We've got a cover! There it is.
That's the same graveyard image I've been using on the temporary art for a while, and the "ghost" is Haleigh Huggins, the daughter of a friend of mine who agreed to play along. (Hi, Haleigh!) My wife Lea made the dress and hovered over my shoulder while I painstakingly merged her into frame, offering advice like "That's too sharp. That's too blurry. That's too shiny. Her fingers are messed up. That filter makes her look too green. Something's showing through her forehead."
Criticism is the best antidote to error, saith David Brin, and the whole thing came together well because of it.
This fell beast is getting closer and closer to completion.
Meanwhile, it's time I got my ass back to writing. I still need to churn out "Rocket Science" for this year's Flash Fiction Night, I need to write a third Perrilloux story to submit for Dreams of Steam 3, and I need to finish draft #10 of The Blood Prayer, since I've found another poor sucker willing to proofread it. However, last night the whole first paragraph of my 1950's time travel pulp novel burst fully-formed out of my brain and I've got to stop myself from going any further on that particular project until a few of the others are out of the way. Oh, and I have to rewrite my kayak story with yet another new ending.