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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Revenge of the Middle-Aged Woman by Elizabeth Buchan

For twenty-five years, Rose Lloyd has juggled marriage, motherhood, and career with remarkable success. It has been a life of family picnics, books and wine, a cherished house, and her own exquistely designed garden- sunny and comfortable. But then the carefully managed existence to which Rose has become accustomed comes crashing down around her when-over the course of days-her marriage and her career both fall apart. Rose finds herself in mourning for the tenderness of a lost partnership, for a shattered domestic life, and for the lost confidence of a woman who, until now, had made her own way.

Inheritance: A Memoir of Genealogy, Paternity, and Love by Dani Shapiro

1

When I was a girl I would sneak down the hall late at night once my
parents were asleep. I would lock myself in the bathroom, climb onto the Formica counter, and get as close as possible to the morror until I was nose to nose with my own reflection. This wasn’t an exercise in the simple self-absorption of child of childhood. The stakes felt high. Who knows how long I kneeled there, staring into my own eyes. I was looking for something I couldn’t possibly have articulated-but I always knew it when I saw it. If I waited long enough, my face would begin to morph. I was eight, ten, thirteen. Cheeks, eyes, chin, and forehead-my features softened and shape-shifted until finally I was able to see another face, a different face, what seemed to me a truer face just beneath my own.

I started listening to this book today. What do you think? Would you keep reading?