Shadow Visitor (“I haunt” Series)
Damn shadow. What hellish anatomy sustained its voice? Hell’s pits hid arcane recorders for human speech—in living and dead language. Its spooky source exposed, the shadow lost ground. The stiffer incarnated, the weaker its devious mesh. As stock-still, the doorknob waited. No stir, no squeal.
Your Own Signature Shoes Are the Shoes You Die In
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