This is what a good book is about. This quiet sense that something is about to happen. It starts in the very first sentence, first paragraph, and then punches you in the gut. You know what the book is about, you can even guess how it will end, but you want to find out how it will get there.
Just read this opening to THE COLLECTOR by John Fowles.
"When she was home from her boarding-school I used to see her almost every day sometimes, because their house was right opposite the Town Hall Annexe. She and her younger sister used to go in and out a lot, often with young men, which of course I didn't like. When I had a free moment from the files and ledgers I stood by the window and used to look down over the road over the frosting and sometimes I'd see her. In the evening I marked it in my observation diary, at first with X, and then when I knew her name with M. I saw her several times outside too. I stood right behind her once in a queue at the public library down Crossfield Street. She didn't look once at me, but I watched the back of her head and her hair in a long pigtail. It was very pale, silky, like Burnet cocoons. All in one pigtail coming down almost to her waist, sometimes in front, sometimes at the back. Sometimes she wore it up. Only once, before she came to be my guest here, did I have the privilege to see her with it loose, and it took my breath away it was so beautiful, like a mermaid."
"...before she came to be my guest here..." This made me shiver. An innocent turn of phrase, yet filled with so much horror. Love it. Love Fowles. Love the way he opens his stories.