It's been over a year since my last post about the importance of opening lines when choosing a new book to read. I read a fair few books in 2018 ๐, so I thought it was about time I shared some more recommendations. These are YA books I purchased solely due to their brilliant opening lines. It's an eclectic list in terms of genre, but as before, all the books have one thing in common: I made the decision to read them before I'd reached the end of the first page.
The events in this book are real. Names and places have been changed to protect the Lorien Six, who remain in hiding. Take this as your first warning. Other civilizations do exist. Some of them seek to destroy you.
I Am Number Four, by Pittacus Lore
Most people find the forest frightening, believing the old tales of fairies who will freeze the time in your blood, or witches who can spill your years out over the snow with only a whisper. [...] I know better than to be afraid of stories. The forest holds real danger—thieves who lie in wait, crude knives and alchemic powder on their belts, to steal time from anyone venturing outside the safety of the village. We call them bleeders.
Everless, by Sara Holland
There are three requirements to earning a mage’s name among the Jan’Tep. The first is the strength to defend your family. The second is the ability to wield the high magics that protect our people. The third is simply to reach the age of sixteen. I was a few weeks shy of my birthday when I learned that I wouldn’t be doing any of those things.
Spellslinger, by Sebastien de Castel
The matriarch of House Kore was running late for a dinner. In the normal course of things, she did not care for punctuality. Punctuality, with its unseemly whiff of eagerness, was for peasants. And she was neither a peasant nor eager to endure a meal with the mongrel heir of House Nyx.
“What is taking my carriage so long?” she yelled down the hall.
If she arrived too late, she would invite rumors. Which were a great deal more pesky and unseemly than punctuality.
The Gilded Wolves, by Roshani Chokshi
Only fools climbed to the surface. It was stupid to put yourself in danger like that, my mother always said. Not only were there near-constant debris showers from the rubble belt, but you never knew when the Krell would attack. Of course, my father travelled to the surface basically every day—he had to, as a pilot. I supposed by my mother’s definition that made him extra foolish, but I always considered him extra brave.
Skyward, by Brandon Sanderson
Eliza Mirk is the kind of name you give to the creepy girl who clings to her ex-boyfriend for weeks after he’s dumped her because she refuses to accept that he hates her guts. Eliza Mirk is a low-level villain with a secret hideout in the sewers. Eliza Mirk belongs in a comic book.
But Eliza Mirk is me.
Eliza and Her Monsters, by Francesca Zappia
Aliens are stupid.
I’m not talking about real aliens. The Others aren’t stupid. The Others are so far ahead of us, it’s like comparing the dumbest human with the smartest dog. No contest. No, I’m talking about the aliens inside our heads. [...] You know, the aliens we imagine, the kind of aliens we’d like to attack us, human aliens.
The 5th Wave, by Rick Yancey
Down a path worn into the woods, past a stream and a hollowed-out log full of pill bugs and termites, was a glass coffin. It rested right on the ground, and in it slept a boy with horns on his head and ears as pointed as knives.
As far as Hazel Evans knew, from what her parents said to her and from what their parents said to them, he’d always been there. And no matter what anyone did, he never, ever woke up.
The Darkest Part of the Forest, by Holly Black
Destiny sucks.
Sure, it can be all heart bursting and undeniable and Bollywood dance numbers and meet me at the Empire State building. Except when someone else wants to decide who I’m going to sleep with for the rest of my life. Then destiny is a bloodsucker, and not the swoony, sparkly vampire kind.
Love, Hate & Other Filters, by Samira Ahmed
I have forgotten.
When I first opened my eyes I saw a room of white stone, and the light was bright, too bright, coming into the room from two high windows. I have never been so afraid. I don’t know this room. I don’t know this girl who woke with me, or these children who cry, their faces streaked with black lines. They’ve forgotten, too. But this book was tied to my wrist, and the book says I have a family, and that my family will be marked with dye so I’ll know them. I think I have to believe the book.
The Forgetting, by Sharon Cameron
How much do you read of a book before you decide to buy it? Have I persuaded you to give any of the above books a closer look based on their opening lines? I hope you find lots of great reads in 2019, and thank you for stopping by my blog today!
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