Tori joined us for dinner – in body, at least. She spent the meal practicing for a role in the next zombie movie, expressionless, methodically moving fork to mouth, sometimes even with food on it.
There are lots of things in the folklore, like they can only be killed by a silver bullet, that don’t realistically work, if you’re trying to say they have existed for hundreds of years, unknown.
Well, either you have a compartment under this floor, containing a living person, or the property is infested by giant moles.
To distract myself from thoughts of my father, i decided to check out the dead body.
He obviously needed more practice, but no matter how often I abandoned him out there, his sense of direction never seemed to improve.
Derek? Derek!-Chole Chole! what are you doing out here? i said we will check it out later. key word WE-Derek oh, yeah I decided to come out on my own. thats why i was calling your name repeatively- Chole.
I must have been sound asleep if i missed all that shouting-Simon What shouting?-Derek you mean that Chole just told you she followed a ghost onto a roof, and you didnt blast her all the way to Canada?-Simon He’s a little off this morning-Chole More than a little i’ll say.-Simon.
Tell her to be quiet, and she got louder. Tell her to stay back, and she pushed me into the line of fire. Tell her to watch for our pursuers, and she hovered at my shoulder instead. Open the door to listen, and she wanted to drag me back inside. Ah. The beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Oddly enough, I find the best hostages are the live ones. – Karl.
Some women just aren’t cut out to be mothers, and unfortunately it had taken Susanna three kids to realize she was one of them.
Wish all my corpses would do that.
It’s because when we sneeze, our soul flies out our nose and if no one says ‘bless you,’ the devil can snatch it.
I’d been staring at the search term for at least five minutes. One word. Necromancer.
I got to eavesdrop at a window. As Clay said, I did have another option. I could wait in the car and let them fill me in later. So, eavesdropping it was.
It wasn’t until I was in my teens that I started admiring writers as inspirations for my own work, and my earliest influences there were Stephen King, Marion Zimmer Bradley and Richard Adams.
Love and hate. Same passion. Same impulse.
The rottweiler stood his ground and waited for me to take the next step in the dance of ritualized intimidation. Instead, I leaped at him. Screw ritual. Now was not the time to stand on ceremony.
I love you. I’m not sure if it’s the way you want me to. I think it might be. But I know that I love you. I absolutely love you.
Young writers need to be encouraged to write – just write – with no restrictions on form, style or content.
I grew up writing about the paranormal, and I blame too many Saturday mornings watching Scooby Doo.