I woke up this morning with my daughter's feet in my face. It happens sometimes. I gently kissed her, trying not to wake her, and proceeded to get my day started. And here I am . . .
For months now I have not listened to my audio book, but last week I finally dove back into it. Well, maybe dove isn't the right word. I am able to listen to an audio book about half an hour each day. One of the reasons I do not like to listen to long books. It feels like it takes me years to get through one. Fortunately, I had no problem picking up where I left off with Cutting For Stone by Abraham Verghese. The twins are school-aged now, being raised by a couple of doctors who took them in after their mother's death and their father fled; our narrator is as gregarious as can be while his brother says nothing. My goal is to finish the book by the end of the year.
After finishing The Maxwell Street Blues by Marc Krulewitch, about a young private investigator who takes on his first murder investigation, that of his best friend, and discovers corruption at every turn, I spent some time on Friday reading more of Michaela Carter's Further Out Than You Thought. Gwen, the female protagonist in the novel, unwittingly drove right into the heart of the L.A. Riots. The year is 1992. Her fear is palpable. The anger and sadness and frustration--and the fear--of those she encounters is all very real. I like the book so far.
I am also reading Joshilyn Jackson's Someone Else's Love Story, Jackson being an author on my "must read" list since forever. I have heard great things about this novel about a young mother, her three year old son and the man she falls in love with during a hold up. I can see why so many are smitten with the author's writing. It's still too early to tell, but I have a feeling I will really like this book.
What are you reading at the moment? Is it something you would recommend?
Every Tuesday Diane from Bibliophile By the Sea hosts
First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros, where
participants share the first paragraph (or a few) of a
book they are reading or thinking about reading soon.
Here is the opening paragraphs of The Maxwell Street Blues, the first in a new mystery series set in Chicago, by Marc Krulewitch:
"I feared you wouldn't know me."
His ashen face did not remind me of the quaint grifter or winsome confidence trickster. Nor did I see an aging racketeer broken by prison. But I knew Bernie Landau--my father. He found me through "contacts" who specialized in making sure people were found. He wore dingy gray slacks with an argyle cardigan sweater that draped his eighty-year-old frame as though slung over a wire hanger. His pasty cheeks sagged like someone had disfigured a clay face. In his hand he griped part of a rolled-up newspaper as if his sixteen-year absence had fostered an intense desire to smack me.
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