An Active mind didn't need distraction in its physical environment. It needed a collection of outstanding books and a good lamp. Maybe some cheese and crackers.

Butch nodded as if he knew exactly what was doing. "Like I said, my man, it's whatever. You and me? Same as always, no matter who you screw. Although… if you're into sheep, that would be tough. Don't know if I could handle that.

So will you meet me?” “Yeah. Sure. Where.” “Montrag’s safe house in Connecticut. If you were the one who killed him, you know the address.

All I see are ankles and wrists--and FYI, you're pulling a Mileyfrickin'-Cyrus with that belly flash. Not attractive.

It felt odd to realize she was frightened more by what he might know, and not of what he might be.

I have peanut M&M's up there." "Not my style" "Raisinets." "Feh." "Sam Adams." Thor narrowed his eyes. "Cold?" "Downright icy." Thor crossed his arms over his chest and told him self he was not pouting like a five-year-old. "I want Milk Duds.

I don't read reviews or take any feedback from anyone. Here's the thing: The stories don't even care what I think about them. They don't listen to anybody! My job is simply to describe what I'm shown in my head so that folks who read the books get an idea of what I'm seeing. As long as that happens, I'm doing my job as best I can.