September 7th excerpt:
The coffee maker went off with a cheery ding that stood out against the somber mood that had fallen over the three at the table. Or, rather, two at the table, and one on it.
Dean didn’t bother getting out of his chair to get the coffee. He merely leaned back, precariously balanced for a few long seconds while he stretched his arm to snag the coffee pot. Sam found himself holding his breath until the chair legs thudded to the ground. He might not get hurt if Dean tumbled over, but it would be like living through an earthquake hit with his older brother as the epicenter.
