I find it fascinating the ways I hear from my dear readers these days. It seems that even the ‘unsavory’ types read an article or two in the dark alleys and secret taverns. When I arrived home from writing a few notes on my latest story last night, I saw a note with a flower pinned to my door with a dagger. Unfortunately, there was blood on the dagger, so I decided to leave it be and rip the note off to give it a closer look. I only hope the blood was strictly symbolic, and not indicative of a lost soul. The note read like this:

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