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

Love not often, but forever.

Some books you read. Some books you enjoy. But some books just swallow you up, heart and soul.

The process of writing is a little like madness, a kind of possession not altogether benign.

Their love was something which coloured the air between them like sunlight.

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.

As authors, we all expect criticism from time to time, and we all have our ways of coping with unfriendly reviews.