Having read and enjoyed an escape to Summer Island, I am thrilled Natalie Norman has released Christmas Island. Readers will enjoy a delicious insight into a Nordic Christmas and traditions. It is my pleasure to invite you to Norway via an extract from Natalie’s novel, so sit back and unwrap this beautiful story.
Holly could smell cinnamon as they got closer. ‘You’re not feeding me more waffles, are you? Because I’ve had lots of those already.’
‘No, this is different. This is proper old fashion yummies. I bet the Vikings made this, although most likely without the cinnamon,’ he said.
When they approached the market stall, they saw lots of people in front of it. Holly stretched her neck to see what they were looking at, and Tor pulled her in so she could watch.
It looks like a cooking show, she thought. Two women, both with colourful headscarves, were having a great time showing off their skills.
The centrepiece was a large cooking plate. One of the women was using a huge rolling pin to roll out a thin dough, while the other stood by the heat and picked it up on a long, thinner rolling pin.
‘Is it a pancake?’ Holly asked Tor.
He shook his head. ‘Not even close,’ he said.
The woman folded the not-really-a-pancake gently out on the plate, then she just as gently flipped the sides and lifted it up, putting it on a cloth next to her.
All the while she was talking to the audience.
‘What is she saying?’ Holly looked up at Tor.
‘She’s explaining the process. These are called lefser, and there are variations all over the country. You can use them with savoury food or as cakes, depending on what you put on them. What she’s making is used with kling, which is basically a spread made of butter, cream, sour cream, and sugar.’
(Photo taken by Peter Lloyd on Upsplash.)
He laughed when he saw the expression on her face. ‘This is what we do at Christmas. All year round it’s all about healthy and moderation, and at Christmas it’s upside down world.’
‘Do you eat them hot?’ Holly couldn’t see that the women were handing out the fresh lefse.
‘No, I don’t think so.’ Tor pointed at the end of the counter where there were several plates of square cakes. ‘These are the ones we want.’
He elbowed his way to the counter and bought a few pieces. When he got back to her, he had a lopsided grin on his face and two paper bags in his hands.
‘Here. I had to buy a few potato lefser too. They are good with smoked salmon or gravlaks,’ he said.
He opened one bag and showed it to her. ‘Take one. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it.’
Holly was game. She took one of the lefser and eyed it. It was rectangular, not round, and there were layers in it, and when she took a bite, there was the taste of creamy, buttery sugar and cinnamon that just melted on her tongue.
About Christmas Island
In the bleak midwinter…
A really frosty wind is making Holly’s life absolutely miserable
After all the years of hard work it took Londoner Holly Greene to become a doctor, now it could all be taken away and she only has herself to blame. She’s retreating to her brother’s rustic home on an island off the coast of Norway to lick her wounds. Only, it’s the middle of winter and icy slush plus endless darkness isn’t exactly the cheery, festive getaway she had imagined.
Nearly stumbling off the edge of a cliff in the dark, Holly is saved by Frøy, a yellow-eyed cat of fearsome but fluffy proportions, and his owner – grouchy, bearded recluse, Tor. Tor has his own problems to face but the inexplicable desire to leave a bag of freshly baked gingerbread men on Holly’s doorstep is seriously getting in the way of his hermit routine.
Call it kindness, call it Christmas, but Holly’s arrival means midwinter has never looked less bleak.
About Natalie Norman
Natalie Normann grew up in a shipping town on the west-coast of Norway and always wanted to be a writer. Actually, she wanted to smoke cigars and drink whiskey like Hemingway but settled for chocolate and the occasional glass of Baileys.
Her writing journey started with short stories in women’s magazines until her first book was published in 1995.
Summer Island is her first romance written in English.
Please see all my Book Extracts and also my website and blog at JessieCahalin.com.
A copy of my novel can be found here.
Tuscan Roots
I stopped at the mill ‘hidden in the folds of the Alps of the Moon, where the sun sets from the jewel red skies behind misted blue peaks.’ Anna’s mother once lived in a mill, and she explains ‘…the old building in ruins, crumbling into nothing seems to mirror what I am leaning of Mamma’s past.’ The Mill is ‘fragile’ and is a symbol of lost history and lost dreams that could be rekindled by the new generation. Sitting on the steps to read the letters and diaries, I sensed the ‘breeze that dances on the river’. Listening to the ‘sound of the river and distant sheep bells’, I could feel the loneliness of Ines. I am sure I heard the voices of the German soldiers who would have bathed there, and the whispers of the POWs and partisans hidden in the mountains.
I was completely spellbound by the characters and the clever structure of this novel. ‘
This novel evokes the senses and leaves the reader firmly fixed in Tuscany. Not the tourist’s Italy, but rural, down to earth Italy – ‘this landscape feels lived in’, and the author breathes life into ‘the ghosts from the past’. The story of the POW and partisans provide another dimension to this story, and I was impressed with how this was skilfully woven into the story.
