I don’t even remotely have a title for this one, yet. It’s also not being actively worked on, every day, and won’t be until November. And, obviously, it’s not going to be on the publication rotation until at least three projects from now. But… I have a plot, and at least I’ve got a start.
Huzzah! 14,300 goram words later, it’s finally done. Oh, well, it’ll make a good selling point for the anthology.
We stood not on the order of our coming but left at once. As we ran I saw my shoes and belt, and grabbed them in some haste (my pants were fine, but I don’t walk Cin City in my socks and neither should you). We got out in good enough time before the entire damn warehouse caught on fire.
As the four of us looked at the destruction, I started to swear. Sofie looked up from her quick disassembly of whatever it was that Posh Fred thought would keep Irene under control. “What’s the matter, Tom?” I pointed to the flames in sadness and horror. My only solace was, there was something about this in the Lore (there always is).
“My hat was in that place,” I more or less quoted.