PREVIEW

... al—or the hundredth. Time blurred when the world spun in laughter and chaos, and tonight was no different. The music roared from unseen speakers, the flickering neon lights of the circus tent casting wild shadows across the wreckage of a celebration that never truly ended.

A few days ago, a letter had arrived from Arkham, sent by her dearest little pudding. The envelope had been stained red—perhaps with ink, perhaps with something more intimate—and scrawled over with symbols and words th ...

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