Today I went to a local bookstore with my mother and once again I had to roll my eyes while being in a German bookstore.
Eisige Flut was the first book I picked up, mainly because I was intrigued by the frantic looking gull on the cover.
I had to read the blurb out loud to my mother, though. One February morning a police officer is called out to a homicide in Nordfriesland. There is a corpse on the treshold of a house, frozen stiff and wrapped in a thick layer of ice...
My mother´s commentary (who has lived in Nordfriesland all of her life): "Oh, this book must take place in 1963. That was the last winter such a thing could have happened." I couldn´t argue against that, besides that the book is set in comtemporary times and that the murderer might have a big freezer at home. It´s Nordfriesland this author is writing about, not the Arctic, Alaska or some other freakishly cold place on earth. At the moment we have 5 degrees celcius here.
I wonder what was going through the head of the author while writing implausible stuff like this. But then, all the Nordfriesland mysteries I have read so far were the bottom of the barrell. My poor home, it has to eternally suffer from bad writing.