This is a small snippet of the book. Note that this is subject to changes
The clouds were growling, water droplets from the gloomy clouds crashed with whatever came in their way, flock of birds, trees, the road and what not. That was a stormy night, quarter to 2pm, and the Whitlock family were on the way to their residence, 597 Dorty Avenue, on an old gray Fiat with a broken headlight, from the airport, Mid Delta Aviation. They were on a long winding road which seemed to lead into nothingness from nowhere with not a single vehicle in sight. On either side of the road were acres and acres of uncultivated farmland with barely active lights and the only other source of light anywhere near the car was its own headlight that barely illuminated the road in front of them and the occasionally constant lightning flashes.
