June 29th excerpt:
In annoyance, the little guy stormed out into plain sight. His leather jacket was hastily thrown on and his duffel bag hung askew, and he was glaring right at Sherlock when he came out into the light.
“You know, I’m right there, like two feet away,” Dean complained. “You’re gonna wake the dead one of these days, and the last thing we need to deal with is any vengeful spirits knocking on our doors along with all the rest of the problems going on.”