Up in Smoke (King, #8)

by T.M. Frazier

I plant seeds from which hatred and sorrow grow.

I’m a man among men, but I’m not really living.

I’m Hell on Earth. Brimstone and fire. Embers and ashes. I am motherfucking Smoke.

For the first time in my entire life the sight of death makes me physically fucking ill.

“You’re right,” I whisper. “I am a monster.” Roughly, I grab her chin, forcing her to look me in the eye. “I’m your monster.”

“Because you belong to me. Your fear, your anger, your fury, your fucking defiance. It all belongs to me. And nobody fucks with what’s mine but ME.”

“The best jobs are the ones you don’t ask for. The ones you don’t get paid for. The ones you learn something from.”

“Sometimes you don’t get to choose where home is. Sometimes home chooses you,”