He Rolled His Eyes. "first, My Dad's

Urban Survival Rule 22: Never Annoy An Armed Man.

We Scarified A Mosquito. I Bet That's What Did It. It Was Probably A Virgin Too.

Hunting Humans For Sport? Eating Them?" The Bitterness In His Voice Cut Through Me. "yeah, I Caught That Part." "that Doesn't Have Anything To Do With You? He Lifted His Eyes, Gaze Shuttered. "no?" "not Unless Being A Werewolf Transforms You Into A Wolf And A Redneck Moron.

Storytelling Is My Passion, And It Rises From A Love Of Reading.

I Remember Hearing Myself Start To Whimper, A Five-year-old, Crouched By The Side Of The Road, Staring Into My Father's Eyes, Whimpering Because It Was So Dark And There Was No One Coming To Help, Whimpering Because My Mother Was Back In The Crushed Car, Not Moving, And My Father Was Lying Here In The Dirt, Not Answering Me, Not Holding Me, Not Comforting Me, Not Helping My Mother Get Out Of The Car, And There Was Blood, So Much Blood, And Broken Glass Everywhere, And It Was So Dark And So Cold And No One Was Coming To Help.