This one will be dedicated to a book’s page 69. I will post one or more sentences from the page that seem interesting/fun.
I started with this one in 2015 (May), and here is the backstory on how I got the idea: You all probably know that publishers often put something on the back to attract people. Something like turn to “insert page number”. Well, according to a writer’s 2006 book you should pick page 69 to determine if you want to read the book (Find Your Perfect Novel).
Friday’s Page 69 ~ The Obsession by Natasha Preston
I hope she lays off the exclamation marks in her applications. Isla might be ready for college but I’m not ready for her to go. It’s still over a year away, but I know time will fly by. Then it’ll just be me and Mom. A thought somehow more terrifying than randos knowing where I live.
Friday’s Page 69 ~ Enola Holmes and the Black Barouche by Nancy Springer
Dawson had a footman bring up my carpetbag and parasol and sent for a a maid named Jill. Listening to Dawson gave Jil some rather alarming instructions, I bent over so that neither would see what I was doing, slipped my dagger out of my corset and hid it deep in my carpetbag, firmly and silently assuring myself that it was unlikely Jill would discover that my bosom was filled with papers, pound notes, and other supplies; all should now be well.
Friday’s Page 69 ~ Hey, Jesus, It’s Me by Ellen Skrmetti
Hey, Jesus, it’s me. Listen, can you help my friend never know that she’s on cups and ice because she can’t cook? That’s right. Her dressin’ tastes like an eraser looks, and we can’t take it anymore, but we don’t want to hurt her feelings either. That’s right. We want the friendship but no the dressin’.
“I don’t like it in there at night,” she says.
“What?” I ask. A gust of wind lands like a kick in the teeth.
“In there. In the cottage. Too many windows. It’s creepy, don’t you think?”
The memory of my nightmare returns, heavy and searing, like someone has dropped a hot stove on my chest. Above me, behind me, is the window with a smear that looks like a handprint.
“Did you see something?” I say, my voice too high.
“Yeah. Too many horror movies. Obviously.”
Friday’s Page 69 ~ Paladin’s Hope by T. Kingfisher
This room looked slightly different from the others, the walls lined with round shapes that resembled a snail shell, each with a circular hole in the middle. Galen found himself gravitating to the corner despite Thomas’s reassurances. Not that the corner is necessarily safe, mind you. Earstripe had his shoulders hunched and kept pawing at his nose, although Galen couldn’t smell anything yet. Piper went to one of the round openings and peered into it, which was unsettling to watch. It’s not likely that there’s a spring-loaded arrow in there, or an eel that’s going to shoot out and latch onto his face, but there’s something about staring into holes…
It’s already hard enough to sleep with the noises. I’m still trying to get used to those.
Some of them are, I assume, normal for a ship of this age. Random popping sounds, like rivets giving way. A series of clicking noises above my head that might sound like sharp fingernails tapping loudly against the floor above is more likely some elderly apparatus attempting to reboot itself to functionality. Groans, loud and far too human-sounding at times, as the metal walls proest the temperature difference between the warmth inside versus the cold of space. Probably.
Friday’s Page 69 ~ The September House by Carissa Orlando
A puff of black mist started forming in the corner of the room. The bones began clattering on the floor.
I continued singing. “Ne’er shall you worry. Ne’er shall you mourn…”
Elias hissed into existence in the corner, face already black, teeth gleaming, jet-engine noise sounding. He was never a fan of the beginning of this process. He moved towards me. I skittered out of his reach, eyeing the bones as they trembled.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “But you know what? Come here, let me show you something.”
I followed him out to the parking lot. The two of us stood in front of Billy Bob’s old blue station wagon.
“See that sticker on my car?” Billy Bob asked, pointing to a shiny sticker on the driver’s side window.
I squinted at the words. It said Don’t Touch! Alarm System Installed!
Billy Bob leaned over, cupped his hand, and whispered into my ear, “There’s no alarm system.”
I smiled.
Friday’s Page 69 ~ Adam Destroys the Internet by Adam B, James Lancett
‘I still don’t have any signal, which is weird,’ said Callum, checking his phone again. ‘But if we can just get on to a computer I’ll see if I can get hold of Popularis, and ask to put everything back to normal, I promise, Adam.’
‘Ughhh, Callum, you still don’t get how Popularis works! He doesn’t come when you call him! He comes when he fels like it! It’s not like he’s your servant and you’re in charge! That’s the whole problem! You’re never in charge! Popularis is! Popularis is always in charge!’
Friday’s Page 69 ~ The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas
Much to my dismay, when my eyes opened up again, they tracked a towering figure that could only be one man.
‘Dammit, Rosie,’ I whispered with my arms still around her, making eye contact wit the approaching man. ‘We’ve summoned him again.’
I watched Aaron Blackford close the distance with quick strides. His long legs stopped right in front of us. We were still hugging, so I peered at him over Rosie’s shoulder.
Aaron took in our embrace, looking somewhere between appalled and engrossed. I couldn’t be sure because he did a good job at hiding whatever he was thinking behind that infamous frown.
‘What? Who have we summoned?’ I heard Rosie say as we disentangled our arms from each other under Aaron’s attentive gaze.
‘Oh. Him,’ she whispered back.
