Xpresso Reads Blog Tour & Giveaway: Night Chill (Jeff Gunhus)

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Night Chill by Jeff Gunhus
Publication date: May 31st 2013
Genres: Adult, Supernatural, Thriller

Jack Tremont moves his family to the quiet mountains of Western Maryland hoping to leave behind a troubled past and restart his life. Instead, he finds himself caught up in a nightmare when his daughter Sarah is targeted by Nate Huckley, a mysterious and horrifying stranger driven by a dark power that will stop at nothing to possess Sarah. When Sarah goes missing, suspicion falls on Jack and he must uncover the secrets of the small mountain town of Prescott City and face the evil secret hidden there. As he digs further, he learns the conspiracy reaches more deeply than he could have imagined. Finally, he will have to face the question, What is a father willing to do to save his child? The answer? Anything. Anything at all.

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In addition to writing supernatural thrillers for adults, Jeff Gunhus is also the author of the Middle Grade/YA series The Templar Chronicles. (www.jacktemplar.com) The first book, Jack Templar Monster Hunter, was written in an effort to get his reluctant reader eleven-year old son excited about reading. It worked and a new series was born and recognized as a 2012 Forward Reviews Book of the Year Finalist. Jeff has been a Stephen King and Dean Koontz fan since he was a kid reading their novels under the covers at night. Seeing Night Chill next to King and Koontz on the Amazon Bestseller lists has been a surreal experience. He leads an active lifestyle in Maryland with his wife Nicole and five incredible kids. In rare moments of quiet, he can be found in the back of the City Dock Cafe in Annapolis working on his next novel.

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Nate Huckley leaned forward against the steering wheel, eyes searching the colorless brick 

buildings that slid by on either side of the street. He glanced at his watch and shook his 

head. He couldn’t believe he was spending valuable time, time he didn’t have, looking for a hardware store in this back woods, one-factory, Pennsylvania town. 

Huckley spotted the store. The boy back at the gas station had stuttered like a 

moron, but his directions had been good enough. Huckley pulled into the small gravel 

parking lot next to the concrete tilt-up building on which the last remnants of the word 

“Hardware” clung in tall flaking letters. The lot was empty except for a beat-up VW Bug, more rust than metal, squatted in the far corner. Huckley checked his time and felt the anger churn harder in his stomach.

Grabbing the roll of tape, he marched through the parking lot, the hard soles on 

his leather boots crunching the small rocks into the dirt. Like stepping on bugs, he thought to

himself. He smiled and started to twist his foot on each step and stomp down a little harder. 

By the time he reached the double-wide glass doors that faced the street he felt a little better. 

Until he saw the sign.

CLOSED.

Bullshit. Huckley pounded on the glass door with the tape. He leaned down, opened 

the mail slot with his forefinger and shouted, “Hey! Get out here. I know you’re still there, 

I can see your car.” 

He stood up and kept beating the door until he saw a light go on in the back room. 

A smile spread across his face. He always got his way. Always.

The door in the back opened and Huckley saw the outline of a person walk down 

the aisle. Huckley grinned a little wider. He’d expected an old man, but it was a young girl 

who came to the door. She squinted at him through the glass, twisted the locks and stuck her

head out toward him.

“We’re closed,” the girl said. She rolled her eyes in case her tone hadn’t made her 

annoyance perfectly clear.

Huckley looked the girl over. Dark circles ringed her eyes as if old layers of eyeliner 

had melted into her skin. Her cheekbones stuck out like there wasn’t enough skin on her 

face to go around, giving her an emaciated, hungry look, like a stray dog who thinks a 

wrapper with grease on it is a meal. Black roots a few inches long told the world her bleach-

blonde hair was more bleach than blonde. The girl was a mess. Huckley couldn’t believe his 

luck.

“Well, hello sweetie. When’d you start working here?”

The girl ignored the question. “Mr. Cooper left me to close today. Told me not to let anyone in.”

“That’s what Mr. Cooper said, huh? Well, I’m sure he didn’t mean me.”

The girl looked up and down the street. Huckley already knew there wasn’t anyone 

there. He had checked when he first saw that it was a young girl coming toward the door. 

“Look, I’m new to this town, mister. I don’t know who you are. So I think you’d 

better go now. Come back tomorrow.”

“C’mon now, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to me a little.” Huckley smiled as he 

concentrated. The girl’s mind was an open book. He pushed a little and the pages tumbled 

open, images dancing free form, garbled and non-linear. Hers was the kind of mind 

that used to confuse him, but that was a long time ago. Now it was easy. With a little 

concentration he could find out everything he needed to know. Like how the girl was a 

druggie, a loner, picking up a few bucks before moving on. How she was frustrated the 

owner hadn’t trusted her with the cash register yet. How the first time he did, she’d take the money and be gone. And there, amid all the adolescent self-consciousness and emotionalism, 

was a burst of sexual images. Many partners. Some for money. Some for drugs. And blazing 

out in front was an evolving fantasy with Huckley himself. 

Ahh, young hormones, he thought. Little teenage girls could never resist his looks: 

white skin unmarked by any blemish, blonde hair combed back flat against his scalp, lips 

dark red as if he had spent the day sipping wine, eyes squinted half shut as if he held a secret too valuable to share. Although he appeared to be in his thirties, it was always the young 

ones who found him most attractive. And they were always so eager to prove they were 

women by following him to whatever bed, car seat or back alley he chose. 

He left the girl’s sexual images behind and shifted through her thoughts until he 

found the right information. 

“Your name’s Doreen, right?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

He smiled at the girl. “I just guessed. You look like a Doreen.”

“Is that a good thing?” she asked tugging on a few strands of her blonde hair and twirling it over her ear.

“Sure, pretty name for a pretty girl.” God, it was so easy. Huckley moved a step 

closer to the girl and inhaled through flared nostrils. Cheap high school perfume mixed with 

cheap high school marijuana. He smiled. That’s my girl. 

“So Mr. Cooper left you all alone, huh? Surprised your father let you work a job like 

this. What are you, seventeen?”

“I’m eighteen,” she lied. “Don’t know who my daddy is. Even if I did, I wouldn’t let him tell me what to do.”

“I see. But you let this Mr. Cooper tell you, huh?” Doreen shrugged. Huckley held 

up the roll of tape, “Listen, I really need some duct tape. This stuff doesn’t work for what 

I’m using it for.”

“I’d like to help, mister. I really would. But the register’s closed and emptied out for 

the day so....” Doreen started to smack the chewing gum she’d been hiding in her mouth.

“No problem. I’ll just leave some money and you can put it in the register tomorrow. 

I’ll be in and out of here. Let you get back to your own business, if you know what I mean.” 

Huckley raised a hand to his lips and took a drag off an imaginary joint. Doreen broke eye

contact and stared at the floor. Huckley smirked. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with it. Lord 

knows I’ve smoked my share of weed.”

Doreen smiled self-consciously, “You smoke?”

“Are you kidding? My generation invented the stuff.” He leaned in and whispered in 

her ear, “In fact, I wouldn’t mind a hit if you have any left. I’ll pay you a little extra for it.”She hesitated, looked up and down the street again. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

“All right. I understand. Maybe you’re too young for me to be talking like that anyway. I’m sorry.” Huckley turned to leave.“I’m not too young. I told you I was eighteen.”

“Yeah, that’s what you told me.”

Doreen bit her lower lip, then moved to the side to let him in. “I don’t believe I’m doing this.” “That’s a good girl. You know, I was really lucky you were here.” Huckley smiled. 

 “You have no idea how much time you’ve saved me.” 

He leaned into her as he passed. An electric jolt moved through him as his arm 

rubbed against her breasts. Huckley curled his hands into fists and rubbed them up and 

down his thighs. He knew he had to wait until she closed the door behind them, but this was 

his favorite part and he could hardly contain himself. He smiled at his good fortune. He was 

back on schedule.

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