You got to hook 'em deep with the first few lines. Feed 'em something they got to eat more of. Started reading Hostile Witness last night dead tired and droopy eyed, but managed to read 3 chapters. Rebecca Forster is a great writer.

The opening of Hostile Witness:


    "Strip."

     "No."

     Hannah kept her eyes forward, trained on two rows of rusted showerheads stuck in facing walls. Sixteen in all. The room was paved with white tile, chipped and discolored by age and use. Ceiling. Floor. Walls. All sluiced with disinfectant. Soiled twice a day by filth and fear. The fluorescent lights cast a yellow shadow over everything. The air was wet. The shower room smelled of mold and misery. It echoed with the cries of lost souls.