To tell the truth, I don't know why I downloaded this. It was on Booksy's free list this morning. Psychological thrillers aren't usually my cup of tea.
A 1994 Buick Regal with one broken headlight and a half-rusted chassis rocketed between the concrete barricades to the side entrance of Garrett County Hospital, slipped into a space near the door, and screeched to a halt.
Waldron, Kimberley. The Butterflies (p. 1). Vellichor Press. Kindle Edition.
Let's start with that publisher. Vellichor Press has no website, no internet presence. That tends to diminish credibility.
This opening sentence is all screwy. First of all, the chassis is the frame, the underlying structure, not the body. It's unlikely, therefore, that an ordinary observer would be able to tell if that part of the vehicle was half-rusted. So here I am with not even a full sentence read and I'm questioning the writer's ability to use the right words.
Before the end of that sentence, this vehicle rockets (fast) between concrete barricades, slips (slower) into a parking space, then screeches (fast) to a stop. Nope, it doesn't make sense. Where are the barricades relative to the door? Does the vehicle have to turn at all?
I'm tired of bad writing. When the very first sentence is fucked up, why should I read any further?