An Excerpt From “Aglow In Iceland” by Victoria Walker

Back from my autumn break with a lovely taster excerpt from Aglow in Iceland by Victoria Walker which was published on 3 November 2026. Over to Victoria to set the scene …

It’s great to be back on Morton’s blog this week! My latest book, Aglow in Iceland was published last week. I can hardly believe that it’s the sixth book in my Icelandic Romance series. Readers love their virtual annual visit to Reykjavik to catch up with the gang of friends that gets larger with every book.

Aglow in Iceland stars Embla. She was a minor character in the fourth book, Ignited in Iceland, and she works at Hotel Gló as the head receptionist. In that book, all we saw was her being mean to Iris because Iris started going out with Embla’s ex-boyfriend, Siggi.

In Aglow in Iceland, we find out the reasons for Embla’s tough exterior and also find out that she’s fiercely loyal and has a heart of gold. So when British hotelier Kit Hampton-Jones arrives at Hotel Gló hoping his usual charms will work to get Embla on side, sparks fly.

Here is an excerpt from the book. This is when Embla and Kit meet for the first time, from his point-of-view…

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Aglow in Iceland Excerpt

Kit pulled his phone out to check yet again where he would be staying for the next two nights. Hotel Gló. It was a faintly ridiculous name but presumably it translated as something less so. The rooms looked habitable enough on the website but it was always hard to tell until you arrived. Anything could look good online.

As the car approached the city, Kit relaxed. It was still grey and bleak, but there were signs of life that gave him hope; a couple of glass-clad buildings housing well-known banks, a huge building that his driver informed him was the opera house, and plenty of modern buildings including hotels and clothing brands he recognised. It wasn’t quite the back-of-beyond he’d thought when they’d left the airport.

The car crawled through the narrowing streets of the old part of the city until it turned onto the street where Hotel Gló was. Kit climbed out of the car while the driver retrieved his luggage from the boot. He stood on the pavement and assessed his first impression of the hotel from the outside.

A fairly simple building had been turned into something that he had to admit was welcoming. Kerb appeal for a hotel was huge, and this place had nailed that. The windows glowed through the gloom, urging guests inside with the promise of warmth and cosiness. The branches of the trees on the pavement outside were adorned with tiny fairy lights, making Kit feel festive even though it was October. That was quite some feat.

‘Thank you,’ he said to the driver, pressing a couple of notes into his hand.

‘Thank you, sir. Have a good stay.’

Kit went through the main door of the hotel and into the lobby, which had rather a nice water feature in the middle of the room made of lava rocks, as far as he could tell. That set the place apart from any of its chain-hotel competitors, showing it was truly local. Another tick.

‘Good morning.’ The receptionist, a blonde woman, was smiling at him. Unusually for a hotel receptionist, the smile actually reached her eyes.

‘I have a reservation in the name of Jones. Two nights.’

‘Yes, Mr Jones. I have your booking here. We have you in room twelve on the second floor.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Would you like to make a dinner reservation?’

‘Where would you eat dinner if you were new in town?’

She looked taken aback. He flashed her his most devastating smile and instead of the usual giggle it elicited in most women, she narrowed her eyes.

‘I’d eat in the restaurant at my hotel.’

He laughed, even though he didn’t think she was joking. If it had gone the way he’d planned he’d have asked her to join him.

‘Fine. Make me a reservation for eight o’clock.’

She waited for a moment, and he felt distinctly as if she might be waiting for him to say please. His mother would have told him to say please, and he suddenly felt a little ashamed of himself.

‘Thank you,’ he said instead, which prompted some action from her.

‘That’s booked for you, Mr Jones. And if there’s anything else, do let me know.’

She handed him the key card for his room.

‘Would you like your bags taken up?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

A tall, fair man came into the lobby. He didn’t look like a hotel porter, he was too well-dressed and friendly-looking.

‘Room twelve,’ the woman said to him.

‘Thanks, Embla. Follow me, please.’

Kit grabbed his carry-on bag while the man carried his suitcase and suit-carrier.

‘Have you been to Reykjavik before?’

‘No, it’s my first time.’

‘Embla mentioned you’re with a tour company?’

‘Yes.’ Was it any of this man’s business?

‘I’m Anders, the owner of the hotel. We’re very happy to have you. If we can help you out at all, please let us know.’

Anders came to a stop outside room twelve and Kit felt slightly embarrassed that the owner of the hotel had carried his bags up. ‘I’m sorry,’ he held out his hand. ‘I’d have carried my own bags if I’d realised you’re the proprietor.’

Anders smiled and shrugged. ‘It’s no problem.’

‘I am with a tour company. We’re looking for hotels to partner with.’ It was his standard explanation. He’d used it before in similar situations.

‘Which company?’

‘We’re a startup. Right in the middle of the branding exercise so no name as yet, but we’re trying to get ahead by having the packages ready to go as soon as we launch.’ The well-practised half-truths rolled off Kit’s tongue.

‘If you’re looking for a contact for local excursions, I can put you in touch with the number one company in Reykjavik.’

‘That’d be great,’ Kit said, although he had no intention of taking Anders up on that offer.

‘Well, I will leave you to it. Let me or Embla know if you need anything at all.’

‘Thank you. Appreciate it.’

Kit let himself into his room, relieved that the conversation was behind him. He pushed the keycard into the slot just inside the door, and the lights came on, immediately bathing the room in an inviting, restful glow.

Before he could allow himself to relax, Kit unpacked, hung his suits and shirts in the wardrobe, and placed all the folded items in the drawers. He laid out his toiletries in the bathroom, putting his shower gel and shampoo into the shower cubicle, then back in the bedroom, he stowed all his luggage in the bottom of the wardrobe.

Only now did he look at the room, take it in like the professional he was. His first impression was that it continued the story that had started down in the lobby; this was a hotel run by a local. It wasn’t an out-of-the-box hotel room, and there were good and bad things about that. The decor was simple. Cream walls, white woodwork. It was clean, yet not sterile. The triple-glazed window overlooked the street and was fitted with a roll-down blackout blind and heavy curtains in a colour Kit wasn’t sure he knew how to describe. Dusky teal? Greenish blue?

The bed linen was white. An absolute must. It screamed fresh, crisp, and clean. Something every guest wanted. They’d gone with the Scandi tradition of having two duvets instead of a double one, something Kit could get behind, and there was a bedside table on either side of the bed each with a table lamp and a smaller reading light.

What set the room apart were the small touches like the upholstered chair next to the window, which had a colourful cushion propped up on its corner and a woollen blanket draped over the back. Kit wasn’t one for sitting around reading, but if he was, it would be a delightful spot, and it gave the guest a feeling of intimacy with the space, almost offering it to them as their own rather than a transient place to stay.

There was a large printed canvas over the bed: a photograph of the town from above with the sea in the distance and colourful houses in the foreground. Just to emphasise to the guest that they were in Reykjavik. Then on another smaller canvas on the wall opposite the window was a photograph of snow-covered mountains with a snowy Reykjavik in the foreground.

The carpet was less than practical. It was far too deep a pile which would make it difficult to clean, although Kit had to admit, it looked spotless. And the bathroom was rather small. He knew that was because it was an old building that had been repurposed rather than purpose-built, but whatever the reason, it was disappointing.

He picked up the guest information folder and sat in the chair next to the window, where he was momentarily distracted by the view. At first glance, the view seemed restricted by the surrounding buildings, but Kit noticed the tops of the mountains in the photo behind him, just peeking over the rooftops opposite. And if he looked the other way, he could see the corner of the street where it met the busier Laugavegur. He had to admit it was a great location in the heart of the old city, where it would be next to impossible to build a decent hotel, even if you could get the land. The higgledy-piggledy streets in this area wouldn’t invite a sleek new build.

He flicked through the folder, noting the sample restaurant menu, all the standard information about times of this and that, the location of the nearest supermarket, doctor, dentist. Then he came to a page that had a photo at the top of a wonderful roof bar. Now this was more interesting. He got his phone out ready to look up the place in his maps app before he realised it was right here. The crowning glory of the hotel, and he wouldn’t have even known if he’d not looked through the folder. How many guests did that?

It was four o’clock. A little early for opening time, but not too early to investigate further. Kit pulled the keycard out of the slot, slid it into his back pocket and headed upstairs. At the top was a landing with two doors. One clearly led outside and the other… He tried the door and it opened into a wooden-clad room that looked like a changing room. There was a pile of white fluffy towels on the bench and robes hanging on hooks, uniformly presented with the belt wrapped around tightly and fastened in a bow to indicate that they were freshly laundered.

Kit backed out of the changing room, slightly confused as to why there would be a changing room like this at a rooftop bar, then tried the other door. It opened onto a large roof terrace with a small bar in the opposite corner, and tables and chairs radiating out from there. Almost exactly as the picture he’d seen, festoon lights were strung, criss-crossing overhead and making the place feel…cool. There was no other word for it. He walked further out onto the roof, intrigued despite the drizzle. When he turned to face the way he’d come, the reason for the changing room became clear; there was a sauna with a glass front to make the most of the view over the rooftops, and in the corner nearest the door he’d come out of, a hot tub.

He chuckled to himself. This wasn’t something he’d expected to find, and it showed that the owner, Anders, had little to no idea of what he was doing. What was he selling with this space? A spa or a bar? Either way, it was the icing on the cake of this place and in the hands of someone who knew what they were doing, a potential goldmine.

***

About Victoria Walker

Victoria Walker writes contemporary romance with heart, humour, and a love of the location, whether it’s Iceland, Norway or England. Her books often feature crafty heroines, small-town charm, and the kind of everyday magic found in cosy communities, all inspired by her own passions for dressmaking, knitting, and village life in the Malvern Hills.

A visit to Iceland in 2014 sparked her debut novel, Snug in Iceland, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. When she’s not crafting stories, you’ll find her reading stacks of romance novels (with the occasional thriller thrown in), or making something with her hands, a habit from her past life as a yarn store owner, and knitting and sewing tutor. These experiences have a funny way of appearing in her books.

Victoria lives in the Malvern Hills with her husband, where she’s always plotting her next story.

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Latest Book – Aglow in Iceland

Embla Karlsdóttir has never set foot outside Iceland, not even for a holiday. Growing up with parents more interested in the next drink or the next bet than in their daughter, nobody ever expected much of her. But after three years running Hotel Gló in Reykjavik, Embla has become someone she never imagined: confident, capable and independent. Now she’s ready for the biggest leap of her life, a hotel manager job abroad.
Kit Jones runs a tour company and is looking for Reykjavik hotels to partner with. Kind, attentive and genuinely charmed by Hotel Gló, he quickly becomes a friend to Embla, and then something more. But Kit isn’t who he says he is. He’s Christopher Hampton-Jones, heir to a prestigious hotel group, and he’s in Iceland to research a takeover. Worse, his ambitious father and brother have set their sights on the one hotel Kit begged them to leave alone: Hotel Gló.
When Embla discovers the truth, Kit must decide how far he’s willing to go against his own family to save the hotel, and to win back the woman who has captured his heart.

Buying link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0HKWMCMW7

This is the blog for Morton S. Gray, writer of romance with a mystery to solve The Secrets of Borteen Bay Series set in the fictional seaside town of Borteen for Choc Lit Publishing an imprint of Joffe Books.