“Ethan stood there, his face blue and wrinkled, his lips pulled into a rictus grin. In one hand, he clutched a butcher knife. Blood splattered his hands and face. 'Mommy slipped,' he whispered, and plunged the knife into my leg” — Julie Kagawa Copy Share Image
“Now, an hour later, Ethan stood at a window, gazing at the rain, like threads of seed pearls, accessorizing the hills of Bel Air. Watching weather clarified his thinking. Sometimes only nature felt real, while all human monuments and actions… — Dean Koontz Copy Share Image
