Welcome to another Tuesday celebrating bookish events, from Tuesday/First Chapter/Intros, hosted by Vicky from I’d Rather Be At The Beach who 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 opener this week is from A Place to Lie by Rebecca Griffiths which is due to be published on 6 December 2018. I requested a copy of this book purely on the basis of the location as I lived in the Forest of Dean from the ages of nine to seventeen.
In a dark, dark wood
In Summer 1990, Caroline and Joanna are sent to stay with their great aunt, Dora, to spend their holidays in a sunlit village near the Forest of Dean. The countryside is a welcome change from the trauma they know back home in the city; a chance to make the world a joyful playground again. But in the shadowy woods at the edge of the forest hide secrets that will bring their innocence to a distressing end and make this a summer they will never forget.
There was a dark, dark house
Years later, a shocking act of violence sends Joanna back to Witchwood. In her great aunt’s lonely and dilapidating cottage, she will attempt to unearth the secrets of that terrifying summer and come to terms with the haunting effects it has left on her life. But in her quest to find answers, who can she trust? And will she be able to survive the impending danger from those trying to bury the truth?
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First Chapter ~ First Paragraph ~ Intro
She knows she’s in trouble the moment she steps into the street. Corralled by looming buildings and confused by the dazzle from fiercely lit shops and headlamps, the danger that is only a heartbeat away has her braced for attack. With her bag secured across her front like a shield, she slips her hand inside to clasp the knife. Her bag, with its sharp edges and thick leather strap, works as a weapon too. She’s grateful for it. And with everyone and everything a threat to her safety, she needs all the help she can get. Overtaking an androgynous couple in dark winter clothes, she spins her head to the amplified rush of tyres on wet tarmac and skids on the rain-polished pavement. Taking a moment to steady herself, she watches a dying bird at her feet – its frantic flapping is distressing, until she realises it’s nothing more than a collection of dead leaves.
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Well there is a lot of adrenaline in that opening paragraph and I for one want to know why.
What do you think? Would you keep reading?