The man was married to a Halifax, half-human woman, a banshee, who'd' just delivered twins. It was a wonder his hair wasn't completely prematurely white.

— Erin Kellison

The nightmare was shaped like a goddess - a beauty with a body curved to incite reckless sinning. She wore an angry pout that he knew would burn his mouth. She had hair like snow and eyes as cold and fathomless as the deepest reaches of space. How like a nightmare to seduce and terrify at the same time.

— Erin Kellison

The page contained a single, unfamiliar symbol. It looked like a backward S with the diagonals of an open triangle cutting through it. A straight line bisected both shapes. Could be creepy. Could be nothing.

— Erin Kellison

There are worse things than death.

— Erin Kellison

There is absolutely nothing that can harm the shadow. Nothing. I advise you strongly not try.

— Erin Kellison

There is no reason for any of this if we don't survive." Vince reached out and ran a hand through her long hair. "Ah, love. That's where you're wrong. As long as we do what we're meant to do, it doesn't really matter if we survive or not.

— Erin Kellison

There is no reason for beauty. It just is.

— Erin Kellison

The Sandman is rising." It'd been the only thing Coll had said before delirium had taken him again. The Sandman. Rising.

— Erin Kellison

The Segue Institute was the preeminent research organization for all things paranormal, and it was housed in a haunted, renovated turn of-the-century hotel. The place was supposedly loaded with what the scientists there called Shadow, capital S, a scary word for magic. Dark magic.

— Erin Kellison

The shadow acts on instinct, not reason.

— Erin Kellison