FRIDAY POTPOURRI: BOOK BEGINNINGS & THE FRIDAY 56 — FEB. 10

Welcome to a potpourri of fun today as we share Book Beginnings, hosted by A Few More Pages; and as we showcase The Friday 56 with Freda’s Voice.

To join in, just grab a book and share the opening lines…along with any thoughts you wish to give us; then turn to page 56 and excerpt anything on the page.

Then give us the title of the book, so others can add it to their lists!

Today I’m excerpting from my next read, which I should start by the end of the day.  It has been on my stacks for quite awhile, but I’ve read and enjoyed other books by this author. It is Iodine, by Haven Kimmel.

About:   #1 New York Times bestselling author Haven Kimmel makes an exhilarating foray into psychological gothic territory with the electrifying story of a young woman emerging from layers of delusion, fantasy, and lies.

With her astounding intelligence, fierce independence, and otherworldly lavender eyes, college senior Trace Pennington makes an indelible impression even as questions about her past and her true identity hover over every page. From her earliest years, Trace turned away from her abusive mother toward her loving father. Within the twisty logic of abuse, her desperate love for him took on a romantic cast that persists to this day, though she’s had no contact with her family since she ran away from home years ago. She’s eked out an impoverished but functional existence, living in an abandoned house, putting herself through college—and leading a double life: at school she is Ianthe Covington, a young woman with no past.

Trace’s solitary life is upended when she and her literature professor fall in love. As it becomes apparent that he has his own dark secrets, she’s forced to face herself and her past. After recovering a horrific, long-suppressed memory, Trace finally copes with the fallout from her brutal childhood. This unique portrait of the psychological effects of trauma is tantalizing, shocking, and ultimately hopeful.

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Beginning:  (Dream Journal)

I never

I never had sex with my father but I would have, if he had agreed.  Once he realized how I felt he never again let me so much as lean against him while we watched television.  I was never allowed to rest my head in his lap, or hold his hand.

Okay…now I know that this will definitely be one of those psychological portraits of a character that has great dimension, most of which is probably twisted.  Shades of Joyce Carol Oates?

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P. 56: (Upon seeing her sister for the first time in awhile):  Trace couldn’t speak.  She stared at her sister openly, unwilling to disguise her shock.  Dusty, who was not as tall as Trace but at least an average height, appeared to weigh as much as a nine-year-old girl.

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Now I’m eager to see the excerpts you are sharing.  I hope you’ll come on by and leave your comments and links.