Chicken, yeah, that's me. I'd rather fight an old rogue-vamp in my underwear, with my bare hands, than deal with relationship problems.

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.

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!

You gonna put on your big-girl panties and fight with the boys, now?” He looked over his shoulder as if he expected me to blush or something. “Who says I wear panties?” I was certain that he flushed red this time. Laughing, I left him shaking his head and went on inside to find the Kid. We had work to do.

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

Walk softly and carry a big stick. Or stomp loudly and carry enough firepower to start a small war. Whatever worked

Alarm stole over me on little kitten feet.