Ghost (The Halloween Boys, #1)

by Kat Blackthorne

“Fleetwood Mac? Are you kidding me? Stevie Nicks is one of the greatest lyricists of all time.

Goddamn, there was nothing like that post-homicide feeling. The high was like none other.

You’ll notice the men do the cooking, cleaning, and kid chasing. The women here are our alph—” He cleared his throat. “Leaders.”

I loved girls that talked a lot. I loved women with lots of opinions and so many thoughts their words flew faster than their minds could keep up with. For someone quiet, like myself, it was the perfect escape from my inner world of turmoil.

I had no time to question why or how this bird was speaking, or the absurdity of gripping onto rough fur and climbing up a shadowy wolf-like-creature. But after fucking a demon, nothing seemed that weird anymore.

death is a misunderstood concept with your kind. It’s not an end; it’s merely a . . . redistribution. When you blow out a candle, is fire dead?”

“Money’s boring. It’s more fun to make someone smile.

“Blythe is Death, and she needs no saving.”