I'm not going to lie, I've been busy working on my Cold War spy novel every chance I get. Time management is a bitch.
However, I'm not going to neglect The Black Album.
I can't.
It won't let me.
EXCERPT FROM THE NOVEL
"Are you sure you want to finish the movie?"
Loveless put down the shotgun and closed the gap, resting his hands caressingly on Charlotte's shoulders. He would have to be the strong one here. He would have to lie to her and himself, at least pretend that it was alright. Hell, maybe it even would be. "We see it through, to completion. That's the deal. Right? This is our investment. Our stake. Our future."
"If we're still alive to capitalize on it, J.D." Charlotte looked deeply into the filmmaker's eyes, searching for any signs of uncertainty in them. "I don't want to become an urban legend. I don't want you, me or my daughter to be a cautionary tale they tell around a campfire to scare the hell out of misbehaving children."
"We won't."
"How do you know?"
Loveless opened his mouth, not sure what answer, if any, he had for her, when he was interrupted by Lizzy's disconcerting little girl giggle. "Marshmallows go good with campfires. You know that?" The teenager frowned slightly as she looked deep into the fire. "You just have to be sure not to burn your mouth. And you can't listen when they say things to you. Crackle and pop. Marshmallows always say things to you. They say bad things when they think you're not listening."
The Demon Jeremy rises.
Images courtesy of "The Black Album"
Happy Friday,
Carlton Kenneth Holder
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