This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice
RULES:
Grab a book, any book.
Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
Find a snippet, short and sweet.
Post it
from Page 56 of:
The Jigsaw Man by Nadine Matheson
The caramel-colored leg was slim and streaked with dried blood. Three toenails, polished bright blue, had pushed through the black netting of a pair of tights, which had gathered at the foot.
“Shit,” said Ramouter.
“She thought it was the leg of a mannequin at first until she noticed the dried blood and Vacarescu started screaming like a man possessed.”
Three feet from the leg, an arm and a head had been dumped against a tree stump. The head was covered with long black and purple braids. There was a bald spot, the size of a two-pound coin, on the right side. Her forehead was crisscrossed with grazes and bruising pocked her right cheekbone. Traces of red lipstick cracked across her lips. Two blackened holes where her eyes used to be. Ramouter put a hand to his mouth and looked away as a woodlouse crawled into the left eye socket.
“Where’s Linh?” Henley asked Stanford. “And why aren’t you at court?”
“Sick juror, and Linh is on her way.” Stanford turned his back on the body. Henley knew how he was feeling. They thought they had seen it all, until life presented them with a fresh kind of hell.