But here's the first of my Friday First Paragraph's...
This book was picked up at the weekend from a high street bookstore just hours after I vowed not to buy any more books until I'd cleared some room on my TBR shelves.
I know very little about it, and it's purchase was an experiment in buying something I'd not heard about, seen blogged or recommended and from an author I'd not read before, so something a little out of my comfort zone. I was relieved to see afterwards it has very positive reviews on Amazon, so I'm feeling OK about it.
The Universe versus Alex Woods by Gavin Extence.
They finally stopped me at Dover as I was trying to get back into the country. I was half expecting it, but it still came as kind of a shock when the barrier stayed down. It's funny how some things can be so mixed up like that. Having come this far I'd started to think that I might make it the whole way home after all. It would have been nice to have been able to explain things to my mother. You know: before anyone else had to get involved.
It was 1 a.m., and and it was raining. I'd rolled Mr Peterson's car up to the booth in the 'Nothing to Declare' lane, where a single customs officer was on duty. His weight rested on his elbows, his chin was cupped in his hands, and, but for this crude arrangement of scaffolding, his whole body looked ready to fall like a sack of potatoes to the floor. The graveyard shift - dreary dull from dusk till dawn - and for a few heartbeats it seemed that the customs officer lacked the willpower necessary to rotate his eyeballs and check my credentials. But then the moment collapsed. His gaze shifted; his eyes widened. He signalled for me to wait and spoke into his walkie-talkie, rapidly and with obvious agitation. That was the instance I knew for sure. I found out later that my picture had been circulated in every major port from Aberdeen to Plymouth. With that and the TV appeals, I never stood a chance.