And I like a good horror story as much as the next person so long as they kill off some men too and not just girls. But the voices Joan heard were real. There’s clear and substantiated proof they were real.

It’s seemed more like a punishment than a reward most days…” he said, his tone one of bitter resignation. Then his gaze lifted to meet mine, and his voice changed. “…at least until I found you.

I'll put a bullet through my own brain. Let alone wait for stark to do it. Your sister will drive me to it, Howard. No offense.

Susannah." My dance partner's breath was soft against my cheek. "Susannah...." Yeah. In my dreams. In real life, the voice calling my name wasn't a bit masculine. That's because it belonged to a twelve-year-old boy.

What is the sound of one hand clapping? What is the weight of a single grain of sand? The answer is equal to my interest in the message you are about to leave. So make it short.

It's simple, really," Alaric Wulf said. " Lucien Antonescu is the prince of darkness." Jon nodded. "Yeah," he said. "We know. He's got a castle and stuff.

Why can't you just get married in Las Vegas like normal Americans?