Back to work. If I’m [writing] I’m not thinking about the crazy.

Vamps who are dying, or think they are, give a piercing, eardrum-bursting shriek, like the love child of a screech owl and a mountain lion on crystal meth, amplified like a seventies rock band.

I figured even the most jaded and cynical inhabitant might report a bloody girl in a party dress carrying a severed head by its hair.

It looked to me like a vamp version of a pissing contest. Men will be boys.

My yoga practice was and will always be a spiritual experience. I can honestly say, "Yoga delivered me back to GOD!"

You don't have to shout from the mountaintops. Sometimes power comes in a soft, calm, compassionate way, like a quiet warrior.

Admitting that Katie had taken too much blood was on par with saying an adult human had pooped their pants or eaten their own boogers!