He picked the wrong profession. Should've stayed a prostitute. He'd have made millions. - Cat

All of you, leave," Vlad responded curtly. "That's not nice," I mumbled. "You should talk to them before you bite them, too. Common curtesy.

Killing your rival doesn’t guarantee happiness. Sometimes it ruins any chance you have of it instead. Memories of dead men hold far more power than the annoyances of living ones.

Perhaps some of the appeal of the dangerous-but-yummy paranormal anti-hero lies in his scorn for societal expectations. Yes, women have come a long way, but there are still some cultural stigmas more associated with women than men.

Get stuffed, don't you have more publicity stunts to pull?" Bones shot back. "How about chatting with another writer who can smear your name into greater popularity?" "What, did Anne Rice not return your calls, mate?" Vlad asked scathingly. "Jealousy is such an ugly trait.

Love is a terrible weakness. It gives your enemies a perfect target, clouds your judgement, makes you reckless... and that's on a good day.

Bones glanced behind me, with just the barest inclination of his head. I walked away from him, muttering, "Don't worry, you don't need to have Mencheres break out the invisible straitjacket again. I haven't gone crazy. I just didn't understand until now." He still looked like he was debating having Mencheres lay the power whammy on me, so I sat down by Kira in a very deliberate manner, folding my hands in my lap. There. Didn't I look calm and sane?