Let Me In, Adam Nicholls [ebooks that read to you txt] 📗
- Author: Adam Nicholls
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Book online «Let Me In, Adam Nicholls [ebooks that read to you txt] 📗». Author Adam Nicholls
Everything in his body told him to turn back now, but Morgan knew better. It’d been decades since he’d believed in ghosts or monsters, and he knew it was his inner child talking to him. He dismissed it for now, following the light produced by his cell phone, peering into the holes of the smashed windows. He directed the light into the rooms, but there was nothing there besides wall graffiti and old fast food wrappers. Morgan wanted to head inside and investigate, but something told him there was nothing to find. The police had probably inspected it thoroughly anyway.
Moving on, Morgan stepped away from the building and headed toward the boat slip. The breeze returned to him here, the assault of icy midnight wind tearing at his coat. He shivered, pulling it taut at the collar with one hand, while the hand holding the cell phone suffered the pain of a thousand cold spikes pricking his bare skin. He did his best to ignore it, simply following the most lit path to where the car had been dragged from the river only days ago. It felt surreal standing in the exact spot where his cousin had been found dead. Life was fragile, and he often forgot that. Hopefully this would be a lesson for him.
Focusing on the part of him that’d told him to be here, Morgan walked to the end of the slip and gazed out toward the water. There was nothing but faraway lights and the sparkle of them bouncing across the water. He shook in the cold breeze and turned toward the slope, lighting up the dark tracks where the car had been recovered. While his breath drew short, he followed them back until he was on level ground. What exactly had happened here? What had pushed somebody into hurting Dusty in such a cruel, vindictive way?
He intended to find out.
At the far back of the boatyard, past where the tracks ended, Morgan shined the light on the ground and continued his hike back to the car. On the far rim of the yard, buried between two patches of overgrown weeds that’d probably been healthy grass long ago, two deep grooves in the dirt formed a familiar pattern. Morgan froze before crouching low to investigate. Something was off about this picture, and the truth behind it felt only an inch too far away for him to grasp. Regardless, he activated the camera on his phone and snapped away at the grooves from multiple angles.
It wasn’t until he took the fourth picture that he realized.
These were tire tracks.
He was sure of it now, kicking away the weed patches and following them back to the exit of the yard. It wasn’t much of a discovery—it was probably nothing at all—but Morgan kept snapping photos until the tracks ended. When he was done, he returned to his car and sent the pictures to Gary’s phone.
In the warm, comfortable silence of his car, he reached for his coffee, which had turned cold long ago. Each sip disgusted him more and more, but God knew he needed the caffeine, and he wasn’t above drinking it cold. Still, he cradled it in his hands as if it would warm him, staring into the dark abyss of the windshield.
Until his phone lit up.
Fatigue picked at his brain while he reached for the phone in its dashboard cradle. He swiped with his cold-numbed thumb, the caffeine working together with the name on the screen to quicken the beat of his heart.
It was a text message from Gary, and it was good news:
Were these at the yard? MPD didn’t see those.
That was because they were officially off the site, Morgan thought, typing up his reply with multiple errors. He was too cold to care about the mistakes, as long as the message was recognizable:
East sidf, under she sign.
Good enough, he thought, firing up the engine and relishing the hot blast of air shooting from the vent. With any luck, the police would send somebody over to investigate the tracks soon, but wouldn’t that be too late? The sun would be up in an hour or so, and Morgan had no intention of sleeping. Instead, he headed for downtown, where he knew a guy who might be able to help him out.
This way, he could stay a step ahead of the police.
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Thanks for making it through to the end. It means so much to me that you chose to read this book over the endless library this world has to offer, and that’s what keeps me working on the characters I’m growing to love.
In this instance, I spent a lot of time trying to create a protagonist who’s a lot like Mason Black, if not in his personality then at least in his predicaments. For Morgan Young, it was interesting to see a different man react to similar scenarios. Take his marriage for instance—unlike Mason, Morgan doesn’t have any kids, and he shares his wife with her (unpaying) career. Mason would’ve hated that, which is ironic when you consider that he was married to his career.
But that’s the difference.
I have this image of Morgan in my head; he looks like Denzel Washington and has a big heart. He doesn’t run in with guns blazing, and he doesn’t apply aggression toward the killers he’s tracking. In fact, he’s a little timid about his methods and constantly doubting his own abilities. Hardly the gruff detective, right?
There’s also the world around them. Mason had Bill to lean on, whereas Morgan is caught in an endless loops of IOUs with Detective Gary Lee. I try to limit police involvement within this series, as Mason got too close to the department and I wanted this series to be different (while also being the same).
And this world building is what I love. Thanks to you guys, I get to spend my days writing about these characters, getting to know them as gradually as you are. I always go into a book with a strong outline of what’s going to happen, but you’d be surprised to learn how many parts of these characters randomly appear while my fingers are hitting the keyboard. For instance, Rachel was originally supposed to work at a daycare just to make ends meet. It wasn’t until I started typing that she suddenly ran this amazing charity because of her love for children. Morgan, on the other hand, was drafted out to be more fierce, but his love for Rachel gave him a warmth that I think Mason was missing. The way these things evolve as they transfer from my head to the page is easily the best thing about writing novels, and it’s because of this that I manage to maintain my excitement for the next book.
The question is, what would you like to see more of? Did you like this book, or do you prefer the standalone thrillers? Is this too violent, or not violent enough? Maybe you think this books is perfect for you? Whatever your thoughts, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me using my email address or Facebook page in the back. Better yet, leaving a review after each book is by far the biggest way you can help an author grow, so feel free to leave an honest and unbiased comment or two on the product page.
For now, I’m off to write the next Morgan novel. I hope I can wrangle more out of this one, up the stakes and keep you on the edge of your seat with each coming title.
Until then.
Adam Nicholls
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