composure and resolution are soon threatened when a challenging assignment arrives on his desk.
A man is found dead in an elite swimming pool and a young woman has gone missing. Most chillingly, Varg Veum is asked to investigate the ‘Camilla Case’: an eight-year-old cold case involving the disappearance of a little girl, who was never found.
As the threads of these apparently unrelated crimes come together, against the backdrop of a series of shocking environmental crimes, Varg Veum faces the most challenging, traumatic investigation of his career.
Extract from the book:
It was darker now, and the scent of jasmine stronger. If you can describe as darkness the gentle dimming of light that is the Nordic summer night. And if you can call it a scent when it rolls over you like the wave of the century.
Up by the Straumeveien turning there was a flash of blue light. I stood by the gate to show them where to go.
They came in two vehicles, a patrol car and a white civilian BMW. Four police officers jumped out of the patrol car, while Hamre and Isachsen got out of the BMW. When Hamre caught sight of me, an expression of acute distaste crossed his face. Isachsen gave a wan smile, one of those you are sent for free because no one else wants it.
Hamre came over to me, nodded dutifully and looked past me, up towards the house. ‘Was it you who rang, Veum?’
‘No. It must’ve been Lisbeth. Finslo.’ I looked around. ‘She must be around somewhere.’
Hamre turned to one of the officers. ‘Wasn’t it a man who rang?’
A constable with a face like a boy scout’s and a reputation as a hoodlum nodded affirmatively. ‘Yes.’
Hamre subjected me to a long stare.
I went cold. ‘A man? Who was it?’
Hamre nodded to the constable. ‘Did he give his name?’
‘No. He only said there was a dead body at this address. Then he rang off.’
‘You don’t remember phoning, Veum?’ Hamre said acidly.
‘It wasn’t me.’ And it wasn’t the man in the pool. So who was it? And had Lisbeth Finslo left with him, in the red car that was no longer there?
I had goose pimples over my whole body. To distract myself, I turned my attention back to the new arrivals.
Inspector Jakob E. Hamre was a couple of years younger than me. I observed with satisfaction that he had acquired some new wrinkles on his forehead and that the skin round his chin had tightened, making him look older and more marked than he had before. His dark-blond hair was speckled with grey, and he looked resigned, as most Bergen police officers did during the eighties, for understandable reasons.
He was wearing loose leisure clothing: light-brown sandals, white cotton trousers, a short, eggshell-coloured tracksuit jacket with green speed stripes down the sleeves and an open, red-and-white checked shirt.
Police Officer Peder Isachsen displayed less sartorial elegance and dressed according to the economic vicissitudes of Grand Magasin: cheap, brown Terylene trousers, a blazer that had been modern in 1962 and a light-blue peaked cap that would not have looked out of place on a Swedish pensioner driving through Norway on holiday.
‘What happened?’ Hamre asked.
‘I’ll tell you everything I know.’
‘For a change, eh?’
‘It isn’t much.’
Hamre sighed. He turned to the other officers and said loudly: ‘Let’s go up to the house. Veum has something he wants to show us.’
We followed the gravel path upward.
Hamre coughed and looked at me. ‘Why’s your hair so wet?’
‘I had to swim to the bottom of the pool to get the dead body.’
Isachsen stepped on my heels from behind. ‘Does that mean you’ve moved it?’
I half turned. ‘You think I should’ve left him there, do you? Until I was sure he was stone-dead?’
About the author: One of the fathers of Nordic Noir, Gunnar Staalesen was born in Bergen, Norway, in 1947. He made his debut at the age of twenty-two with Seasons of Innocence and in 1977 he published the first book in the Varg Veum series. He is the author of over twenty titles, which have been published in twenty-four countries and sold over four million copies. Twelve film adaptations of his Varg Veum crime novels have appeared since 2007, starring the popular Norwegian actor Trond Espen Seim. Staalesen has won three Golden Pistols (including the Prize of Honour) and Where Roses Never Die won the 2017 Petrona Award for Nordic Crime Fiction, and Big Sister was shortlisted in 2019. He lives with his wife in Bergen.
*-the price was taken from Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com on the current date. The price might change at the time of your purchase. The links used in this post for book purchases are affiliates.