Violence wounds the body and it wounds the soul. Of the predator. Of the prey. Of the mourners. Of collective humanity. It diminishes us all.

What gives my books authenticity is that I actually do what it is I'm writing about. I think the fact that I am in the autopsy room, I go to the crime scene and I do work in the lab gives my books this flavor that otherwise they wouldn't have.

I originally worked as an archaeologist in North Carolina, and when bones were found police would take them out to the bones lady at the university, and that was me.

An elite confederacy of nerds. My peeps

Ben yanked Hi sideways as spikes snapped from the wall…Once again, only Ben’s reflexes had saved him. “Please stop doing that!” Ben barked. “Please keep doing that!” Hi warbled.

My line of work makes you aware of the fragility of life. You can get up in the morning, eat your cornflakes, blow-dry your hair, go to work and end up dead.

Ben locked his eyes on mine for a long moment. Then, “How?” “How do you think?” I smiled, then slapped him full across the face