Some day, this will be a "Last.fm/NetFlix/Amazon for web fiction" (both original and fanfiction) where you can search across many different hosting sites or rate what you've read and get recommendations. However, life keeps throwing more urgent projects my way, so I don't know when it'll be ready.
"Well, this isn't a dream or a nightmare," the voice of his mother said,
wearing an apron as she fried bacon and eggs in the frying pan on the
stove. The apron had, on the front, what looked to be the Sign of
Hastur. "Believe me, I know. I've done my share of trekking through
them, even if Lovecraft got that crap with Carter wrong. Sorry, I was
feeling a mite peckish. I mean, technically, I don't need to eat, but
when you've been cooped up for almost fifteen years in a coffin, you get
the oddest cravings. And I want cholesterol and protein. Pregnancy's
worse, though. Have you ever wanted Shoggoth soup? That's not as easy as
going down to Tesco's or Marks and Spencer for it. Anyway, you want
any? I mean, I was going to have it all, but I can share."
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/12748842/3/
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