The Page of the Day

Susan here, looking out on a snowy, lovely morning, very early. It’s cold and dark yet, with big snowflakes swirling down in the quiet. I’m surrounded by books, some I’m currently reading and some I’ve written. I’ve staring at a stack of books acquired recently as gifts and via gift cards, and I’m wondering if my TBR pile will ever diminish – on the other hand, why let it get smaller?

Take one or two from the top and read them; add three or four more; tug one or two from the bottom, because they look so great and I’d almost forgotten they were there; and so the reading goes.  

Do you, too, have a teetering pile of books, new and sorta old?  Want to share the current book or two with the rest of us? I'll pick a page from among the books scattered on the table here, and choose a paragraph to share. Today's date can determine the page: Friday, January 21: page 121.

So today I'll choose two books: one that I’ve written, and another that I’m reading.

Page 121, Queen Hereafter: A Novel of Margaret of Scotland – the page opens to a scene in which Eva, a female bard and kinswoman of Lady Macbeth, is introduced in the court of King Malcolm and Queen Margaret:

    Distant thunder rolled outside, and the hearth flames flickered in a draft. Eva felt a quick chill, as if she had walked into a moment of great import in her life. She heard a few murmurs and whispers as she crossed the length of the room. Ruari walked beside her, strong and quiet, neither a step ahead nor a step behind, as it should be.

    The queen smiled, and King Malcolm sat forward with keen interest. To Margaret’s left, Prince Edgar ceased his conversation with his sister, the princess Cristina, and sat straighter. “Who is this?” he asked, his voice so clear that Eva suddenly realized how very quiet the hall had become. “She is lovely."

    "The Moray princess, “ Margaret’s sister said.

Page 121 from Cleopatra: A Life, by Stacy Schiff – this page opens to a presentation of some of Cicero’s observations of Cleopatra:

    Cicero had already devoted more time than he would have liked to Egyptian affairs. They had about them always a whiff of dishonor. He had in Cleopatra’s youth hoped to be named envoy to her father’s court but worried about how history, and respectable Rome, might view that posting. Cicero had as well a vexed history with women. He had long complained that he first wife had too much taste for public affairs and too little for domestic ones. Having just rid himself of one strong minded, strong willed woman, he had no taste for another. . .

    “The arrogance of the Queen herself when she was living on the estate across the Tiber makes my blood boil to recall,” Cicero fumed in mid-44. On that count he had met his match. He admitted to “a certain foolish vanity to which I am somewhat prone.”  

To be honest I haven’t read this far in the book yet. I’m still in the early chapters and I'm absolutely fascinated by the subject, the depth of research and insight, and the quality and ease of the writing.

Now it's your turn – what’s stacked on your desk or nightstand, what’s toppled on the floor beside the sofa? Pick a book you’re currently reading (or one you’ve written!), and share a paragraph or so from page 121, today’s date. If you’re in Australia, like Wench Anne Gracie, and it happens to be the next day -- share something from page 122.  

I'm looking forward to seeing what you all choose to share -- it's a great chance for all of us to dip into some books that we may not have read, but may want to after we've read the various paragraphs! Not that I need to add to the TBR pile -- but if we get more snowy days like this, I'll have a better chance of getting through the fall and winter acquisitions. . . 

Happy reading!

~Susan

 

Comments

[Amy Kathryn]

What a fun idea! I have so many to choose from in the little fortress of books I have built around my comfy reading chair. Closing my eyes and reaching....

Page 121 in The Long Quiche Goodbye by Avery Aames

Jordan was standing on the porch talking to an attractive woman who had moved to Providence only last week. Grandmere had promised to get me the dirt on her but had yet to do so. I didn't know what the woman did for a living. She didn't own a shop in town. She didn't have a husband or a pet or any children, as far as my snoopy grandmother could tell. With a solid build, strong features, and athletic forearms, she looked like the kind of woman who could wrestle a Wall Street broker to the ground at the end of a day of heavy trading. Grandmere and I teasingly called her Mystery Woman.

[Kristine]

From An Impartial Witness by Charles Todd:

"If you could ask among her friends? It could lead somewhere."
"Yes, by all means. I'm ashamed now that I didn't do something. You're very brave to take on this search. It should have been me."
But she hadn't wanted to know.
I told her how she could contact me and thanked her.
Sadly, we were still no closer to finding Marjorie's killer.
I was outside on the pavement, preparing to crank the motorcar, when I realized that she hadn't asked me if Marjorie was pregnant. Did she already know? Or was this something else she didn't want to hear?

[Liz]

From The Lady Elizabeth by Alison Weir

'Never, Sire!' cried Katherine. 'I did not say I believed her innocent, only that a ten-year-old child believes it. And I pray you to consider her youth, and the fact that it is her mother of whom we speak.'
'Nevertheless she must learn her lesson,' stated the king harshly. 'And there's an end to the matter.'

[Helen]

Susuan
This is such a great idea I love it. I too have a really big TBR pile and always have lots to choose from. All romance different genres.
I am reading Nalini Singh's Play of Passion at the moment and I will put a passage from page 122 seeing as how I am in Australia,
Out of the fire had been forged the steel of Indigo's nature. She loved her sister, her family, but she wouldn't easily allow anyone else close enough to create the depth of vulnerability in her heart.
Next I am reading Christmas at Candlebark Farm by Michelle Douglas
The thought of leaving,though,darkened her day for a moment. She shrugged it off.She had a wonderful future to look forward to.That was what she had to focus on.

I am off to The Aust Romance Readers Asscoiation Convention in March and I am trying to read as many books as I can by authors that will be attending, and seeing as how there will be about 35 authors there I still have a few to catch up on. I need more time LOL

Have Fun
Helen

[Diane]

From "The Nabob's Widow" by Elsie Lee: "'Good God, said the Marquess of Dartford, plunging for the bell rope ad tugging wildly, "Yes, all RIGHT, old boy, as Ping trotted back and forth anxiously, 'I'm doin' my best. Where the devil is everyone?' He went across to revive the flickering fire--and there was one kitten in the basket beside Poona. She was busily cleaning it up. 'Good girl!' Hugo said automatically, and went back to pull the rope once more. 'Hell and damnation, why doesn't someone answer?' Poona began squeaking again...and shortly there was a second kitten."

A fun story.

Diane

[LouisaCornell]

What a neat idea! Here is a snippet from page 121 of my latest manuscript. I am deep into rewrites of it, but I think I'll keep this bit.

“These people respect no one, Miss Warren. Not Millicent, not you and certainly not me. I suggest you remember that before they turn their teeth from feasting on crab salad and start in on you.” He pushed past her and headed toward the door into the corridor. People fell back as if he were the grim reaper himself. What did he care? His life continued to spin out of control and at the center of it stood a waif of a woman with far more spirit and passion than was safe for her or for him. He needed to get away from the cloying scent of insincere solicitude and outright voyeurism, but more than anything he needed to put as much distance between him and Sally Warren as possible.

“Lord Ashworth, stop. Wait.”

Cain hesitated a moment and then walked on to the top of the stairs. A wizened staidly dressed man of more than middling years handed his coat and hat to the butler and started up the Turkish carpeted staircase.

“Lord Ashworth, I’m speaking to you.” For a lady’s companion, Sally had the voice of a duchess and the tenacity of a terrier.

“Miss Warren,” Cain spun on his heel so quickly she nearly ran into him. “You ordered me out of the house. I am doing my best to accommodate you.”

[Janice]

Kristine, that's funny, as I picked up the first Charles Todd book to read while I ate tonight. I am now trying to figure out if there ever was a real Hamish at any point. Very evocative of time and place.

[Joanna Waugh]

What a fun idea! Here's my contribution from page 121 of my Regency,"Blind Fortune."

Charles couldn't remember when he'd been more furious.

From the moment he and Richard crossed Almack's threshold, he'd been forced to endure knowing looks and snide remarks concerning the incident on Old Bond Street. The sexual innuendos had particularly galled him, especially the suggestion he'd wrestled Lady Fortuna to the pavement merely to avail himself of a surreptitious grope. Worse yet, on the stairs leading up to the ballroom, Charles learned that wagers about his real matrimonial target were being entered into the betting books of all the gentlemen's clubs. Lady Jersey seemed to speak for every scandalmonger in London when she wryly observed that perhaps Fortuna Morley would be the one to stand up with him in St. George's, Hanover Square.

[theo]

Always a day late and a dollar short lately!

This is page 121 of my "it will never see a publisher's desk" ms ;o) and I've been revising the whole thing for a few days now.

She fussed with her skirts as if trying not to let any part of her within touching distance. Her eyes burned bright when flustered, and judging from the fire in them, he feared, should she glare at him long enough, he might burst into flame. He gave her a devilish wink and turned to Greg, whose eyes narrowed, indicating his own awareness of Connal’s pestering.

As they spoke, Connal made certain to draw Anna into their discussion. Intelligent and well informed, she participated comfortably, as no other woman he knew could. Most tended to wander into another room to discuss whatever it was that women…discussed. Connal had no real idea and wasn’t interested. But he was very interested in knowing all of Anna’s thoughts and ideas.

Their conversation continued for some time, when a pleasant lull occurred.

“Say, Con. Getting awfully late now. Spend the night? Can tell the groom to bed your horse down.”

“I’d be delighted, Greg. Thanks. But I should care for Odin. He’ll not take kindly to someone he doesn’t know, though I am aware the groom who took him from me tonight has a bit of experience with him from my previous visit. Enough spine anyway to lead him to a stall.” He would find it surprising if the groom had managed to remove Odin’s saddle, and smiled to himself.

“Something funny, Con?”

“Ah, no, just curious if I’ll still find Odin saddled when I reach the stables.”

“Groom hasn’t treated him properly, have him punished—”

“No! Greg, no. Odin can turn into a handful, and trust me; he’s spent many a long hour wearing his harness and such. It’s his own fault. He’s too temperamental for his own good. I don’t want anyone blamed for my horse’s ill temper.”

Gregory shook his head and frowned. “Fine, don’t want trouble though. Horse mistreated, want to know immediately. Won’t put up with guests having problems.”

Anna gave her cousin a scathing look. “Greg, you forget yourself. This is my home after all. I think I’m perfectly capable of—”

Connal had a different agenda in mind than to listen to the two of them argue over his horse. Although it would appear cheeky, he interrupted Anna. “Odin will be fine. Not to worry.”

The argument ceased before it could get out of hand and he took a sip of his brandy to allow tempers to cool before he broached the subject most important to him. It needed to be said, and the sooner the better. Looking to Greg, he asked, “Did you think any more about what we discussed this morning?” He knew Greg’s fury at his bringing the subject up would be swift but would face it for Anna’s sake. Greg had come this holiday with the intention of telling her everything, and it would become harder to do the longer he waited.

“I did,” came the grumbled reply, “But now isn’t the time to discuss it.”

“So when? The longer you wait—”

“Not now, Connal!”

Anna sat awestruck through their exchange. She’d never heard her cousin so angry. Even earlier in the day, when she felt his ire, his tone held a difference. This time it carried an underlying note of…fear. Did he have problems with his business ventures? Perhaps he and Connal were not getting along. Desperate to know the details, she knew better than to interrupt with questions.

But it seemed she would get no answers tonight as each man glared at the other. When Greg broke the silence he held a look of resignation. He raised his glass and sipped.
“Soon, Con. Not now, but soon.”

And since I've not felt good today, I've been reading too from Frostfire by Lynn Viehl (fabulous and so NOT what I write or usually read) but this is page 120 because I haven't gotten this far and this was complete.

"That's the direction they went," Lilah said, nodding toward the dark smears still visible in the snow.

He filled his chest again, this time focusing on the smell of death. "No. They went west." He pointed to the lower peak of the pass. "That way."

Something flickered in her eyes. "You can smell their trail."

"Yes." He was frightening her, he realized, but if they were to survive this, he would have to do whatever was necessary--even lie to her. "It must be part of how they changed me, with the drugs."

Her expression cleared. "I didn't think of that. Sorry." She glanced over at the trees and shuddered. "We really need to get out of here."

He took her hand in his. "We'll follow the road into the pass. Be ready to take cover." He glanced down at their hands. "Can you keep us warm?"

She nodded, and a moment later he felt the now-familiar twining sensation spreading up from their hands. All around them the icy ground began to thaw.

[Wendy]

From Mary Jo Putney's "Never Less Than A Lady"..."She found the situation too shameful to discus wih anyone else. She was Lady Julia Raines, Vicountess Branford and she would not reveal her weakness."

[Susan]

Oh yeah, I love these samples - great reading choices, very interesting! These titles are going on my list for my next trip to the bookstore. And we have excellent writers among our blog readers -- thanks for giving us a peek at your work.

It's 1/22 so I'll include a bit from the book I'm reading tonight:
Mockingjay, Suzanne Collins, page 122:

"The birds are waiting for me to continue. But that's it. Last verse. In the stillness I remember the scene. I was home from a day in the woods with my father. Sitting on the floor with Prim, who was just a toddler, singing "The Hanging Tree." Making necklaces out of scraps of old rope, like it said in the song, not knowing the real meaning of the words."

I've really enjoyed this series, and I'm nearly done with Mockingjay... what's next in the reading pile?

BTW, I love what Amy Kathryn said - a little fortress of books around her comfy reading chair. What a perfect description!

~Susan

[Jean M.]

A novel in three parts. by Julia Quinn, Eloisa James, & Connie Brockway. The Lady Most Likely...page 122.."It was a proposal." He pulled away, just far enough so that he might actually breathe. "Clumsy, I know, but-" He tried to sink to one knee but found that he hadn't the balance, so instead he just kind of leaned funny. "Will you marry me?"........Finally she looked up, and said, "Really?" He nodded. She nodded.

What a hoot that was fun & funny!!