Welcome to another Tuesday celebrating bookish events, from Tuesday/First Chapter/Intros, hosted by Bibliophile by the Sea Every Tuesday, Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea posts the opening paragraph (sometime two) of a book she decided to read based on the opening. Feel free to grab the banner and play along.
My chosen book for this week is Blackwater by James Henry, the author who wrote the three prequels to the Frost series.
January 1983, Colchester CID
A new year brings new resolutions for Detective Inspector Nicholas Lowry. With one eye on his approaching fortieth birthday, he has given up his two greatest vices: smoking, and the police boxing team. As a result, the largest remaining threat to his health is now his junior colleague’s reckless driving.
If Detective Constable Daniel Kenton’s orange sports convertible is symbolic of his fast track through the ranks, then his accompanying swagger, foppish hairstyle and university education only augment his uniqueness in the department. Yet regardless of this, it is not DC Kenton who is turning station heads.
WPC Jane Gabriel is the newest police recruit in Britain’s oldest recorded town. Despite a familial tie to top brass, Gabriel’s striking beauty and profound youth have landed her with two obstacles: a young male colleague who gives her too much attention, and an older one who acts like she’s not there.
January 1983, Blackwater Estuary
A new year brings a new danger to the Essex shoreline. An illicit shipment, bound for Colchester – 100 kilograms of powder that will frantically accelerate tensions in the historic town, and leave its own murderous trace.
Lowry, Kenton and Gabriel must now develop a tolerance to one another, and show their own substance, to save Britain’s oldest settlement from a new, unsettling enemy. Amazon
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First Chapter ~ First Paragraph ~ Intro
10:45 P.M., Friday, New Years Eve, 31st December 1982
Blackwater Estuary, Essex
Though they couldn’t have been travelling at more than six knots, the din when they unexpectedly beached the boat was horrific The older man’s panic subsided once the racket of the small outboard motor was silenced and he realised they weren’t going to sink; that they had in fact run aground. Now all was quiet. And eerily dark.
Saturday, New Year’s Day, 1983
1 a.m., Saturday, Colchester CID, Queen Street
The telephone’s sudden ring jolted DI Nick Lowry awake and he knocked over a mug of coffee Lowry, thirty-nine, ex-Divisional athletic and boxing champion, was too big for the 1950s wooden desk he’d slumped asleep on, and he started as the cold liquid reached his prone elbow. Realising where he was, he yawned and scratched his dark brown hair, glancing sheepishly at his younger colleague, opposite, who was scribbling notes under a grimy Anglepoise lamp
Please note that these excerpts come from a proof copy ahead of publication on 14 July 2016
So what do you think? Would you read on?