I'm finalizing edits for We are the Monsters, and just landed on this paragraph:
My tiny penlight beam glinted on the rippled surface of the water. It wasn’t exactly as still as glass, but calm. Tranquil enough it was hard to imagine any bodies under the surface, whether it be a boy drowned fifty years before or the water-logged corpse of Nate Nemechek. Even at night, deep blue night when the ghost and demons of the world were to rise and shamble about, dragging their carrion path across the world, I couldn’t feel it.
It's a weird little book, but I like it.
Other things I like? How about an idea for a second Sons of Chaos novella?
(shhhh...don't disturb Fred while he's at work)