AS NIGHT FALLS: The Hudson Valley Suspense Series Book One

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Other books in the series. Hudson Valley Suspense 2 books. Sunday, August 16, , 2: Monday, August 17, , 7: I'll guide a discussion about books--the crafting of them and their effect on our lives--with area authors, emerging writers, and readers. Tuesday, August 18, , 5: Saturday, August 22, , 3: Sunday, August 23, , 6: Monday, August 24, , 7: Tuesday, August 25, , 6: Wednesday, August 26, , 3: Thursday, August 27, , 5: Friday, August 28, , 5: Saturday, August 29, , 2: Monday, August 31, , 6: Tuesday, September 1, , 7: Sunday, September 13, , 2: In conjunction with the wonderful mystery bookstore Aunt Agatha's , the Kerrytown BookFest is an event celebrating those who create books and those who read them.

Parrish , and Vu Tran. Tuesday, September 15, , 5: Book Signing and Publishing Workshop. Have you finished a book, started a book, or even just thought about writing one? I'll be talking about the state of the publishing industry today, then take participants through the stages from initial idea to published book. Volunteers will have the opportunity to develop pitches for their projects, and everyone will leave with an action plan--for themselves and their books. Wednesday, September 16, , 7: Killing People for a Living: A workshop on craft.

Why are mysteries, thrillers and suspense novels so popular with readers and so much fun to write? Participants will leave with a reading list and action plan for their own work. Thursday, September 17, , 6: What does it take to become a novelist? Friday, September 25, , 5: Saturday, September 26, , 7: Tuesday, September 29, , 7: Tuesday, October 6, , 5: Wednesday, October 7, , 7: Thursday, October 8, to Sunday, October 11, Saturday, October 10, , 7: Sunday, October 11, , 2: Monday, October 12, , 7: Tuesday, October 13, , 2: Wednesday, October 14, , 7: I'm very pleased to be doing my first event at the excellent Georgia Center for the Book.

Saturday, October 17, , 1: Sunday, October 18, , 1: A panel discussion with authors Alyssa Maxwell and Nancy J. Monday, October 19, , 6: Thursday, October 22, , 6: Friday, October 23, , The Moveable Feast Luncheon. Saturday, October 24, , 2: Sunday, October 25, , Saturday, November 14, , 1: Tuesday, November 17, , 5: Thursday, November 19, , 6: With author and speaker Jeffrey Davis.

1. As Night Falls?
2. Hudson Valley Suspense Series;
3. Hudson Valley Suspence: As Night Falls by S. K. McClafferty (2015, Paperback).
4. .

Every Thursday, Chronogram books editor Nina Shengold introduces an outstanding Hudson Valley writer for an evening of readings and lively conversation about the craft of writing. Monday, December 28, , 7: Bring On The Night Events Show past events January, Moving it back from the edge of the counter, Jackie had looked.

The gut-punch of those words, the intimacy of the single initial. Who was this person? How could she say that to Wade? What has he done? All those questions looping through her mind. She and Wade needed to talk.

It was nearly midnight and his third and final chance at the SATs was tomorrow and he needed his sleep. Wade was looking so tired lately, she wondered if he ever really slept at all. Jackie felt a chill at her back, cold night air pressing against her bedroom window, against the thin walls, creeping through cracks in the plaster. Her house was so drafty, even now in mid-October.

She hated thinking about what the winter would be like. A lifetime ago, Jackie had lived in sunny Southern Cal- ifornia. But what a warm year it had been, in every way. Those breath-hot Santa Ana winds on the back of her neck, the camellias blooming bright, all the way into Christ- mas.

Jackie pulled the comforter tighter around her and focused on her laptop screen — the scrolling Facebook feed with its lurid shots of five-star dinners, vacations in St. So many selfies, too. Helen with her chunky gold earrings and her Mona Lisa smile, head tilted down, ducking the camera in the same way Jackie did, that middle-aged female way, hoping for low light. But Helen looked so much livelier than Jackie, so much more satisfied, her peachy-skinned, seventeen-year-old daughter Stacy thrust in front of her like the lovely feature she was.

Did they know their children better than she did, these mothers of daughters? Were they as happy as they looked? Nobody was as happy as they looked on Facebook — even Jackie knew that. She reached for her glass of Chardonnay and took a long swallow, feeling the comforting tart- ness of it at the back of her tongue, the warmth as it slid down her throat.

• Born in Union Station!
• Supporting Someone With OCD.
• S. K. McClafferty.
• Bring On The Night 2015.

She glanced down at the corner of the screen: Why did her brain do this to her every night? Jackie slid open her nightstand drawer, found her bottle of Xanax.

She took half a pill — just half, washed down with the rest of the Chardonnay. Jackie closed her eyes and drifted off, drowsy and warm with the knowledge that everything in life was temporary, life included. And really, when it all came down to it, nothing was worth the effort it took to worry. It took her several seconds to blink the cobwebs out of her brain and focus on the sound, which was coming from across the hall — a scuf- fling, the clink of metal.

She reached for her phone; , she thought.

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Could be the wind. Three deep breaths, what Helen called cleans- ing breaths, Helen and her yoga classes, out with the bad energy, in with the good. She tried to focus on the scuffling, really hear it. She exhaled again, hard; air tumbling out of her. Noctur- nal or not, that animal slept all the time.

What woke him up? From down the hall, near the front door, Jackie heard the creak of floorboards. She bolted up to sitting. Looked at the digital clock on her nightstand: Heart pounding up into her throat, Jackie grabbed her phone, crept toward the bedroom door, bare feet on the hardwood floor, heel to toe, heel to toe, breath soft and shallow, arms straight out like a tightrope walker.

She pressed on her phone, her finger hovering over the send button. If she saw anything, anyone. She cracked the door. As though they were smaller than her. Jackie kept a baseball bat by her bedroom door. She took the bat in hand, the cool metal against her palm calming her. She moved into the hallway. With the other, she cracked the door.

No one in here but the two of them. She lowered the bat, her heartbeat slowing as the last shards of sleep fell away and everything grew clear.

Softly closed his door. From where she was standing, she could see him through the long window next to the front door, the shadow of him in the porch light. A few steps closer and she saw him in full. His back to the house, the glow of his cigarette. When did he get so tall? Jackie should stop him, she knew. He needed to sleep. She knew all of that.

Hudson Valley author pens young adult thriller

Jackie slipped back into her own room, slid open her night- stand drawer and took the other half-Xanax, this time with nothing. She pulled the comforter up to her chin and closed her eyes, waiting for the calm. As she started to drift, she found herself thinking of Wade. He was different now. A different boy, a sad boy. Why should I have to suffer for his idiocy?

We just have a holding bench. The drunk was cuffed to the bench. His head lolled to one side and his eyes were half-closed and his mouth open, drool trickling out the side of his clean-shaven face and into the collar of his pink-and-white-striped, Oxford-cloth shirt. Pearl was over and done with the both of them. Go back to New York City. Pearl shut her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose.