Here are three paragraphs that start my first novel.
Chapter One - Operation Shiva
From an elevated vantage point behind a slated wooden fence, Jeff Thomas looked over the moderate-sized throng assembled to watch the motorcade pass. A few hands held small flags poised. Casual faces turned his way occasionally but none obtrusively watched him. Jeff scanned above to an unseasonable bright day for conducting a darkly cloaked operation. The sun filtering through the leafy canopy of a large bole tree cast mottling shadows with only his silhouette observable from the plaza below.
He cocked a cheek over his left shoulder. Further back from the concrete and stucco pergolas, no one was close. As a golfer’s on a tee-off swing, this pro’s eyes followed through to a look at his right rear angle. Cars filled the parking lot behind but the drivers and the passengers were all down below the grassy knoll on Elm Street, as a gallery to watch the procession. All here was quiet and still. Was it that time itself had hesitated, to allow a generation to gather an awareness, of where they were at this juncture?
The crowd’s attention was fixed away when he returned his gaze. They were watching where the president’s appearance was anticipated at any moment. A check of the sixth floor window of the brick Schoolbook Depository building showed it was open. That confirmed his partner was in position and ready. Jeff’s blue eyes checked his watch in a habitual manner without even noting the time. It was of no matter. The zero hour would strike soon and the world would soon remember, precisely when it had been.
Chapter One - Operation Shiva
From an elevated vantage point behind a slated wooden fence, Jeff Thomas looked over the moderate-sized throng assembled to watch the motorcade pass. A few hands held small flags poised. Casual faces turned his way occasionally but none obtrusively watched him. Jeff scanned above to an unseasonable bright day for conducting a darkly cloaked operation. The sun filtering through the leafy canopy of a large bole tree cast mottling shadows with only his silhouette observable from the plaza below.
He cocked a cheek over his left shoulder. Further back from the concrete and stucco pergolas, no one was close. As a golfer’s on a tee-off swing, this pro’s eyes followed through to a look at his right rear angle. Cars filled the parking lot behind but the drivers and the passengers were all down below the grassy knoll on Elm Street, as a gallery to watch the procession. All here was quiet and still. Was it that time itself had hesitated, to allow a generation to gather an awareness, of where they were at this juncture?
The crowd’s attention was fixed away when he returned his gaze. They were watching where the president’s appearance was anticipated at any moment. A check of the sixth floor window of the brick Schoolbook Depository building showed it was open. That confirmed his partner was in position and ready. Jeff’s blue eyes checked his watch in a habitual manner without even noting the time. It was of no matter. The zero hour would strike soon and the world would soon remember, precisely when it had been.
I don't deserve that praise because that isn't what my book is about. I originally wrote chapter one as a prolog with chapter one starting in today.