John Ajvide Lindqvist - Little Star

PRAISE FOR HARBOUR

Fabulously creepy. Jennifer Byrne, Sunday Age

Lindqvist balances horror with credibly drawn feelingthe characters here are also a vulnerable bunchand of course the setting helps enormously: they make a vivid picture, blood and snow. Age

MUST READ. Sunday Telegraph

Conjures a setting that chills the blood. Yet Harbour is also a love storyseveral different types of love, each moving in its own way. Intelligent writing, poetic imagery, a deft turn of phrase, this is no slice and dice shocker (except for the chainsaw duel).

Adelaide Advertiser

Effectively mixes the societal tensions found in Scandinavian crime with the supernatural horror of Stephen King.

Canberra Times

Suspense, humour and an enormous climax. Sunday Examiner

A magician of genre fictionLindqvist again trips along that thin high wire between supernatural devices and psychological veritsBetween monsters outside and demons within, Lindqvist covers the haunted waterfront. Independent

PRAISE FOR HANDLING THE UNDEAD

Horror fans will rejoiceA macabre and strangely affecting tale, at once compassionate, witty and deliciously gruesome. Age

I would have said his strengths were more cinematic than literaryuntil I read this. Haunting. Weekend Herald NZ

Unsettling and shocking. Who Weekly

In the end it is its compassion, not just for the dead but for the wounded living, that lends Lindqvists haunting postmodern fairytale its power. James Bradley, Australian

Horror is the genre du jour andLindqvist is one of the best practitioners around. Sunday Telegraph

So clever that perhaps it could be the one horror novel not to be missed this yearLindqvist isnt afraid to touch nerves and violate taboos. Courier-Mail

Youll be leaving the bedside light on after reading this.

West Australian

Unerringly explores the nature of family relationships, how to cope with loss and literally the nature of life and death.

Canberra Times

Lindqvists dark star continues to rise with Handling the Undead, a subversion of the zombie genre whose strange glow is proving similarly mesmeric. Listener NZ

PRAISE FOR LET THE RIGHT ONE IN

A genuinely gripping read. If you read only one gore-filled, vampire love story complete with rich, dark humour and strong cinematic possibilities this year, make sure its

Let the Right One In. Age

Brilliant and unexpectednot simply shock and gore, but an offbeat exploration of fear and the meaning of violence.

Weekend Australian

Like all good vampire books, you want to gulp it down in one go. Bulletin

Reminiscent of Stephen King at his best. Independent on Sunday

A terrifying supernatural story yet also a moving account of friendship and salvation. Guardian

An unsettling and durable horror tale from the mind of a dangerously imaginative man. Herald Sun

A surprising and sometimes delightful reading experience

Lindqvist manages to maintain a light touch in an otherwise bleak landscape. Sunday Times

This was a bestseller in Sweden and could be equally big here. Dont miss it. The Times

An energetic, noisy, highly imaginative novel that blends the most extreme kind of vampirish schlock-horror with a complicated love story, a profoundly gory sequence of murders and some rather good domestic realism about life in 1980s Stockholm.

Kerryn Goldsworthy, Sydney Morning Herald

A compelling horror story, but its also a finely calibrated tale about the pain of growing up. Sunday Telegraph

Lindqvist has reinvented the vampire novel and made it all the more chillingImmensely readable and highly disturbing.

Daily Express

Let the Right One in
Handling the Undead
Harbour

JOHN AJVIDE LINDQVIST lives in Sweden and has worked as a conjurer and stand-up comedian. His first novel, Let the Right One In, was published in eleven countries and adapted into two feature films: one by Swedish director Tomas Alfredson, and an English-language version, Let Me In.

MARLAINE DELARGY is based in the UK. She has translated novels by Swedish writers including sa Larsson, Ninni Holmqvist and Johan Theorinwith whom she won the CWA International Dagger 2010 for The Darkest Room.

Everyone is actually called something else

Solliden, Skansen. June 26, 2007. Ten minutes to eight. The presenter is warming up the audience with a sing-along version of Im Gonna Be a Country Girl Again. When the song ends a technician asks if all parents could please lift their children down off their shoulders so they wont be hit by the camera cranes.

The sun is directly behind the stage, dazzling the audience. The sky is deep blue. The young people crowding the barriers are asked to move back slightly to avoid a crush. Swedens biggest music show will be on air in five minutes, and no one must be allowed to come to harm.

There must be these oases of pleasure, where everyday cares are set aside for a while. Nothing bad can happen here, and every possible security measure has been taken to keep this place of enjoyment safe.

Screams of pain, of terror, are unthinkable; there must not be blood on the ground or covering the seats when the broadcast is over. There must not be a corpse lying on the stage, with many more on the ground below. Chaos cannot be permitted here. There are too many people. The atmosphere must be calm and pleasant.

The orchestra strikes up with Stockholm in My Heart, and everyone joins in. Hands sway in the air, mobile phone cameras are raised. A wonderful feeling of togetherness. It will be another fifteen minutes until, with meticulous premeditation, the whole thing is torn to shreds.

Let us sing along for the time being. We have a long way to go before we return here. Only when the journey has softened us up, when we are ready to think the unthinkable, will we be permitted to come back.

So come on everyone! All together now!

Through Lake Mlarens love of the sea

a blend of fresh water and brine

there were rumours of a mushroom glut in the forests; it was said that the warm moist weather of late summer had provoked a burst of chanterelles and hedgehog mushrooms. As Lennart Cederstrm turned off onto the forest track in his Volvo 240, he had a large basket and a couple of plastic bags on the back seat. Just in case.

He had a mix tape of pop hits on the stereo, and Christer Sjgrens voice was loud and clear in the speakers: Ten thousand red roses Id like to give you

Lennart grinned scornfully and joined in with the chorus, imitating Sjgrens mannered bass vibrato. It sounded excellent. Almost identical; Lennart was probably a better singer than Sjgren. But so what? He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time on too many occasions, seen too many golden opportunities snatched away from under his very nose or heard them zip past behind his back. Gone when he turned around.

Anyway. He would have his mushrooms. Chanterelles, the gold of the forest, and plenty of them. Then back home to blanch them and fill up the freezer, giving him enough for mushrooms on toast and beer every single evening until the Christmas tree was thrown out. Several days of rain had given way to a couple of days of brilliant sunshine, and the conditions were just perfect.