Last year, Quench posted a couple of blog posts promoting new and forthcoming titles by using extracts from page 99 of each book. I've seen this kind of idea in shops before. Chicken House have done it/are doing it very effectively on at least some of their books by saying 'read page....' on the back. I have bought at least one of their books as a result. So I thought I'd take a look at some of our May and June titles, and give you some tasters from page 99 of each. (Thank you, Quench Bookshop, Reading, for the idea!)
(Details of each book including extracts can be found at the foot of the post.)
Just before the doors started to close, they made it onto the elevator we'd just exited. I made eye contact with the man in the front of the elevator, and there was a sense of recognition. We both looked away before the doors slid shut.
Time had stopped for us, but the clock had just started for these men who were on a lifesaving mission. I looked at the aide who was with us, and I could see the horror on his face. I knew immediately who they were, and it was a sight we were never supposed to see.
The transplant team had come to collect Taylor's organs.
A long stretch upward brought us to a mountaintop several hours later. From there we could see our destination thirty miles away, a city lying in a long valley ringed with mountains. I-15 runs through Cedar City, and in the distance I could see the bridge I would cross over the interstate.
Little yellow sunflowers along the roadside brightened the journey. These little buttons of golden joy were also useful in determining wind direction, bending before the winds sweeping through the mountains. Along the last five miles to Cedar City, the pretty flowers bowed low in my direction as a strong headwind tried to blow me back to Nevada.
"I guess you'd probably like the wood chopped a little bit bigger than that." He forced a grin and nudged with his food one of the chips he'd managed to take off.
She nodded. "Yes. A bit bigger would be helpful."
Only then did he chance a glance at her. She seemed to be fighting back a smile.
"Go ahead. Laugh." His grin widened. "I deserve it. I can admit - I'm a complete imbecile."
Her smile broke free. And even though she didn't laugh, he could see the hint of laughter dancing in her eyes.
He had the feeling she wasn't used to smiling, much less laughing.
"I suppose after my performance today, you'd like to hand me back over to the duke?"
"Maybe I will." As soon as her return jest was out, she ducked her head, almost as if she feared his response.
Couldn't she see how much he enjoyed bantering with her? "If you must return me to the duke," he persisted, "then at least persuade him not to put me back in the dungeon."
Her gaze jerked up, and her smile faded. "You were in a dungeon?"
"Yes. And only hours away from losing my head."
"I can't tell you everything," Mom answered, "You have to feel your way along on this a little bit at a time. But I can tell you this. The Fallen One is the ancient adversary, the serpent who seduced Adam and Eve in the Garden. The morning star cast out of heaven. He goes by many names - some call him Satan, others call him the devil, still others call him Beelzebub or Lucifer or the Prince of Darkness. But whatever you call him, he is the tempter and the accuser of humanity. Like a shooting star he was flung from heaven, and since that day the angels refuse to even whisper his name. Any evil comes from him. He's behind it all, even the accident.
"Look at me," she continued, putting my face in her hands and turning my head towards hers. "That's on him, not you, do you hear me? Somewhere you got the idea that it was your fault. It wasn't. Sometimes bad things happen. You need to believe that, Sky."
It was a moment between a mother and a son that needed to take place. Lord knows, I wanted to believe her, I needed to believe her, but somehow I just couldn't. Things you've held onto for so long are hard to let go of, even if they're wrong.
As with most things, worry can have both a positive and a negative side to it. When, for example, our concerns focus on circumstances within our control and prompt us to take action to prevent something bad happening, worry can lead to productivity. Most of the time, though, we waste our energy worrying about things that are entirely out of our control or even our influence.
Just as with anger, anxiety can trigger our fight-or-flight response. Chronic worry damages our body. Studies have linked it with suppression of the immune system, digestive disorders, muscle tension, short-term memory loss, premature coronary artery disease, and heart attacks.
And consider this: 85 percent of the things we worry about
never happen. In addition, worrying about what might be supplants our trust in God. In essence, it moves us further from, instead of closer to, Jesus.
Taylor's Gift, PB, £8.99
Biking Across America, PB, £8.99
A Noble Groom, PB, £8.99
The Gate, PB, £8.99
Tempted, Tested, True, PB, £8.99
All titles also available in digital editions.
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