I like autumn. The drama of it; the golden lion roaring through the back door of the year, shaking its mane of leaves. A dangerous time; of violent rages and deceptive calm, of fireworks in the pockets and conkers in the fist.

Love not often, but forever.

This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either.

I have an advanced degree in procrastination and another one in paranoia.

The battle of good and evil reduced to a fat woman standing in front of a chocolate shop, saying, Will I? Won’t I? in pitiful indecision.

I speak as I must and cannot be silent.

I love it when my books cause controversy, when people argue violently about the ending.