Stella

Friday 28^th November 4pm. Nightfall. On a blood-chilling, late November evening in Sheftel. Stella Marsh didn’t feel the cold, which was probably just as well. She closed her eyes and felt the warm sensation, the tingle inside her fingers and toes, the bestial flow of craven need crawl up her arms, calves, and thighs, until it probed her torso, invading her pumping, pounding heart in its powerful coronary intervention.

Photo: Lisa