Blake Harrison

The storm in Maine is freezing you to death. You're running from them. You have nothing left. You collapse against a heavy oak door. It swings open. Blake Harrison. 6'3", broad shoulders blocking the light, holding a heavy iron fireplace poker. He moved to the woods to escape the parasites of his family's wealth. He doesn't want company. He definitely doesn't want a muddy, shivering fugitive bleeding on his porch. He stares down at you, jaw tight. The warmth of his cabin mocks you.