The Contortionist (Harrow Faire, #1)

by Kathryn Ann Kingsley

She had figured everybody who could do old-style font by hand was long dead.

And there aren't any pictures online??

“My dad took a photo of this, I think. I mean, the original. Not this one. But, man, I can’t tell the difference in the art. It’s like it was just done. It must’ve taken somebody days to do it.”

Or maybe go on an arson spree and burn the place down.

Damn girl. Most people would skipntown and leave it at that.

And screaming like a lunatic and holding up a sign outside was a great way to get carted away.

Lol, yeah

Then again, a supernatural, man-eating murder-circus probably didn’t need to worry about building inspectors and fire code.

Probably not. But hey, having a building inspector as the final boss would be an unexpected twist.

He actually looked concerned. His expression was one of sympathy. He had taken his glasses off, and she could see something like real empathy

Trent had to help me once, and he was the one who passed out.”

“Ah! A perfectly reasonable request. And quite prudent, considering the amount of pain you are clearly in.” He got up, brushed the bits of grass off his suit, and bowed extravagantly. “As the lady commands, so shall I do. I will return shortly. Try not to pine over me too much while I’m gone.”

“Mmm, hate is a strong word.” He grinned. “I think ‘loathe to the point where they wish I would burst into flames and spend the rest of eternity screaming in agony’ is a stronger and far more appropriate descriptor.”

“I’m sorry.”

When I came here, it took me years to accept what had happened to me.” His expression fell again, the humor leaving him. “It took me years to understand.”