The Friday 56 is a weekly meme hosted over at Freda’s Voice. The rules are simple and go something like this.
1. Grab a book, any book.
2. Turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader (If you have to improvise, that’s ok.)
3. Find any sentence, (or a few, just don’t spoil it)
4. Post it.
5. Add the post url, not your blog url to the Linky.
6. Tweet it #Friday56 (not an official Freda’s Voice rule)
It doesn’t seem like it’s been a little over 3 months since my last entry, but it has. Anyway this weeks Friday 56 is from Jo Nesbo’s Blood on Snow. If you’re familiar with Nesbo but haven’t read this one yet, don’t let the tender moment fool you.
We made love. It’s not out of modesty that I choose this romantic, chaste euphemism instead of a more direct, instrumental word. But because making love really was the most fitting description. . . . I held he incredibly carefully, like one of the dried flowers I sometimes found in the pages of books from the library, so brittle and fragile that they dissolved under my fingers as soon as I touched them. I was scared she would disappear.
pg. 77 Blood on Snow by Jo Nesbo