I often question my sanity. Occasionally, it replies.

I love language, words, and all the lovely, exciting, and heart wrenching things you can do with them. Pick the right ones, put them in the right order, and you’ve created a moment in time where the reader forgets about the late car payment, the dirty dishes, the impending workweek. You have created a state of bliss. Or negligence, depending on your perspective.

You’re the reason I breathe

It isn’t the fall that will kill you, but the sudden stop.

Come here often?' I asked instead, humoring no one but myself. So it was totally worth it.

But, you're his son," I said, trying really hard to hate him. "You're the son of Satan. Literally." "And you are the stepdaughter of Denise Davidson." Wow. That was a bit harsh, but, "Okay, point taken.

Who is Dr. A. von Holstein? And is he related, by chance, to a race of cows?