Man, that did his ego good. Matter of fact, she hit him with anything like that again, he was going to feel like he could bench-press a city bus. With a jet plane on its roof.

A hand landed on his shoulder like an anvil. “How’d you like to stay for dinner?” Butch looked up. The guy was wearing a baseball cap and had some kind of marking—was that a tattoo, on his face? “How’d you like to be dinner?” said another one, who looked like some kind of model.

Conflict is the microscope of a book. When it's trained on a character, you see what's underneath the narratives of physical description. You see whether someone is strong or weak, principled or apathetic, heroic or villainous." (J.R. on writing the BDB series)

And as he held his first true lover against him, feeling that familiar difference in their heights and smelling that wonderful cologne, part of him wanted to debate this break up until they both gave in and kept trying. But that wasn’t fair.

Her perfume or soap or whatever it was reminded him of sandalwood and something else. Oh, right...orgasms.

I always root for the monster.

Have I mentioned you are the hottest geek I've ever known ?