33This Isn't Over, Lover!Soren regained consciousness splayed face down on the bed in his North London Regency flat. When he moved, every muscle felt bruised, and every bone creaked. He would have come off better if he’d been kicked out of a moving vehicle going a hundred on the highway. He had no recollection of the time, the day, or even what month it was.
As he struggled to turn over, pain shot up his legs and settled in his pelvis where it continued to pound. Waiting for the throbbing to subside, he gazed up at the high ceiling. The light coming in through the window caught the bumps of the plaster ornamentation and cast a landscape of weak shadows from the center ceiling rose all the way to the picture rail.
Now and then, rain struck the sashed panes, coming in sudden loud swathes a
