Yrsa Sigurdardottir

The only witness to a shocking murder is the victim's 10-year-old daughter, Margret. The police turn to the Children's House for their expertise in childhood trauma. The manager, Freyja, doesn't much like the police - especially the detective in charge, Huldar. But she does want to help them protect Margret. And when more people die - their murders heralded by strange messages, texts, and strings of numbers - they will have to work together to crack the riddle before they become targets themselves.

A terrifying ghost story from the Queen of Icelandic crime, Yrsa Sigurdardottir, author of the Thora Gudmundsdottir novels. The crunching noise had resumed, now accompanied by a disgusting, indefinable smell. It could best be described as a blend of kelp and rotten meat. The voice spoke again, now slightly louder and clearer: Don't go. Don't go yet. I'm not finished.

A standalone thriller from the prizewinning queen of Nordic noir and author of the Thora Gudmundsdottir series. A chilling thriller from the author of The Silence of the Sea, winner of the 2015 Petrona Award for best Scandinavian Crime Novel. A journalist on the track of an old case attempts suicide. An ordinary couple return from a house swap in the states to find their home in disarray and their guests seemingly missing.

From the best-selling author of Agent Zigzag, the thrilling true story of the greatest and most successful wartime deception ever attempted. One April morning in 1943, a sardine fisherman spotted the corpse of a British solder floating in the sea off the coast of Spain and set in train a course of events that would change the course of the Second World War.

The light spilling in from the corridor would have to do. Though weak, it was sufficient to show Aldís a boy sitting in the gloom at the farthest table. He had his back to her, so she couldn't see who it was but could tell that he was one of the youngest. A chill ran down her spine when he spoke again without turning, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. 'Go away. Leave me alone.' 'Come on. You shouldn't be here.' Aldís spoke gently, fairly sure now that the boy must be delirious. Confused rather than dangerous.