" The man slumped in a deep leather armchair as the awful images assailed him, and without doubt would haunt him until the day he died. The flurry of giant leathery wings, enormous fangs rending human flesh amid even more mutilated corpses scattered piecemeal in a charnel house from hell. But finally and if possible even more terrifying, the bizarre and still petrifying image of two ghastly creatures, vile green eyes killing with just a glance. Such visions could send a normal man insane. And yet beside these awful, horrific memories was something, if possible, even worse."
Hum de hum. I'm quite enjoying these horror stories. As I may have mentioned, I only wrote the first to see if I would enjoy it. I don't know what's worse, the fact that I am, or that they must get even worse before the trilogy comes to its final grizzly conclusion.
The cover won't be the final edition. At the moment it's about as menacing as a dispeptic frog.