Opening paragraph of my novel, "Sleeping With Angels":

one
Mark Summers fidgeted with his black bowtie and set off for another tour of the lavishly decorated room, his tray laden with an array of wines, champagne and fresh orange juice. As he weaved his way through the crowd a thousand conversations competed with one another, coming from all directions, eventually converging in a verbal spaghetti junction where they fused into an unintelligible tangle of meaningless words. He tried to shut himself off but the party had been under way for some time and the guests were boisterous, making it difficult for him to ignore the occasional string of words which managed to extricate themselves from the cacophony.

Links:

https://www.amazon.com/SLEEPING-ANGEL...

https://www.amazon.com.au/Sleeping-An...