Valkyrie Rising by Ingrid Paulson
Hardcover, 352 pages
Expected publication: October 9th 2012 by HarperTeen
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Nothing ever happens in Norway. But at least Ellie knows what to expect when she visits her grandmother: a tranquil fishing village and long, slow summer days. And maybe she’ll finally get out from under the shadow of her way-too-perfect big brother, Graham, while she’s there.
What Ellie doesn’t anticipate is Graham’s infuriating best friend, Tuck, tagging along for the trip. Nor did she imagine boys going missing amid rumors of impossible kidnappings. Least of all does she expect something powerful and ancient to awaken in her and that strange whispers would urge Ellie to claim her place among mythological warriors. Instead of peace and quiet, there’s suddenly a lot for a girl from L.A. to handle on a summer sojourn in Norway! And when Graham vanishes, it’s up to Ellie—and the ever-sarcastic, if undeniably alluring Tuck—to uncover the truth about all the disappearances and thwart the nefarious plan behind them.
Deadly legends, hidden identities, and tentative romance swirl together in one girl’s unexpectedly-epic coming of age.
I ran upstairs and dug through my suitcase for a sweater that would make me look slightly less like a high school girl who had no business hanging out with a cute college boy. Which was impossible. I finally found a black sweater that Tuck always said made me look like a little old lady. Far from ideal, but at least that meant it made me look older.
When I was halfway down the stairs, I heard Kjell and my grandmother talking in low voices. Something about their tone made me reflexively pause to listen, even though I wouldn’t understand. I strained my ears, but the only words I could pick out were Odin and Valhalla. And only because I recognized them from my grandfather’s bedtime stories.
Whatever Kjell said made my grandmother break into a peal of laughter. Oddly enough, it sounded forced. I wasn’t sure what could be so funny anyways, given that Odin was basically the grim reaper in Norse mythology and Valhalla was his home. From what I remembered, anything involving Odin was pretty creepy and gory.
The step beneath my feet creaked as I shifted, trying to creep closer. Their conversation ended abruptly.
One look at Grandmother’s arched eyebrow as I walked down the stairs told me that my attempt at stealthy eavesdropping had failed, to say the least.
I wouldn’t have given their whole exchange a second thought . . . well, maybe not a third . . . if my
grandmother hadn’t stood there a moment longer, blocking the door.
“Just be careful, Kjell,” she said, switching to English and snaring my curiosity once and for all.
Kjell nodded, giving Grandmother a loaded smile. “I promise I won’t disappear. I’m too big for the fairies to carry away.”
“Even ridiculous rumors spring from a seed of truth,” Grandmother said.
“What rumors?” I asked. If she didn’t want me to know, she shouldn’t have dangled a big juicy carrot in front of me.
She shook her head and smiled as she tucked my hair behind my ear.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” she said.
I turned to go. In the reflection in the window beside the door, I saw Grandmother slip a small velvet envelope into Kjell’s hand, the kind that jewelers use. He upended it, and something silver slipped out onto his palm. Both of them clearly thought I hadn’t seen. But I was tuned into every single thing she did, given the way their conversation had made me reconsider Grandmother’s explanation of what had happened in the bakery. Rumors and disappearances seemed to be the new theme in Skavøpoll, and something told me they had nothing to do with last year’s garden show.
When I was halfway down the stairs, I heard Kjell and my grandmother talking in low voices. Something about their tone made me reflexively pause to listen, even though I wouldn’t understand. I strained my ears, but the only words I could pick out were Odin and Valhalla. And only because I recognized them from my grandfather’s bedtime stories.
Whatever Kjell said made my grandmother break into a peal of laughter. Oddly enough, it sounded forced. I wasn’t sure what could be so funny anyways, given that Odin was basically the grim reaper in Norse mythology and Valhalla was his home. From what I remembered, anything involving Odin was pretty creepy and gory.
The step beneath my feet creaked as I shifted, trying to creep closer. Their conversation ended abruptly.
One look at Grandmother’s arched eyebrow as I walked down the stairs told me that my attempt at stealthy eavesdropping had failed, to say the least.
I wouldn’t have given their whole exchange a second thought . . . well, maybe not a third . . . if my
grandmother hadn’t stood there a moment longer, blocking the door.
“Just be careful, Kjell,” she said, switching to English and snaring my curiosity once and for all.
Kjell nodded, giving Grandmother a loaded smile. “I promise I won’t disappear. I’m too big for the fairies to carry away.”
“Even ridiculous rumors spring from a seed of truth,” Grandmother said.
“What rumors?” I asked. If she didn’t want me to know, she shouldn’t have dangled a big juicy carrot in front of me.
She shook her head and smiled as she tucked my hair behind my ear.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” she said.
I turned to go. In the reflection in the window beside the door, I saw Grandmother slip a small velvet envelope into Kjell’s hand, the kind that jewelers use. He upended it, and something silver slipped out onto his palm. Both of them clearly thought I hadn’t seen. But I was tuned into every single thing she did, given the way their conversation had made me reconsider Grandmother’s explanation of what had happened in the bakery. Rumors and disappearances seemed to be the new theme in Skavøpoll, and something told me they had nothing to do with last year’s garden show.
This Tour Stop is courtesy of Itching for Books!
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