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Tuesday Teaser - tempt us with your current read!
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The Long Call by Ann Cleeves
'He looks a lot more like a body rolled in a rug than I was hoping.' Ella observed quietly as she and Alma inspected their handiwork. 'Let's hope we don't run into any neighbours or the next tenant meeting will be hell.'Dead Man Switch by Tara Moss
“We need nurses to work on the infectious ward, which is now overflowing with typhoid cases; we need nurses like you who can work there and not get infected.”“Is that all?” she says, with a strange mix of fear and relief.
He looks surprised. “Well, what did you think we would be doing to you?”
“I don’t know … injecting me with the disease to see how I fared?”
Petre cannot keep the shock from his face. He looks away, speechless.
Cilka's Journey by Heather Morris
Marianne wrote: "'He looks a lot more like a body rolled in a rug than I was hoping.' Ella observed quietly as she and Alma inspected their handiwork. 'Let's hope we don't run into any neighbours or the next tenant..."I have this one on reserve at the library - there are going to be 4 copies and I am the only reservation so far
Sally906 wrote: "Marianne wrote: "'He looks a lot more like a body rolled in a rug than I was hoping.' Ella observed quietly as she and Alma inspected their handiwork. 'Let's hope we don't run into any neighbours o..."Sally, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did
The Girl in Red by Christina HenryEight-year-old Riley asks Red:
‘How come you walk funny?’ Riley asked. ‘Is your leg hurt?’
‘I have a bit of a limp because I have a prosthetic leg.’
‘Prosthetic?”
Red stopped and pulled up her pant leg so Riley and Sam could see the metal tube at her ankle. Riley’s eyes lit up so bright that Red thought she saw stars in them.
‘You’re a cyborg?’ he asked.
Uncle Bill had a system. He ate everything evenly so that each different food on his plate disappeared at the same rate. This included whatever he was drinking. There was never more of one thing than another, and his last mouthful always included a bit of everything. Luděk had tried to copy this system a few times, but it was no good. What if you got full and you wasted your belly space eating cabbage ? You might have to leave a dumpling behind, and someone else might eat it before you found room again. It was better to eat your favourite food first. All of it. Then your second favourite, and then the rest. Luděk ate his schnitzel first, all of it. The adults got two and he got one and there were no more left.There Was Still Love by Favel Parrett
… one of those conversations – fairly common, in his experience – that proved most crims were idiots.A man came in and said, ‘I was robbed’
Hirsch tutted in sympathy, pen poised. ‘Name and address, please, sir.’
Tony Alford, a street behind the old railway station.
‘And what was stolen?’
‘All of my weed.’
Alford was one of those men or women so tall they stand at a slant. About forty, greasy hair, three-day growth and bony arms and shoulders inside a Redruth High School polo shirt. His son’s? Op shop? Grimy jeans barely clinging to his hipless middle.
‘Your weed was stolen,’ Hirsch said.
‘All of it. In pots on the back veranda.’
‘Your weed.’
‘You know, grass,’ Alford said. ‘Dope.’
His eyes hadn’t alighted on Hirsch or anything else in the police station. He was so twitchy, Hirsch couldn’t stand it. ‘You do know there are laws against growing it?’
Alford knew his rights. Folded his arms and stated that there were also laws against stealing.
Might as well roll up the whole drug empire while I’m about it, Hirsch thought. ‘Do you happen to know who might have done it?’
But Alford shrugged. ‘That’s for you to find out.’
‘How much weed are we talking about?’
‘Three pot plants.’ Alford sniggered. ‘Three pots of pot.’
‘Perhaps,’ Hirsch said, ‘we can send in our forensic team and go right over your property, inside and out, collecting fingerprints and other samples for the lab.’
A late-dawning gleam of awareness in Alford’s glassy eyes now. ‘No, she’s right, I’ll put it down to experience,’ he said, hurrying out and down the street.
Hirsch entered it in the log.
Peace by Garry Disher
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‘It’s not a bucket list,’ I said , as we resumed walking, ‘but I suppose there was something about losing Mum. Well. We don’t have an infinite amount of time, do we?’ Rose laughed. ‘Did you only just realise that?’
‘No, but it used to be kind of an abstract notion. Then suddenly it was a real and constant threat. I’d be at Waitrose, for instance—’
‘I too always have my most metaphysical revelations at Waitrose. Aldi just doesn’t cut it.’
‘Shut up. And I’d be wheeling my trolley round thinking, how many more times will I do this?’
‘You could get online delivery, you know.’
‘And it wasn’t, how many more times will I do this, as in, what a bore. It was, this is a reasonably pleasurable part of my week, and how many more times will I get to do it?’
‘No wonder you wanted to leave home, if the supermarket shop was a highlight.’
The Missing Letters of Mrs Bright by Beth Miller
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Standing in the living room, Margot can see the marquee through the window, the white fabric billowing ghostlike among the trees. This time tomorrow, Lucy will be married and the house will be filled with the commotion and revelry of family and strangers. For now it is silent, just her, the ticking clock, the cat stretching on the sofa and her mother hidden somewhere in the house.
The River Home by Hannah Richell
I'm currently reading Den of Wolves by Juliet Marillier. It's the last book in the Blackthorn and Grimm trilogy. Enjoying it so far.
I'm not really one for lyrical stuff, but I really like this from Below Deck by Sophie Hardcastle:'She told me that we are like rivers, all of us. We begin as clouds, an then one day, we rain down and become a trickle. We grow into a stream ... thicken into a river. We travel great distances, wind through all kinds of valleys and forests. Sometimes we come together with other rivers, flow together, swirl together in great lakes, part ways, flow alone ... But we all meet again in the end at the river mouth, where we empty into the sea.'
I just remembered this conversation and I thought I would stop by:...I walked very leisurely forward. I found that side of the island, where I now was, much pleasanter than mine, the open or savanna fields sweet, adorned with flowers and grass, and full of very fine woos.
pg 81 Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe
From
Eight Perfect Murders by Peter SwansonBooks are time travel. True readers all know this. But books don’t just take you back to the time in which they were written; they can take you back to different versions of yourself.
Aussie Readers
Books mentioned in this topic
Eight Perfect Murders (other topics)Robinson Crusoe (other topics)
Below Deck (other topics)
Den of Wolves (other topics)
The River Home (other topics)
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Authors mentioned in this topic
Peter Swanson (other topics)Daniel Defoe (other topics)
Sophie Hardcastle (other topics)
Hannah Richell (other topics)
Beth Miller (other topics)
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"Like stealing the Crown Jewels," Karin said. "I get it."
"No," Mai said. "More like stealing the Queen, her family and her palace."
"So just say we're at Keanu level," Alicia said. "That'll do."
Mai shook her head. "Keanu level?"
"America's greatest national treasure," Alicia spread her hands as if the answer were obvious.
"I thought that was David Boreanaz?"
"I'd take either," Alicia admitted. "Or both."
From Four Sacred Treasures by David Leadbeater