G.H. Reynolds no longer exists. I devoured her last Halloween. She of all people should have heeded my warning and not taken that dirty book with her to bed that night. But there s...view moreG.H. Reynolds no longer exists. I devoured her last Halloween. She of all people should have heeded my warning and not taken that dirty book with her to bed that night. But there she was, two fingers inside her, her naked body reduced to nothing more than a sticky mound of salt water taffy – pineapple flavored. She was delicious – though I left her apartment quite thirsty.I didn’t expect to wake up there the next morning, wearing her clothes, working her day job, and tending to her plump Chihuahua with the soft golden fur. It makes no difference. October 31st is always just a few days away, and with it, the certainty that I will be born again, more powerful – and hungry – than ever.In the meantime, I’ll keep writing about my naughty adventures. Turn her Amazon, Nook, and Smashwords accounts to my purpose. I thank you, reader, for supporting this starving artist, and the impostor lurking beneath her skin. Perhaps, if the night comes where you and I meet, I will take pity on you and give you a most pleasurable death.view less