Category Archives: A to Z Challenge

Z is for Zen for Murder

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Z
Welcome to my final post in the A to Z Blogging Challenge. Each day, I’ve been sharing the opening paragraphs to a book that starts with that letter and is sitting on my shelves or my Kindle.

Z is for Zen for Murder

A Zen for Murder by Leighann Dobbs

Claire Watkins tossed a dead rose stem from her spacious garden into the small wheelbarrow just as the sun made its appearance, splashing the blue Atlantic Ocean with a wash of pink.

Sunrise was her favorite time of day. It was quiet. Peaceful. To her, the hours before her little town of Crab Cove on Mooseamuck Island, Maine, woke up and the hub-bub of tourist and local activity started were the most precious hours of the day.

Stretching, she winced at the slight pull in the muscles in her lower back and the popping sounds that crackled from her spine. Even so, Claire felt grateful that she enjoyed relatively good health for her seventy years, which she attributed to the strict natural health regimen she'd adopted in the past decade.

So, what do you think? Read it soon or give it a pass?

Y is for You Remind Me of Me

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Y
Welcome to today’s post for the A to Z Blogging Challenge. For each day, I’ll be sharing the opening paragraphs to a book that starts with that letter and is sitting on my shelves or my Kindle.
Y is for You Remind Me of Me

You Remind Me of Me by Dan Chaon

March 24, 1977

Jonah was dead for a brief time before the paramedics brought him back to life. He never talks about it, but it's on his mind sometimes, and he finds himself thinking that maybe it's the central fact of the rest of his life, maybe it's what set his future into motion. HE thinks of the fat cuckoo clock in his grandfather's living room, the hollow thump of weights and the dissonant guitar thrum of springs as the little door opened and the bird popped out; he thinks of his own hear, which was stopped when they got to him and then suddenly lurched forward, no one knew why, it just started again right around the time they were preparing to pronounce him deceased.

____________________________

This was late March 1977, in South Dakota, a few days after his sixth birthday .

_____________________________

If his memory were a movie, the camera would begin high in the air. In a movie, he think, you would see his grandfather's little house from above, you would see the yellow school bus coming to a stop at the edge of the long gravel road. Jonah had been to school that day. He had learned something, perhaps several things, and he rode home in a school bus. There were papers in his canvas knapsack, handwriting and addition and subtraction tables that the teacher had graded neatly with red ink, and a picture of an Easter egg that he'd colored for his mother. He sat on a green vinyl seat near the front of the bus and didn't even notice that the bus had stopped because he was deeply interested in a hole that someone had cut in the seat with a pocketknife; he was peering into it, into the guts of the seat, which were made of metal springs and stiff white hay.

So, what do you think? Should I read it soon or give it away?

X is for Trinity Six

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X
Welcome to today’s post for the A to Z Blogging Challenge. For each day, I’ll be sharing the opening paragraphs to a book that starts with that letter and is sitting on my shelves or my Kindle. X is one of those tough letters, so today’s book title actually ends with it instead.

X is for Trinity Six

The Trinity Six by Charles Cumming

"The dead man was not a dead man. He was alive but he was not alive. That was the situation."

Calvin Somers, the nurse, stopped at the edge of the towpath and looked behind him, back along the canal. He was a slight man, as stubborn and petulant as a child. Gaddis came to a halt beside him.

"Keep talking," he said.

"It was the winter of 1992, and ordinary Monday night in February." Somers took and apple from his coat pocket and bit into it, chewing over the memories. "The patient's name was Edward Crane. It said he was seventy- six on his notes, but none of us knew what was true and what wasn't. He looked midsixties to me." They started walking again, black boots pressing through the mud. "They'd obviously worked out it was best if they admitted him at night, when there were fewer people around, when the day staff had gone off shift."

"Who's 'they'?" Gaddis asked.

"The spooks." A mallard lifted off the canal, quick wings shedding water as he turned towards the sun. "Crane was brought in on a stretched, unconscious, just after ten on the evening of the third. I was ready for him. I'm always ready. He bypassed A and E and was put straight into a private room off the ward. The chart said he had no next of kin and wasn't to be resuscitated in the event of a cardiac arrest. Nothing unusual about that. Far as anyone was concerned, this was just another old man suffering from late-stage pancreatic cancer. Hours to live, liver failure, toxic. At least, that was the story MI6 was paying us to pedal."

So, what do you think? Should I read it soon or give it away?

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