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Category: First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros

This post will be all about the first (or second and third) paragraph of a book I picked, or am currently reading.

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ There’s a Werewolf in My Tent!

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ There’s a Werewolf in My Tent!


When we found out that we were going on a school camping trip for FOUR WHOLE NIGHTS we were MEGA excited.
But that’s because we didn’t know about the WEIRD HOWLING at night and the GLOWING EYES and our PE teacher’s HAIRY LEGS.
And we DEFINITELY didn’t know that we were going to get LOST IN THE WILDERNESS and have to become SURVIVAL EXPERTS.

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ The Bear and the Nightingale

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ The Bear and the Nightingale


It was late winter in Northern Rus’, the air sullen with wet that neither rain nor snow. The brilliant February landscape had given way to the dreary gray of March, and the household of Pyotr Vladimirovich were all sniffling from the damp and thin from six weeks’ fasting on black bread and fermented cabbage. But no one was thinking of chilblains or runny noses, or even, wistfully, of porridge and roast meats, for Dunya was to tell a story.

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ A World Below

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ A World Below


The boy sat on a throne made of mushroom stalks and branches, slung together in an arching, triangular shape and lashed tight with vines. Thorns and brambles had been missed in the soldiers’ haste, and now they dug into his legs and back, pinching and twisting and sharp.
But the boy did not flinch. He was as motionless as the throne he sat upon.

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ The Darkest Minds

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ The Darkest Minds


When the white noise went off, we were in the Garden, pulling weeds.
I always reacted badly to it. It didn’t matter if I was outside, eating in the Mess Hall, or locked in my cabin. When it came, the shrieking tones blew up like a pipe bomb between my ears. Other girls at Thurmond could pick themselves up after a few minutes, shaking off the nausea and disorientation like the loose grass clinging to their camp uniforms. But me? Hours would pass before I was able to piece myself back together.
This time should have been no different.
But it was.