Tuesday Teaser is a weekly meme hosted by Should Be Reading. Here are the rules: Grab your current read. Open to a random page. Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page, and BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!) Share the title & author, too, so that other Teaser Tuesday participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!
(On the angels singing to him)
Colton turned his eyes up and to the right, the attitude of remembering. "Well, they sang 'Jesus Loves Me' and 'Joshua Fought the Battle of Jericho,'" he said earnestly. "I asked them to sing 'We Will, We Will Rock You,' but they wouldn't sing that."
Heaven is for Real by Todd Burpo
And now, for my Tuesday Teaser...inspired by i swim for oceans. If you are writer, take a line from your current WIP or published piece. This is a line from my novel. It's the opening paragraph. Sorry for the length. I wanted to end it with staring into the toilet...but that seemed strange...
One day, people are going to be asking my generation where we were when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. I wish they wouldn’t. I don’t want to remember where I was. How will I be able to look them in the eye and tell them I was staring into the porcelain bottom of the Riverside Baptist Church women's toilet? Nerves. They are my number one enemy. They have plagued me—and my stomach—for as long as I can remember. It was ten minutes until I was to walk into the sanctuary and recite the 96 Psalm in front of the congregation. Picturing the audience in their underwear—old Mrs. Greenfield and her three chins, included—did not help. Was it wrong to feel immense relief when I entered the congregation, bile still in my throat, only to find Revered Phillip shaking, tears running down his crepe paper cheeks, and the recital forgotten? Because I did, that is…until I learned the reason for the tears. As soon as snarky Bethany Wilson, a year older than my sixteen, leaned over and whispered in my ear of the attack, I promptly turned my head and puked up mama’s blueberry pancakes all over the shaggy olive green carpet. No one cared.