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Monday, December 5, 2016

First Page Mondays: Library Of Souls By Ransom Riggs (Third Book In The Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children Trilogy



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Finally I have the third and final book in the Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children trilogy by Ransom Riggs. I was waiting for long to get Library Of Souls, and now that I have it, I am not sure I want to read it right away and finish the story...I'm gonna miss them all :(

Anyway, I know for a fact that the book is going to be amazing. In fact, I loved the movie based on the first novel, and I felt that it shared the story on screen just the way I had imagined and visualized it. Loved it :) !!!!!

Without further ado, here's a look at the first page from the book Library Of Souls by Ransom Riggs.

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The monster stood not a tongue's length away, eyes fixed on our throats, shriveled brain crowded with fantasies of murder. Its hunger for us charged the air. Hollows are born lusting after the souls of peculiars, and here we were arrayed before it like a buffet: bite-sized Addison bravely standing his ground at my feet, tail at attention; Emma moored against me for support, still too dazed from the impact to make more than a match flame; our backs laddered against the wrecked phone booth. Beyond our grim circle, the underground station looked like the aftermath of a nightclub bombing. Steam from burst pipes shrieked forth in ghostly curtain. Splintered monitors swung broken-necked from the ceiling. A sea of shattered glass spread all the way to the tracks, flashing in the hysterical strobe of red emergency lights like an arc-wide disco ball. We were boxed in, a wall hard to one side and glass shin-deep on the other, two strides from a creature whose only natural instinct was to disassemble us - and yet it made no move to close the gap. It seemed rooted to the floor, swaying on its heels like a drunk or a sleepwalker, death's head drooping, its tongues a nest of snakes I'd charmed to sleep.

 Me. I'd done that. Jacob Portman, boy nothing from Nowhere, Florida. It was not currently murdering us - this horror made of gathered dark and nightmares harvested from sleeping children - because I had asked it not to. Told it in no uncertain terms to unwrap its tongue from around my neck. Back off, I'd said. Stand, I'd said - in a language made of sounds I hadn't known a human mouth could........

- Debolina Raja