Sweet To Think On It, That When

I Don't Know Why One Author Writes Westerns While Another Writes Detective Novels. You Don't Know Why. You Go Where The Intensity Is. I Feel Most Comfortable Writing About Monsters. It's Possible That I Feel Like A Monster Myself. Or Maybe It's Because We All Have A Monster Inside Of Us, A Vampire, A Ghost, A Witch Or A Werewolf. You Do It Because It Works And It Feels Really Right And Authentic.

We Have Such A Terrible, Terrible Misconception Of Science. We Think It Involves The Definite, The Precise, The Known; It Is A Horrid Series Of Gates To An Unknown As Vast Of The Universe; Which Means Endless.

I Was The Vampire Lestat Again. I Was Back In Action. New Orleans Was Once Again My Hunting Ground.

I Was Good And Bad, But Never Wicked.

I Never Knew What Life Was Until It Ran Out In A Red Gush Over Any Lips, My Hands!