First Lines Fridays is a weekly feature for book lovers hosted by Wandering Words. What if instead of judging a book by its cover, its author or its prestige, we judged it by its opening lines? If you want to make your own post, feel free to use or edit the banner above, and follow the rules below:
- Pick a book off your shelf (it could be your current read or on your TBR) and open to the first page
- Copy the first few lines, but don’t give anything else about the book away just yet – you need to hook the reader first
- Finally… reveal the book!
If you’re using Twitter, don’t forget to use #FirstLinesFridays!
Welcome to my very first First Lines Fridays 🥳🎉 . I’ve only been part of the book blogging community for a short while and I absolutely love reading all of my fellow bloggers Friday posts. Now I want to give it a go. This book is my very first read of one of my favorite authors and it’s bound for a re-read soon. Enjoy!
THE FIRST LINE
Ignatius Martin Perrish spent the night drunk and doing terrible things.
A FEW MORE LINES
He woke the next morning with a headache, put his hands to his temples, and felt something unfamiliar, a pair of knobby pointed protuberances. He was so ill – wet-eyed and weak – he didn’t think anything of it at first, was too hungover for thinking or worry.
Do you know the book?
HORNS, BY JOE HILL
Ignatius Perrish spent the night drunk and doing terrible things. He woke up the next morning with a thunderous hangover, a raging headache . . . and a pair of horns growing from his temples.
At first Ig thought the horns were a hallucination, the product of a mind damaged by rage and grief. He had spent the last year in a lonely, private purgatory, following the death of his beloved, Merrin Williams, who was raped and murdered under inexplicable circumstances. A mental breakdown would have been the most natural thing in the world. But there was nothing natural about the horns, which were all too real.
Once the righteous Ig had enjoyed the life of the blessed: born into privilege, the second son of a renowned musician and younger brother of a rising late-night TV star, he had security, wealth, and a place in his community. Ig had it all, and more—he had Merrin and a love founded on shared daydreams, mutual daring, and unlikely midsummer magic.
But Merrin’s death damned all that. The only suspect in the crime, Ig was never charged or tried. And he was never cleared. In the court of public opinion in Gideon, New Hampshire, Ig is and always will be guilty because his rich and connected parents pulled strings to make the investigation go away. Nothing Ig can do, nothing he can say, matters. Everyone, it seems, including God, has abandoned him. Everyone, that is, but the devil inside. . .
This is my favorite cover of this book, and is what my paperback looks like. Just beautiful 😊
Have you read it and if so what do you think? If you haven’t read it, do these lines peak your Internet?
Happy reading 😘