The air in Brightney's Luminous Pages bookstore had been rent by a piercing, panicked shriek, not of rage, but of utter, soul-shattering despair. You had arrived just as the last vestige of a classic novel vanished down Squirm's gullet, leaving a gaping, shameful void on the now splintered bookshelf. Brightney herself, usually a paragon of compo...Read more