Nedanås and the small community of Mörkaby are, like Reftinge in End of Summer, fictional places. They are, however, inspired by the areas where I grew up in north-western Skåne, mainly Bjuv, Åstorp and Svalöv, situated on or near the beautiful slopes of Söderåsen ridge.

The disused quarry actually exists, and like its literary relative, is not marked on the map. Nevertheless, generations of summer swimmers know where it is, just as we are aware that the dark water is so deep that even in the middle of high summer it is never warmer than twenty degrees.

Extract from Rites of Spring

Keep reading for an extract of

Rites of Spring

Sunday Times Crime Book of the Month

As new life blooms, old secrets stir . . .

Skåne, 1986: On the night of Walpurgis, the eve of May Day, where bonfires are lit to ward off evil spirits and preparations are made to celebrate the renewal of spring, a sixteen-year-old girl is ritualistically murdered in the woods beside a castle. Her stepbrother is convicted of the terrible deed and shortly after, the entire family vanishes without a trace.

Spring, 2019: Dr Thea Lind moves into the castle. After making a strange discovery in an ancient oak tree on the grounds, her fascination with the old tragedy deepens. As she uncovers more and more similarities between her own troubled past and the murdered girl, she begins to believe that the real truth of the killing was never uncovered.

What if the spring of 1986 claimed more than one victim?

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Prologue

19 May 1986

As soon as Little Stefan drove onto the marsh, he began to think about the dead girl. It was impossible not to. The game of Chinese whispers that had started on the morning of May the first had already travelled around the area several times. Filled his head with horrific images from which there was no escape.

Her lifeless body on the sacrificial stone in the centre of the stone circle. Her white dress, her hair loose around her head. Her hands folded over her chest, two antlers clasped in her stiff fingers. Her once beautiful face covered by a bloodstained handkerchief, as if whoever had taken her life had been unable to look her in the eye afterwards.

Most Tornaby residents were already absolutely certain that they knew who’d killed her, that the whole thing was a dreadful but simple story. A family tragedy. However, there were those who quietly maintained that something else entirely had happened during Walpurgis Night. That maybe it was the Green Man himself who had claimed his spring sacrifice.