It is November in Oslo, and the first snow is falling. Winter has arrived. During the night a young boy wakes up to find his mother - Birte Becker - gone. The Snowman, by Jo NesboThere are wet footprints on the stairs. And outside, in the garden, looms a lonely figure looking at the house: a snowman bathed in cold moonlight, its black eyes glaring up at the bedroom windows. And around its neck is his mother's pink scarf.



(' guessed who did it not long before I started it. Not mentionning the typo mistakes. Gnaaaaa)

Et hop un polar suedois (ou enfin de par là où ça caille) en anglais si ça tente un anglolivrovore / an english book for anyone interested.

Thriller norvégien, pas suédois, mais c'est vrai que c'est un endroit où on se les gèle... :-)

- What did you say?
- We're going to die.

It's for you to decide: you can read this book or release it ....