Son of a—Rora?” Blake slid out of the crater he’d just made in the wall. “Crap. What are you doing here?” He saw my wris — A.E. Kirk, Demons at Deadnight
Son of a—Rora?” Blake slid out of the crater he’d just made in the wall. “Crap. What are you doing here?” He saw my wris — A.E. Kirk, Demons at Deadnight
Son of a—Rora?” Blake slid out of the crater he’d just made in the wall. “Crap. What are you doing here?” He saw my wris — A.E. Kirk, Demons at Deadnight
Son of a—Rora?” Blake slid out of the crater he’d just made in the wall. “Crap. What are you doing here?” He saw my wris — A.E. Kirk, Demons at Deadnight
Son of a—Rora?” Blake slid out of the crater he’d just made in the wall. “Crap. What are you doing here?” He saw my wris — A.E. Kirk, Demons at Deadnight
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Son of a—Rora?” Blake slid out of the crater he’d just made in the wall. “Crap. What are you doing here?” He saw my wrist. “Handcuffs? I definitely want that story.

— A.E. Kirk, Demons at Deadnight
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