Hello Book Lovers!
TGIF, eh? That means it’s time for another Book Beginnings and a Friday 56. Like this:
Book Beginnings is a theme where readers share the first sentence (or couple of sentences) from your current read. It’s hosted by Rose City Reader every Friday.
The Friday 56 is hosted by Frida’s Voice. Share a few sentences from page 56 or 56% into your current read. Sound good? Perfect! Cuz here we go:
This week our Book Beginning and Friday 56 are from one book, The King’s Shadow, by M.L. Farb.
“Snik. Metal sliding against metal pulled me from a shallow sleep. Another snik. The window latch clicked, and the night air pushed in, along with weak moonlight.
Should I call for my guards?
A dark form slipped in the window.
No. It would pinpoint my position.
I tensed my body and waited.
Page 56, also from The King’s Shadow, Book 2 in The King Trials:
The chuckles died in his throat, and his eyes widened like a spooked animal. “No – you can’t – I won’t- you deserve more than early widowhood.”
“You keep thinking you can make my choices for me. Marry Halavant, you say, but he’ll develop the slow wasting too. How is that any better? If I’m going to die a young widow, I’ll spend my years before it with you. But you won’t die. I won’t let you.”
About The King’s Shadow:
Two princes lead a war-broken people.
One rules while the other serves in the shadows, haunted by encroaching death.
Halavant overthrew his queen mother to save his people from slavery, and now she seeks his life. Yosyph acts as the new king’s eyes and ears, but being invisible comes at great cost, and his life is slipping away.
To save his closest friend, Halavant travels to the land of the skin-carving Carani, leaving Yosyph to rule a troubled people despite his ill health and the nobles on the verge of rebellion.
Unless Halavant can survive in the land of his enemies to find a cure and Yosyph can unite the frightened and starving people against a second war, both will die and their budding democracy will crumble under a new tyrant.
The author asked for a review awhile back. We accepted. But by the time Mom got to it, the setting in which we were reading left a lot to be desired. As in: Mom read a sizeable chunk of this book in a hospital waiting room. You know. Those places that smell weird. Feature cold linoleum floors and lumbering elevators. Where fresh air and sunlight are as scarce as a slim sow and the rooms are crowded with furniture that came over on the Mayflower.
It’s also where stress and exhaustion pile up like hair balls from the neighbor’s cat.
Realizing this, we knew a fair review of this book was unlikely, given the context outlined above. We also knew we were unlikely to return to it any time soon for the same reason(s). So we’re highlighting it here instead.