Today I'm featuring the opening paragraph from Fallen Beauty by Erika Robuck, which I borrowed from a friend.
Our quick breath encircled our heads in the late-winter air as he pulled me by the hand, through lines of Model Ts and Cadillac Coupes, toward the glow of the Colonial Theatre. My body coursed with elation and guilt, every bit as intoxicating as the rum drinks he's mixed for us out of the trunk of his car. The frenzy of the Jazz Age had overflowed from the cities into smaller towns like ours in music, film, fashion, and literature, resulting in restlessness and tension between generations and ideals. Fueled by the energy of the new, we had we had toasted our agreement: That night it was only us in the world, and we would live like it was ours.
What do you think? Would you continue reading?
The setting is New York in 1928, one of my most favorite. Add in historical poet Edna St. Vincent Millay, and this becomes a dream read for me.
What are you reading now or planning to read soon?