Memories Of Ice And Trent Surfaced, And

Knowledge Is Power. Ignorance Is Bliss. But Curiosity—even If It Had Killed The Cat—is King.

I’d Given Up On The White Picket Fence After Kisten Had Died—finding Out My Kids Would Be Demons Was The Nail In The Coffin.

Sure, He Had A Wife And Fifty-four Kids, But He Looked Like A College Freshman. A Yummy College Freshman Majoring In Oh-my-god-i-gotta-get-me-some-of-that.

Don't Fall Into The Trap Of Having To Have Everything Perfect To Write Or Wait Until The Mood Strikes You. If You Want It As A Job, Treat It Like A Job, And Just As You Don't Go To Work Only When You Feel Like It, You Have To Condition Yourself To Sit And Write Even When The Ideas Don't Flow.

Hey,” The Other Said, Coming To Life. “you’re Supposed To Be In Jail.” Al Grinned At Him, His White-gloved Grip Tightening On The Wooden Handle, Which Was Intricately Carved In The Shape Of A Naked, Writhing Woman. Nice. “and Your Momma Wanted You To Have A Brain,” He Said, Yanking The Door Open And Slamming It Into The Guy’s Face.