I'm going to wallow in self-pity for a few days since the best book I've ever written is now forever lost to the ether. Sure, I've got the first 179 pages of an early draft, but I can't even think about rebuilding it right now. Date With The Devil is officially dead.
I'm going to work on a novella I've been asked to do, after that, there's a YA I'd like to tackle. I'll reassess Date at that point and see what I feel up to.
Back up your work externally, people. Trust me on this one.