I've posted a few entries to Stuart Neville's Twitfic contest for a copy of Ghosts of Belfast. Really need to learn to edit what I post, because an entry I made turned into a pretty creepy limerick:
He jilted her at the alter, so she hung herself from a rafter. Till death do us part my ass, she said, and haunted him thereafter.
It's a little too long for the rules he set, damn it. And too bad, because I think he'd really dig it since he's Irish. Irish, limerick . . . yes, bit of a stereotype. First thing I've written in months, though.