“We have nothing left. Orphans. Castaways." She turns to me. "Childless. That is what we are. The unwanted or the un-killed. We… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“You want me to join your group of demon hunters," I can’t believe I just said that out loud, "because of a can of… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“We have nothing left. Orphans. Castaways." She turns to me. "Childless. That is what we are. The unwanted or the un-killed. We are together… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“I’m in a secret underground hideout of a group of monster hunters, filled with magical totems, brass monkeys that move and enough firepower to… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“We fight monsters and unholy creatures for a living here. Grotesque, evil, violent, dangerous; they’re certainly all these things. And yet, we somehow manage… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“Do I strike you as a frivolous man, Kelly?" I look at him, sitting there in another thousand dollar suit. Pompous? Yes. Self-centered? Yes.… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“I know you think I should be home taking care of my family. That maybe I’d be distracted or I wouldn’t be as committed… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“The things I’ve seen," he continues easily, "have shown me that the only constant is change. Too much power in one place is a… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“Most people create a destiny of minutiae, of the mundane. They create their own limitations. When the moment comes for them to stretch and… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“That thing ruined my favorite T-shirt," complains Mario. "Whatever." It’s Marianne’s voice. "You were just looking for a reason to get your shirt off."… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“I chew the inside of my lip, considering for a second what it would be like to slap this skinny little witch right across… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“Demons exist,' he says simply, as if talking about the weather. 'They are real and they are dangerous. We hunt them when necessary and… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
“The glove suddenly feels much heavier, now, more dense. The rush of power didn’t come through me, but wrapped around me; invisible and strangely… — Bill Blais Copy Share Image
