You might think twice before stepping inside.
If I could, I’d turn tail and flee. Heck, a pack of hellhounds would run themselves ragged before they caught scent of me.
With 19 days to go until The Hushing Days deadline (yes, the very last deadline), it has been chaos around here.
Yesterday, the twenty Chapters revolted. They began tearing themselves apart, asexually reproducing into ill-fitting Chapter-ettes that belong nowhere in polite literary society.
So, fair warning is given.
Enter at your own peril.
Scenes with delusions of chapter-grandeur are vile critters with a propensity to gnaw on leg-bones, elbows and very last nerves.