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They dined on the back porch, their sunburned faces lit by a solitary candle, its flame frozen on this windless night.

Though it was after ten light dawdled in the sky.

This far north in late summer, true darkness doesn’t come until after midnight.

There had been a passing shower some time ago and the smell of the wet spruce was sharp and clean. Firs crowded the porch, their lowest branches draping within reach.

Andrew set down his fork and took a sip of the excellent Chilean wine.

"I finished the epilogue while you were in the shower."

Violet stared at her plate.

"Vi?"

When she finally looked at him across the rickety card table, he noticed her hands were shaking.

Andrew had converted the loft into a bedroom, managing to fit a mattress where his writing desk had been.

It was very late and dark and quiet.

Moonlight came through the windows and bleached the floorboards.

Violet had calmed down.

They lay awake, Max between them, the infant snoring delicately.

"Is it hard for you?" Violet whispered.

"What?"

"You know. Lying here with me…doing nothing."

Andrew smiled.

"Go to sleep."

He almost said go to sleep angel.

Her head rested in the crook of his arm.

She rubbed her cheek against his.

"What are you doing?"

"Max never had a beard. I like yours. I like how it smells."

"You gonna keep me up all night?"

"I just might."

10/14/03

Haines Junction, Yukon

Spent last night at the Raven Hotel. Pricey. Look for something more reasonable this evening. Breakfast at Bill’s Diner. Coffee. Two delicious bearclaws. C$11.56. AT came to the village again in that old CJ-5. (he went to the library) I drove out to his cabin. 5.9 miles down Borealis Road. A one-laner. Rough. Beautiful weather. Cold. Saw his driveway but didn’t turn in. Too nervous. (don’t be such a chickenshit) Think I’ll return on foot tonight and approach through woods under the cover of

The intercom broke in: "At this time, we would like to begin boarding Flight 6346 with nonstop service to Whitehorse, Yukon."

The tattered purple notebook closed.

On its cover, "H. BOONE" had been neatly printed in black magic marker:

The passenger of seat 14C slipped the notebook into a leather satchel, slung it over his shoulder, and strolled toward the gate.

His hair is blond and short now, but if you look closely, the roots are still black.

FOREWORD TO BREAK YOU

This novella is why I love reading horror.

Crouch takes you on a 20,000 word race straight into hell, and you'll love every minute of it.

Break You is a perfect introduction into the twisted, exhilarating world of Blake Crouch.

His characters are complex. Their motivations are terrifying. And the scenarios he dreams up are among the most creatively depraved since Thomas Harris.

How much would you hurt the ones you loved in order to save them?

If that question makes you flinch, DO NOT read this ebook.

But if you like your thrillers to have some depth to go along with the evil, and you like your villains to be so genuinely creepy you won't be able to forget them, then this was written just for you.

Fans of Thomas Harris, Stephen King, Clive Barker, Jack Ketchum, Richard Laymon, Brian Keene, and Dean Koontz will find themselves in familiar territory. Crouch's stalwart hero Andrew Z. Thomas (Desert Places, Locked Doors) thinks he's finally left the tragedy and horror of his past behind him. But the past has a way of catching up, and Andrew is pushed to the limits of human endurance to see if he does indeed break.

The ending is a jaw-dropper. You'll never see it coming.

J.A. Konrath, author of the Det. Jack Daniels' Series and Flee

BREAK YOU

* * *

Following the events of DESERT PLACES and LOCKED DOORS, Andy Thomas and Violet King are hiding out in the wilds of northern Canada, where Violet has a four-month-old son and a burgeoning romance with Andy. On a cold, rainy night at their cabin in the woods, the promise of an idyllic life that seems just around the corner is shattered when a man from their past, a monster of pure malevolence,