I'm going to hell for the type of research I've been doing, I just know it.

Gale wasn’t interested in leaving the house before Keane and the police arrived, he instead pulled up a chair and sat to the right of Mr. Crawley’s corpse, cigarette in hand, cat in his lap, and sniffing the air curiously every so often. I didn’t stick around to ask him what details his nose was picking up, while he wasn’t bothered with the smell of rotting flesh, I had to rush out of the house for fresh air and the first cigarette in half a month.

Its bad enough scouring the internet for “Necromancy 101”, but its worse when all these sites are citing resources that are in my own library.

I’m going to have to tone down some of the details in the chapters I’m working on, either that or put trigger warnings on them.

Even worse, I’ve been snacking the whole time I’ve been writing.