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The good thing about being a nomadic loner who gives zero fucks is that I can do whatever the hell I want, when I want. No excuses necessary.
The world of gods lies like gossamer over the human world—a shimmer in the corner of their eyes. The humans’ stories of gods and beasts weren’t born of wild imagination but woven together from the sudden goose bumps on their arms and the cold shivers down their spines. Human minds can’t grasp the truth, but they also can’t completely ignore the allure of the supernatural—the magic.
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Fox spirits were once revered as deities in Korea, but that’s ancient history. Nowadays, most Koreans believe in the myth that gumihos are treacherous demons who turn into beautiful women to manipulate and control men to do their bidding.
Ethan wisely keeps his mouth shut, but I want to kiss that cocky smirk off his face. No, not kiss. I meant punch. Like really, really hard. With my fist. Fuck.
If avoidance were an Olympic event, I’d be a record-breaking gold medalist.
Only beings of the Shingae can see the gods and . . . Ethan saw Samshin Halmeom.
We’re the shitshow specialists,”
Life is a dumpster fire, but these guys are . . . all right.
And what is love? Love is hope. What is hope? Hope is life. What is life? Life is light.