Hoppas alla har haft en fin midsommarhelg! Det har sannerligen jag, trots att det har varit ganska stillsamt har det varit intensivt. Förhoppningsvis hinner jag skriva det sedvanliga veckoinlägget under kvällen mellan varv i tvättstugan och varv i lasagnen. Och stickningen…
Veckans Smakebit kommer ur The ties that bind av Erin Kelly. Jag älskade hennes Grenar av gift och hade tänkt läsa He said / She said till Bokbubblarna i augusti, men det var visst denna jag hade laddat ner – så det är väl bara att köra. Detta är första biten ur prologen och jag får mer än lite lätta vibbar av Peter James och Roy Grace – men kanske är det för att vi befinner oss i Brighton…
”When Luke came round, he knew two things. Firsty, that he was still alive and secondly, that he was still in Brighton. In the initia seconds of consciousness he was more sure about the second thing than the first. It was the falling caw of the gulls, that seaside constant, that told him where he was, and the pain that told him that he was.
Think. Remember. Think.
There were too many obstacles to thought. The seared skin at his wrists and ankles, the thirst, the cold, his bursitng bladder, the muscle cramps, the stifling press of the bag over his head and the rough dry rasp of the gag between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. These agonies took it in turns to manifest themselves, circling relentlessly like horses on a beachside carousel. He had been hit on the back of the head, but the wound itself was strangely numb; he was more bothered by the itch where something sticky had dripped down the back of his beck, then cooled and dried.”
Ur The ties that bind av Erin Kelly, Hodder and Stoughton: 2014
Fler Smakebitar finns hos Astrid Terese!