Pronunciation: Bro-gan

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Hazel

Motto: If you don’t find satisfaction, squeeze harder

Desires: To make as much profit from York, England

Weapon of Choice: Knife


Description: Brogan was small compared to most men I’d seen. His broad hands and thick forearms looked like they’d been stolen from a sturdier man and grafted onto his weaselly frame. He seldom spoke, and when he did, his voice was a quiet mumble of blended sounds. I once made a game of creating my own nonsense sentences from his burbled words.

Discussion Questions For Brogan?


  • Where do you think Brogan gets his cruelty from?
  • Do you have a favorite scene?
  • What is your favorite quote?
  • Do you think he recognized Quin at the end?
  • What satisfies Brogan the most?
  • Do you ever feel pity for him?

“You laughing at me, shite-face?!” His pronunciation was suddenly unmistakable; his mumble a growl. I hadn’t known he could move so fast, but in a blink he was towering over me. He seemed all teeth, his mouth wide open as he bellowed in my face. I didn’t understand the rest of his words; only saw his teeth–crowded together and slightly askew; short and square, their corners jaggedly worn. I shrank into the corner; tucked my head against the safety of my chest and squeezed my eyes shut as his fists pounded my back. “Laugh at me, will you, you bitch’s bastard?” His foot smashed into my ribs, and I couldn’t breathe. He didn’t stop until my whimpering became black silence.



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