I’ve been writing stories since I was 12. ‘Writer’s Digest’ was one of my writing teachers, actually.
It always amazes me how many women like dangerous men. Men who almost from the moment you meet them, you know are bad news. Me, I prefer my men kinder, gentler, nice. Niceness is highly underrated by most people.
Anyone who tells you size doesn’t matter has been seeing too many small knives.
How do you introduce boyfriend C to boyfriend A after boyfriend A has been such a good sport, of late, about boyfriend B, who is no longer in the picture?
I could probably have made the head shot from the railing, but with an unfamiliar gun, it was too risky. I didn’t want to accidentally shoot the woman in the head. Killing the hostage is always frowned upon.
One of my favorite things about hanging out with the monsters is the healing. Straight humans seemed to get killed on me a lot. Monsters survived. Let’s hear it for the monsters.
In chains and darkness, wherefore should I stay, And mourn in prison, while I keep the key.
Larry’s zombie bag was a nearly virulent green with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on it. I was almost afraid to ask what his vampire bag looked like.
I wasn’t crying, my eyes were running. My eyes were running because there were pieces of zombies all over my toys. Jesus.
Sometimes you deal with the devil not because you want to, but because if you don’t, someone else will.
All men love to talk about themselves, even the ones who are completely buggers.
I thought of several alec smart remarks, but you should humor crazy people when you’re at their mercy; it’s a rule.
Richard was a riddle with no answer, and I was tired of playing a game I couldn’t win.
She doesn’t understand what she’s asking, Jean-Claude said. No, but she asks, and if we do not do it, we will always wonder. I would rather thy and fail than regret having never tried at all.
People talk of sorrow as if it is soft, a thing of water and tears. But true sorrow is not soft. True sorrow is a thing of fire, and rock. It burns your heart, crushes your soul under the weight of mountains. It destroys, and even if you keep breathing, keep going, you die.
When God ignores you, the devil starts looking good.
If you’re alive, don’t move, if you’re dead, don’t worry about it.
I spent the next fifteen minutes convincing a crying werewolf that I wasn’t going to hurt her. My life was getting too strange, even for me.
Death, jewelry, or magic; it sounded like Valentine’s Day.
Everything I needed was in my car, even the chickens.