You can kiss me if you like," she said. Alex let go of her and turned away. "Thanks, Fiona," he said. "But frankly I'd prefer to kiss the horse.

He had followed the trail left by a dead man. It was only now that he realized it might lead only to a grave.

My writing has always been what you call 'narrative fiction' in the sense that it's got very strong plots and twists at the end.

It is, of course, traditional in children's literature to get rid of the parents.

When are you at your most defenseless?

There are few things in the world that we don't know. Science has explained everything away.

All that sadness. All that anger. It is the smoke that gets into your eyes. If you do not blow it away, how can you hope to see?