The first few sentences of a book are arguably the most important. They are the first exposure the reader has to the story, and have to be interesting enough to “hook” them into reading more!! In this post, I share some of my all-time favourite opening lines from fiction novels. What are yours? →
Is today a good day to die? This is something I ask myself in the morning when I wake up.
There was a thing waiting in the darkness. It was ancient, and cruel, and paced in the shadows leashing his mind. It was not of his world, and had been brought here to fill him with its primordial cold.
It was a dark, blustery afternoon in spring, and the city of London was chasing a small mining town across the dried-out bed of the old North Sea.
Over the course of thirty-three years, Rath had been woken up in a number of unpleasant ways. Being dragged out of bed by angry people out for his blood was his least favourite.
Here is the boy, drowning. In these last moments, it’s not the water that’s finally done for him; it’s the cold. It has bled all the energy from his body and contracted his muscles into a painful uselessness, no matter how much he fights to keep himself above the surface.
It’s a weirdly subtle conversation. I almost don’t notice I’m being blackmailed. We’re sitting in metal folding chairs backstage, and Martin Addison says, “I read your email.”
In the moonlit room overlooking the City of Faith, a priest knelt before Ephyra and begged for his life.
It began with a wind from another world. A fury unlike any other kind of blizzard. It tore a hole in the sky and screamed at the ice, forcing them together with an elemental charge. The eddy drew a death song out of the night and with it beat a storm all the way up to the clouds.
What he wants most in the world is to cut off his hands. At the wrist would be best. That hollow tiredness that stretches from fingertips to elbows would be gone forever. How sick is that?
When a man you know to be of sound mind tells you his recently deceased mother has just tried to climb in his bedroom window and eat him, you have two basic options. You can smell his breath, take his pulse and check his pupils to see if he’s ingested anything nasty, or you can believe him.