The hardest mysteries to solve are the ones you come to near the end, because there isn't enough evidence, not enough to unravel, unless somehow you can go all the way back to the beginning - rewind and replay everything.

I have a number of writers I work with regularly. I write an outline for a book. The outlines are very specific about what each scene is supposed to accomplish.

Tears were dripping onto my dress, but I wasn't making any sound. There was no sound to express thid kind of pain. I didn't want to move, didn't want to do anything. Fang was not waiting for me out in the living room. Tomorrow morning, when I woke up, Fang would still be gone.

To be without love is to be without grace, what matters most in life. We is so much better than I.

He nuzzled my neck, inhaling deeply. “Mmm. You smell so good.” “Oh, yeah,” I said, smirking. “I call this new perfume ‘Le Jungle grime et tropical BO.’ ” “Dirt and sweat. Very sexy.

Walking over to Iggy, he poked him with his shoe. "Does anysing on you vork properly?" Iggy rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Well, I have a highly developed sense of irony." Ter Borcht tsked. "You are a liability to your group. I assume you alvays hold onto someone's shirt, yes? Following dem closely?" "Only when I'm trying to steal their dessert," Iggy said truthfully.

I don't smile as much as I should, even though I smile inside a lot.