What am I? Let's just say I won't fetch a stick for you. I won't beg for treats. And, no matter how nicely you ask, I will not roll over and play dead.

Clearly it was time to consider rescheduling that optometrist appointment I'd missed last fall.

There are just as many bitches out there as bastards. Equal opportunity asshole-ism.

He was tall and scrawny with a face that could be mistaken with Keith Richards on a bad day.

The rottweiler stood his ground and waited for me to take the next step in the dance of ritualized intimidation. Instead, I leaped at him. Screw ritual. Now was not the time to stand on ceremony.

Young writers need to be encouraged to write - just write - with no restrictions on form, style or content.

Another werewolf thing. Like most animals, we spent a large part of our lives engaged in the three Fs of basic survival. Feeding, fighting and... reproduction.