You can run from the past, but it always catches up with you.

Norm was lean, his short, straight black hair parted on the side, his mustache trimmed like he’d never heard of Adolf Hitler.

Have they ever. Isabel never misses a trick. Anytime I step into their foyer, she’s dropping hints all over the place. Don’t get me wrong because I love both women dearly, and I enjoy playing a game or two of Scrabble, just not on every visit. Why can’t we play Monopoly for a change of pace? I love squeezing the play money in my fist and snapping up the swanky properties like Park Place and Boardwalk.

I was its skin, its movement, its shape, its god, its creator, its destroyer. And you thought Dexter was bad. The Bridgeman arrives soon.

@The darkest and most complex novel in (the Murdoch) series.

Quote taken from Chapter 1:

"Is Petey Samson a bloodhound for real?” Blue asked. “I could’ve sworn he’s a mixed breed, what my folks used to call a pound mutt.”

“Oh, brother,” Alma said. “I wished you hadn’t said that.”

“I’ll have you know Petey Samson is no pound mutt,” Isabel said, shaking her finger at Blue. “His best breeding lies in his bloodhound line,” she said.

“I didn’t know that,” Blue said.

“Pay no mind to Isabel,” Alma said. “She’s just being overprotective of her fur baby.