Rule number four for me as a writer? Plotlines are like sharks: They either keep moving or they die. ~J.R. Ward

My twin's not broken. He's ruined. Do you understand the difference? With broken maybe you can fix him. Ruined? All you can do is wait to bury him.

Life is too frickin' crazy sometimes, it really is.... You never know what's going to happen, do you.

Maybe I could do it." Darius shot him a dry look. "You want to try to get back into your house after the fact? Wellsie will stake you through the heart and leave you for the sun, my friend. Tohrment winced. "Good point" "And then she'll come looking for me." Both males shuttered.

With that, he looked over his shoulder. Blay's breath shot out of his lungs. "Oh... my God," he whispered.

There was both love and despair in his voice. He was truly handicapped when it came to emotions, and falling in love hadn't changed that.

Phury lit a blunt and eyed the sixteen cans of Aqua Net that were lined up on Butch and V's coffee table. "What's doing with the hair spray? You boys going drag on us?" Butch held up the lenght of PVC pipe he was punching a hole in. "Potato launcher, my man. Big fun." "Excuse me ?" "Didn't you ever go to summer camp ?" "Basket weaving and woodcarving are for humans. No offense, but we have better things to teach our youngs.