The library was home away from home to my mom, and my family. We had spent every Sunday afternoon there since I was a little boy, wandering around the stacks, pulling out every book with a picture of a pirate ship, a knight, a soldier, or an astronaut. My mom used to say, "This is my church, Ethan. This is how we keep the Sabbath holy in our family.

Hey, Ethan." "Yeah?" "Remember the Twinkie on the bus? The one I gave you in second grade, the day we met?" "The one you found on the floor and gave me without telling me? Nice." He grinned and shot the ball. "It never really fell on the floor. I made that part up.

A vegetarian? Are you insane? That's worse than bein' a quarter demon!

A little-known fact about me: I read all the time.

The Sisters were Southern Baptist, and they went to church on Saturdays and Sundays, and most other days, too.

I may have been a Wayward, but my way was full of people who loved me. They were the only way I knew

It was unbelievable. She was standing there, staring at him like he was a real rock star.