A Press of Feathers

<p><strong style=background-color: rgba(255 255 255 1); color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>Anger... it can eat you alive.</strong></p><p><br></p><p><span style=background-color: rgba(255 255 255 1); color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>Rage.</span></p><p><br></p><p><span style=background-color: rgba(255 255 255 1); color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>Bea has it - more than ever since her husband left her.</span></p><p><br></p><p><span style=background-color: rgba(255 255 255 1); color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>Lou has it - has it in spades since she lost her job and her flat and had to move back in with her parents.</span></p><p><br></p><p><span style=background-color: rgba(255 255 255 1); color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>And whoever's been murdering and mutilating the men whose bodies keep mounting up in Bea and Lou's city - they've got it too.</span></p><p><br></p><p><span style=background-color: rgba(255 255 255 1); color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>But when Bea moves to The Gates an exclusive new estate with a strange and troubled history and Lou's interest in the murders leads her right to Bea's door the two women find the lines between nightmare and reality history and myth and sanity and madness blurring around them - and a primeval entity born from the chaos of creation with her own appetite for rage rising up to meet them from the ground below.</span></p><p><br></p><p><span style=background-color: rgba(255 255 255 1); color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>She sees them. And she's hungry.</span></p>