Simon's walls were covered in what looked like pages ripped from a comic book, but when I squinted, I realized they were hand drawn. Some were black-and-white, but most were in full color, everything from character sketches to splash panels to full pages, done in a style that wasn't quite manga, wasn't quite comic book.

Young writers need to be encouraged to write - just write - with no restrictions on form, style or content.

She's useful to me, I'm useful to her. As long as that continues, Rowan Street is safe from an old-lady smack down of epic proportions.

You want to keep looking?" I asked. "Yeah, maybe." "I'll leave you to it, then." I started for the door. "No." He said it quickly, and reached for my arm, but stopped before he touched me. "I mean, if you're tired, sure, but you don't have to." Derek doesn't want her to leave ♥

Derek picked the spot? Had he been hoping I'd be blinded by the morning sun and stumble off the edge?

I was...a journalist...though my typical beat was freelancing articles on Canadian politics, which never included any mention of demonic phenomena, though it might explain the rise of the neoconservatives.

The secretary moved in to block Simon as I followed Thierry into the office. As the door closed, I heard her whisper, "I think it's very sweet, you sticking up for your brother like that." "I'm not trying to be sweet," Simon said, raising his voice so Thierry could hear. "I'm trying to be fair. But apparently no one's interested in that.