These are the rules:
1. Grab a book, any book.
2. Turn to page 56, or 56% on your eReader.
3. Find any sentence (or a few, just don't spoil it) that grabs you.
4. Post it.
5. Add the URL to your post in the link on Freda's most recent Friday 56 post.
I'm also taking part in Book Beginnings, a weekly meme hosted by Rose City Reader. The rules are pretty simple - you share the first sentence or so and your initial thoughts, impressions, or whatever else it inspires. Don't forget to link up your post's url with Rose City Reader.
This week I'm spotlighting my current read, Thief of Lies (Library Jumpers #1) by Brenda Drake. You may remember that this made my Top Ten Tuesday: 2016 Debut Novels That I'm Looking Forward To from December 1st. The concept of this novel is completely awesome - magical knights jumping into libraries around the world to protect humans from the supernatural world. Doesn't that sound great? I'm about a third of the way through it and I think I'm liking the sound of that concept quite a bit more than the execution of it. It's really, really similar to City of Bones (The Mortal Instruments #1) by Cassandra Clare, but doesn't manage to be as interesting - probably because it seems so familiar. It isn't all bad, but I'm really hoping it picks up, the characters come into themselves and that it starts to do its own thing. We'll see.
Only God and the vendors at Haymarket wake early on Saturday mornings. The bloated clouds spattered rain against my faded red umbrella. I strangled the wobbly handle and dodged shoppers along the tiny makeshift aisle of Boston's famous outdoor produce market. The site, just off the North End, was totally packed and stinky. The fruits and vegetables for sale were rejects from nearby supermarkets - basically, they were cheap and somewhat edible. The briny smell of flesh wafted in the air around the fishmongers.
"I came to get you. Get dressed. Pack a change of clothes and anything else you may need." He skulked to the window, turned, and winked at me. "Me me in the cafe down the street."
"I'll tell you in the cafe."
My hand flew to my chest. "Am I in danger? Is Pop?"
"Not if you do as I ask."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I said sourly.
He straddled the windowsill. "Just hurry."
"You know, that window was locked."
"Yes, it was." He grinned and ducked through the open window, barely making a sound as he went down the fire escape.