Pétur nýtur sín í heimi peninga og valda þar sem menn í viðskiptum reyna að hagnast og stjórnmálamenn þykjast vera heiðarlegir. Hann er tilbúinn til að ryðja forsætisráðherra úr vegi þegar hún reynir að koma í veg fyrir yfirtöku hans á stærsta orkuframleiðanda landsins. Ekkert getur staðið í vegi fyrir honum.
Ekkert nema martraðirnar sem spanna þúsund ár í Íslandssögunni. Þær eru þreytandi tímasóun sem hann reynir að leiða hjá sér. Allt breytist þegar honum er send ljósmynd af konunni í draumunum. Hann skilur ekki hvernig nokkur gat vitað af tilvist hennar, hvernig hún gat sloppið úr ímyndunum hans og inn í raunheiminn.
Skilin milli veruleikans og martraðanna brenglast þegar maður er myrtur á skrifstofunni. Gamla húsið úr draumunum virðist vera lykillinn að myrkri fortíðinni og þegar hann stígur inn fyrir þröskuldinn verða martraðirnar áþreifanlegri en heimurinn sem hann lifir í.
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About the Author
Villi Asgeirsson was born in Iceland as Major Tom ascended to the skies, to be lost forever. He spent the seventies learning to read and write. He also moved houses a lot, having lived in at least six places by the time he was ten.
On his tenth birthday, he received a small transistor radio and was scared witless by a huge spider sitting on his chest. This may have formed him in a small way, or it may be irrelevant. Such is the nature of our human existence. There are no absolutes and we may never know what matters until much later, if at all.
The eighties were spent listening to questionable music and dressing badly. He also tried to learn the guitar, but the dang things never stayed in tune so he gave up.
He moved to London in the nineties to study audio engineering. If that guitar thing didn't work for him, at least he could record other people playing. He worked as a live engineer for a while. As impatience would have it, he moved again at the end of the twentieth century, this time to the Netherlands. Supposedly to have a normal life. He still lives there with a wife and child and spends his time working for a major airline, writing and dabbling in photography.
He first wrote stories as a kid. He played with poetry as a teen, even if reading poetry is something he still can’t do. His first attempt at a novel in 1997 ended in disaster. His second, in 2001, was cut short by world events. It wasn’t very good anyway. The first successful attempt at novel writing, Under the Black Sand, was published in 2013. People seemed enthusiastic about it. And now we have Blood and Rain.