If there's any mystery to me at all, it's probably due to the fact that I'm not online and don't go to conventions--which means that I'm probably not as accessible to fans as most writers are these days. If that makes me seem like a weird recluse, so be it.

Murder is an inherently evil act, no matter what the circumstances, no matter how convincing the rationalizations.

Hope was a dangerous emotion that more often than not led men into foolishness and peril, made them risk their lives and lose their wives and part with fortunes that they never recovered.

I think the internet is a great marketing tool--but marketing is not my job. I'm a writer. My job is to write novels.

I write horror because I enjoy it. I'm endlessly fascinated by the supernatural, by death, by darkness. And, to be honest, I don't have much choice. This is the way my mind works.

An enigma? That's not a bad persona to have. I should probably shut up and let the mystery continue! It's good for my career.

A light wind blew through here that carried with it scents of sadness and loss, not recognizable odors but smells that corresponded to nothing, chimerical fragrances able to evoke melancholic memories.