روايات وقصص ضمن Best Opening Lines Of A Book

Surprisingly, it wasn't only a book but a novel about the relationship between a married man and his maid. With a smile on her face, she opened the book and the first line was already driving her crazy. She pushed her legs apart, her hand making way to her cunt. She closed her eyes, imagining Styx's hand on her body, tracing it down to the entrance of her cunt. She imagined him, pushing his fingers deep into her cunt, caressing her br****... "Styx..."

It was warm. Not the sharp urgent warmth of the tower flame or the pulsing heat of my wrist mark in moments of high feeling. Something older and quieter than that. The warmth of something that had been waiting in a dark place for a very long time and was simply relieved, in a way that had no urgency left in it, to finally be found. I opened it. --- The first page had no chapter heading. No introduction. No author named. Just a single line, written in ink so dark it was nearly black, in handwriting that was small and careful and had the particular quality of someone who wrote as though every word cost something and was therefore worth spending precisely:

Dean stiffened beneath me, his arms tightening instinctively. “Shit,” he hissed, voice low and urgent. I scrambled off his lap, his cum dripping down my thighs as I grabbed the phone. My hands were shaking. Dean stood up quickly, adjusting his sweatpants, his face tense with sudden panic. “Answer it,” he whispered, eyes wide. “Act normal.” I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice as I swiped to answer. “Hey, Mom,” I said, forcing a casual tone even though my legs were still trembling and I could feel Dean’s fresh load leaking out of me.

"Thank you." "The line you added at the very end," Evelyn continued. "The line about the kitchen knowing what it is—that is your first sentence and your last sentence." Aurora gripped the edge of the desk. "You want to build the entire narrative around that?" "Yes," the editor stated firmly. "The book begins with a kitchen that does not know yet. It ends with a kitchen that finally does. Everything in between is the process of knowing." "The process of knowing," Aurora whispered.

“That is the one that matters.” Elliot looked at him. “Yes,” he said. “It is.” Adrian walked out. Elliot picked up his phone and sent Sera a message. Nicole wants to meet. Tuesday. I will tell you about it after. Then: How is the book. Her reply came quickly. Seventeen pages now. The introduction is the hardest part. Same as the paper. You have to say what the whole thing means before the reader has seen it and that requires a particular faith in your own argument. A pause. Then: Do you have it. The faith.

I certainly did not anticipate a vicious Alpha to act in this manner. I opened the book and pulled a bulky chair to his bedside. I looked at him and replied, "Well, I suppose I'll do the talking since you're being such a bad host." I began reading aloud from the first page of the book. I read stiffly at first, not knowing how to speak in the motionless, silent room. The plot eventually drew me in, though. It was a story about an ancient warrior that was poetic, ferocious, and full of bizarre metaphors. My enjoyment of the Alpha was enhanced by the scribbled remarks in the margins.

I asked myself, making my way to the desk to pick up the book. The book felt light in my hands. As soon as I opened the book, a flood of light pooled out, blinding me for a brief moment. I threw the book down, but it was already too late. Everything began to spin, and then I was sucked into the words on the pages of the book.

But Emily didn't say anything. Back at their table, Jane opened a Tale of Two Cities to see how bad it was going to be. 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," read the opening line. Charles Dickens could have been talking about Jane's own life.

I found a book, called 'last time' I opened the book to a random page, somewhere in the middle and proceeded to read the first paragraph 'Jodie knew that Darren would look for her, even as she hid from him, she was crying quietly now, she was scared he would find her, she needed to escape but for some reason she couldn't blink, maybe it was the tears, maybe Darren drugged her, who knew, she soon heard footsteps, she covered her mouth so Darren could not hear her, she pleaded, in her mind, with the gods to save her' I closed the book, it seemed interesting, I carried the book to a comfortable looking green recliner, I sat down in the chair with my legs crossed underneath me, I opened the book