Sunday, 8 December 2013
A Matter of Choice by Nora Roberts
This sentence needs more than a man frowning at the toe of his shoe. Though it is a little unusual. I mean how do shoes have toes? Actually, I know what is meant, but clarity is a writer's friend.
The next sentence:
He'd been frowning since the summons...had reached him in the squad room that morning.
That's a lot of frowning. I guess, that's what happens when you spend too much time staring at your shoe's toe. The plot in paragraph 2 backs up a little with back story.
Fall touched the trees and stung the air.
A weather report as told by Lord Byron on acid.
Against the hard blue sky, the colors were vibrant.
Sorry, make that Lord Bryon on Ecstasy.
First thing said:
Ultimately, reading this will be a matter of choice. Mine: