I am the beast, and he is my boy. A young, cruel boy with a smashed-glass smile. We are hunting tonight, because he is hungry. There is a strip of asphalt outside the town; it is our hunting ground, straight as an arrow and black as night. We idle beneath the only...

Jennifer Howell
When Jennifer Howell isn’t writing, she’s either running a construction company, making pork dumplings, or chasing a feral child. When Jennifer Howell is writing, she is the feral child. She can be found on Twitter @howlsmovingjenn or online at www.jenniferhowell.org.
