Dec 022019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Running with Sherman: The Donkey with the Heart of a Hero by Christopher McDougall

1

I knew something was wrong the second the pickup truck pulled into our driveway. I’d been waiting for Wes for more than an hour, and now, before he even came to a stop, the look in his eyes warned me to brace myself.

“He’s in rough shape,” Wes said as he got out of the truck. “Rougher than I thought.” I’ve know Wes for more than ten years, nearly from the day my wife and I first uprooted ourselves from Philadelphia to live on this small farm in Pennsylvania Amish country, and I’d never seen him so grim before. Together, we walked behind the pickup and pulled open the trailer doors.

I took a look inside, then immediately grabbed in my pocket for my phone. Luckily, I had the number I needed. “Scott, you’ve got to get over here. This is really bad.”

Nov 252019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Speaking American: How Y’all, Youse , and You Guys Talk: A Visual Guide by Josh Katz

Part One
How We Live
What We Call The Shoes We Wear To The Gym

It used to be that if you wanted something to wear on your feet, your only options was expensive handcrafted leather. But in the late nineteenth century, the assembly-line efficiency of the Industrial Revolution and the advent of new materials like vulcanized rubber gave rise to new, cheap, mass-produced footwear. Typically, it had canvas uppers and soft rubber soles.

What to call these newfangled footwear? People quickly began using them to play tennis, so why not call them tennis shoes? Makes sense. That was good enough for most of the country, but in Boston, for reasons lost to history, people thought: Hey, I can really sneak around in these things; lets call them sneakers.

Nov 182019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Stay by Catherine Ryan Hyde

Part One: Then
Summer 1969

Chapter One
The Tipping Day

Is it just me, or does everybody have a day in their life like the one I’m about to retell? I’m talking about those days that act like a fulcrum between everything that came before and your brand-new life after.

It feels a little something like this: When I was a kid, I used to like to bust a move on the playground. Boy stuff, I suppose. I’d run up to the teeter-totter and jump on the “down” seat. The one that was resting in the dirt. Then I’d trot up to the middle- the part that sits safely on the bar. And then, when I kept going, I’d hit the spot where my weight would tip the thing. You know it’s there, you anticipate it. You slow your step just a little bit, knowing it’s soon and you’re about to find it. There’s a delicious little moment of fear in there, but it’s manageable. Next thing you know, you’re being dropped safely back to the dirt, but on the other side. This day was something like that. It was the summer of 1969. was fourteen.

Nov 112019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes

Prologue

December 20, 1037

Listen. Three miles deep in the forest just below Arnott’s Ridge, and you’re in silence so dense it’s like you’re wading through it. There’s no birdsong past dawn, not even in high summer, and especially not now, with the chill air so thick with moisture that it stills those few leaves clinging gamely to the branches. Among the oak and hickory nothing stirs: wild animals are deep underground, soft pelts intertwined in narrow caves or hollowed out hocks, and every few strides he staggers and snorts suspiciously, checking for loose flints and holes under the endless white. Only the narrow creek below moves confidently, it’s clear water murmuring and bubbling over the stony bed, headed down toward an endpoint nobody around here has ever seen.

Nov 042019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Her Daughter’s Mother by Daniela Petrova

Prologue
I watched her walk down the street. She had a fast, determined pace, kew where she was going. No hesitation, no window-shopping as she passed boutiques and gourmet grocery stores. Not even cute dogs or babies distracted her. A woman on a mission. A woman who didn’t bother glancing back. A woman easy to follow. I kept my distance just in case.

Oct 282019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Let It Snow by John Green, Lauren Myracle, Maureen Johnson

Chapter One

It was the night before Christmas.
Well, to be more precise, it was the afternoon before Christmas. But before I take you into the beating heart of the action, let’s get one thing out of the way. I know from experience that if it comes up later, it will distract you so much that you won’t be able to concentrate on anything else I tell you.
My name is Jubilee Dougal. Take a moment and let it sink in.

Oct 222019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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This Is How It Always Is by Laurie Frankel

Once Upon A Time, Claude Was Born
But first, Roo was born. Roosevelt Walsh-Adams. They Had decided to hyphenate because-and in spite-of all the unusual reasons but mostly so their firstborn could have his grandfather’s name without sounding too presidential, which seemed to his parents like a lot of pressure for a six pound, two ounce, brand new tiny human. First Roo was born, all pink and sticky and loud and miraculous. Then Ben was born. Then they debated and deliberated and decided just one more and therefore got twins- Rigel and Orion- who were no doubt going to voice hostility about their names when they became older than four,especially when Rigel found out he was named after the constellation’s toe, but who for the moment were too little and too loud to car. The leap from two to four felt astronomical, so their parents had turned to the heavens.

Oct 072019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Marilla of Green Gables Trade Paperback cover image

Marilla Of Green Gables by Sarah McCoy

Prologue

1876

It’d been a rain chilled May that felt more winter than spring. The apple, cherry, and plum trees were far less jubilant than usual. Their blossoms confetti-ed the pitched roof and washed down the eaves of Green Gables without anybody noticing. Marilla and Matthew worked side by side like blinder-clad horses, plowing ahead as they’d always done. The steady momentum they shared carried them toward the future. The farm chores needed doing, a lost button needed sewing, a batch of bread needed kneading: today was full. Tomorrow would come unpredictably, as was predictable. No us worrying until it was staring you in the face.

Sep 302019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Louisiana’s Way Home by Kate DiCamillo

I am going to write it all down, so that what happened to me will be known, so that if someone were to stand at their window at night and look up at the stars and think, My goodness, whatever happened to Louisiana Elefante? Where did she go? they will have an answer. They will know.
This is what happened.
I will begin at the beginning.

The beginning is that my great-grandfather was a magician, and long, long ago he set into motion a most terrible curse.
But right now you do not need to know the details of the terrible curse. You only need to know that it exists and that it is a curse that has been passed down from generation to generation.
It is, as I said, a terrible curse.
And now it has landed upon my head.
Keep that in mind.

Sep 232019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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The Dearly Beloved by Cara Wall

Prologue

On the day Charles Barrett died, James MacNally closed the door to his study, sat down in his chair, and laid his head on the thick edge of his desk so he could weep. His wife, Nan, did not knock to be let in, though his rough, heavy sobs hit her like stones. She knew James’s death would wring the same sounds from her, if he went first and left her adrift in the world, unmoored.

Sep 172019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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The Totally Awesome Book of Useless Information

The Totally Awesome Book of Useless Information by Noel Botham

Squirrels can climb a tree faster than it can run on the ground

Happy Birthday is the most often sung song in America

A bumble bee beats it’s wings about 160 times a second

Sleeping Beauty slept for one hundred years

Queen Elizabeth 1 had more than 2000 dresses

More presidents have been born in the state of Virginia than any other state

Sep 092019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Pachinko by Min Jin Lee

Book 1
Gohyang/Hometown

1
Yeongdo, Busan, Korea

History has failed us, but no matter.
At the turn of the century, an aging fisherman and his wife decided to take in lodgers for extra money. Both were born and raised in the fishing village of Yeongdo – a five mile wide islet beside the port city of Busan. In their long marriage, the wife gave birth to three sons, but only Hoonie, the eldest and the weakest one, survived. Hoonie was born with a cleft palate and a twisted foot; he was, however, endowed with hefty shoulders, a squat build, and a golden complexion. Even as a young man, he retained the mild, thoughtful temperament he’d had as a child. When Hoonie covered his misshapen mouth with his hands, something he did out of habit meeting strangers, he resembled his nice-looking father, both having the same large, smiling eyes. Inky eyebrows graced his broad forehead, perpetually tanned from outdoor work. Like his parents, Hoonie was not a nimble talker, and some made the mistake of thinking that because he could not speak quickly there was something wrong with his mind, but that was not true.

Sep 022019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo

Book 1
The Dead

1
He wished the phone would stop ringing. It was bad enough to be sick let alone having a phone ring all night long. Boy was he sick. Not from any of their sour french wine either. A man couldn’t hold enough of it to get a head this big. His stomach was going round and round and round. Fine thing nobody’d answer that phone. It sounded like it was ringing in a room about a million miles wide. His head was a million miles wide too. The hell with the telephone.

Aug 272019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

Feel free to join in by posting your own FCFPTI and linking below

Escape Room: A Novel, Megan Goldin

The Escape Room by Megan Goldin

Prologue

It was Miguel who called 911at 4:07A.M. on an icy Sunday morning. The young security guard spoke in an unsteady voice, fear disguised by cocky nonchalance.

Miguel had been an apiring bodybuilder until he injured his back lifting boxes in a warehouse job and had to take night-shift work gaurding a luxury office tower in the final stages of construction. He had a muscular physique, dark hair, and a cleft in his chin.

He was conducting a cursory inspection when a scream rang out. At first, he didn’t hear a thing. Hip-hop music blasted through the oversize headphones he wore as he swept his flashlight across the dark recesses of the lobby.

Aug 192019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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The Art of Racing in the Rain

The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein

1
Gestures are all that I have; sometimes they must be grand in nature. And while I occasionally step over the line and into the world of the melodramtic, it is what I must do in order to communicate clearly and effectively. In order to make my poinr understood without question. I have no words I can rely on because, much to my dismay, my tongue was designed long and flat and loose, and therefore, is a horribly ineffective tool for pushing food around my mouth while chewing, and an even less effective tool for making clever and complicated polysyllabic sounds that can be linked together to form sentences. And that’s why I’m here now waiting for Denny to come home-he should be here soon-lying on the cool tiles of the kitchen floor in a puddle of my own urine.

Aug 122019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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A Three Dog Life by Abigail Thomas

1
What Stays The Same

This is the one thing that stays the same: my husband got hurt. Everything else changes. A grandson needs me and then he doesn’t. My children are close then one drifts away. I smoke and don’t smoke; I knit ponchos, then hats, shawls, hats again, stop knitting, start up again. The clock ticks, the seasons shift, the night sky rearranges itself, but my husband remains constant, his injuries are permanant. He grounds me. Rich is where I shine. I can count on myself with him.

Aug 052019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Long Way Gone

Long Way Gone by Charles Martin

Part One

I’d seen him before. Old guy was probably seventy-five. Maybe eighty. Gnarled, arthiritic fingers. Four packs a day voice. Cottony white hair with yellowed ends. Wrinkled ebony skin. A high mileage chasis. He wore threadbare, blue and gray striped pants that had previously belonged to a wool suit and a soiled white button down that he’d fastened clear to the top. To complete the ensemble, he wore two-toned classic oxfords. The white was dull and cracked, but what remained of the black had been polished to a spit shine.

Jul 292019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Only One Life

Only One Life by Ashley Farley

Part One
Chapter One

Julia
Present Day

Julia felt as thought her belly might explode wide open, even though the baby wasn’t due for another two weeks. She smiled at the thought of giving birth on the tile floor in the kitchen of Duke’s Diner as Duke hovered over her, coaching her through the labor pains and delivery.

Jul 222019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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The Overdue Life of Amy Byler by Kelly Harms

Dear Mom,
So here’s the thing. And I know you’re going to make some weird big deal out of it because you’re a mom and a nerd and you can’t help yourself. You’re going to, like, make it into a Facebook meme and then needlepoint it onto a pillow because you’re crazy. But whatever, here it is: you were right.

What do you think? Would you keep reading?

Jul 152019
 

Every Tuesday I host First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros sharing the first paragraph or two of a book that I’m reading or plan to read soon

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Evvie Drake Starts Over

Evvie Drake Starts Over by Linda Holmes
Narrated by: Julia Whelan, Linda Holmes

First
Go now or you’ll never go, Evvie warned herself. She didn’t want to be there when he got home from work. It was cowardly, yes, but she didn’t relish the whole thing it would turn into, the whole mess. He’d say, not unreasonably, that leaving with no warning at all was a little dramatic. Afer all this time, he would wonder, why now? He wouldn’t know that, today exactly, Evvie had been with him for half her life. She’d figured it out on the back of a grocery receipt a few months earlier, and then she had circled this date on their wall calendar in red. He’d walked by it over and over and never once asked her about it. If she let the day pass, she thought she might start to disappear, cell by cell, bone by bone, replaced by someone who looked like her but wasn’t.