"Oh, it's only the prologue," I told myself like a fool, reading the prologue in the dark. Hillsbury was familiar; one of those small, summer towns that dwindles down to the locals after Labor Day. I know this town. I've been there before, both in genre fiction and in childhood. I'm pulled in deep, suffering the effects of nostalgia creep, and my heart begins to race. This is familiar, and I know I should turn the lights on. I know I shouldn't be reading this in the middle of the night, but here I am locked in to every word. The pace quickens, my eyes stare wide at the screen. Suspense fills my room as I continue reading forward. I need to know. I'm already sucked in, and I need more.