Harrowed by the hounds of hell

[pjthompson]

This is my weekend for assembling stuff which I will mail out on Monday to various people to see if they like me, they really really like me. Or Shivery Bones, at any rate. It's been several months since the last batch, so it's well past time.

Undying and gargantuan thanks to darkspires, ilona_andrews, kmkibble75, mnfaure, mrngglry98, and raecarson for your great aid with the stuff and for helping me hold onto my sanity (or something like it).

And so I'll leave you with this cheerful little ditty which I originally wrote as a foreword to Shivery Bones, and abandoned for various reasons (and probably for the best). I found it while riffling through the SB folder. It does still capture the essence of the story, but I don't think you can dance to it.


Harrowed by the hounds of hell, you ask about love.
They snarl at the word and try to eat it whole;
they bay at the dark moon and call it singing;
they teach you to sing their darkest song,
and you find the darkness contains the kernel of light.
You will ask about love once more and ascend, finally.
The hellhounds lick your hand as you pass.