Foreword
Yeah, as youโve probably already guessedโIโm Odd. And no, Iโm not called Odd because Iโm odd, thank you very much, but because here in Norway itโs actually a completely normal name. Likeโฆ Grandma-approved and everything. Trust me, if I had a nickel for every time someone abroad chuckled at my name, I could afford a vacation somewhere with less rain and fewer sheep.
Iโm twentyfive. I donโt have a cat, kids, or a particularly interesting life. What I do have is a perfectly average apartment I bought two years ago in a small, fog-soaked town on the west coast of Norway. You know, the kind of place where time moves so slowly that the moss is more productive than the people.

Why did I buy a place here? Excellent question. Was it because I love the deep, poetic connection to my roots? Absolutely not. Itโs because everyone else around me did it first. And when you grow up in a town like this, itโs kind of expected. Thereโs this unwritten rule that says: โIf youโre born here, you stay here. Forever. Until the cold, wet ground swallows you whole.โ
Move away? You might as well commit social suicide. Or worseโskip the local football season.
Anyway.
Iโm writing this book because something happened last summer. And Iโm talking really happened. The kind of thing that would make you either believe in fate, magic, or a very elaborate prank orchestrated by beings far smarter than me. And I know what youโre thinkingโโOh here we go, another dramatic guy trying to turn his minor inconvenience into a literary masterpiece.โ But no. This is not that.
This? This is the story of how I met Linus.
How I went from bored, aimless, and possibly allergic to romanceโto standing in the middle of a forest with a half-dead, confused guy staring at my smartphone like it had just whispered the secrets of the universe to him.
Linus was... something else. I didnโt know where he came from, what he wanted, or why he looked like heโd stepped out of another era entirely. What I did know was that he needed help. And somehow, for some reason I still canโt explain, I felt like helping him was the most important thing Iโd ever do.
What happened after that? Well, youโll just have to read and find out.
But Iโll tell you this: nothing in my life has ever come close to what that summer brought.
Not the boring parties with my two idiot best friends. Not my familyโs overly complicated Sunday dinners. Not even that one time I accidentally became the townโs accidental hero for chasing a sheep off the local soccer field (donโt ask).
So buckle up, friend. Because this isnโt just a story about me.
Itโs about instincts, secrets, timing, and the kind of connection that makes absolutely no logical senseโbut somehow still feels like home.
And if you donโt believe me now?
Give it a few chapters. We will begin from the start.
I dare you.