Well...he's back in an exam room. Should I get out a quarter?" Everybody groaned. There was only one He out of the legions of male patients they treated, and coin bingo was typically how the staff decided who had to deal with him.

I've always kind of thought that reviews written by readers for readers are a kind of private space between consumers. It's their right to say anything they like about your material, and authors need to know that and respect that. As for my end, I'm aware of what my sales are, so I know that my books are working in the marketplace, at least for now, and beyond that, I have to just do my thing and stay focused.

When Vishous pushed open the door to the exam room, he got a gander at the kind of seating arrangement that made him think fondly of castration.

I think you and he need to talk. And once you do, I won’t have to worry about being jumped like a felon again.” Blay frowned. “He and I have nothing to say to each other—” “With all due respect, the ligature marks around my neck would suggest otherwise.

End of the day, the quick and the dead are the same. Everyone's just looking for home.

It was a universal truth among males that anytime you saw a guy get it in the nuts, you experienced a shot of phantom pain in your own croquet set. As Lassiter crouched beside the Brother’s pretzel of a body, he was feeling a little nauseous himself, and he took a moment to cup what hung between his legs—just to reassure the boys downstairs that however much of an iconoclast he was, some things were sacred.

One shot. That was all you got. - Isaac