Rachel, my itchy witch," Al said as he tugged the lace at his cuffs. "We've talked about this. You simply must stop collecting nasty little men. How many do you really need, love?

Kisten, please don't leave me," I begged, and his eyes opened. "I'm cold," he said, fear rising in his blue eyes. I held him tighter. "I'm holding you. It's going to be okay." "Tell Ivy," he said with a gasp, clenching in on himself. "Tell Ivy that it wasn't her fault. And tell her that at the end... you remember love. I don't think... we lose our souls... at all. I think God keeps them for us until we... come home. I love you, Rachel." "I love you, too, Kisten," I sobbed, and as I watched, his eyes, memorizing my face, silvered, and he died.

Gaily, if you can't demonstrate the ability to keep her alive, then I will take over her care and get you a dog instead." - Newt

I hate it when she tabs a line," Ivy whispered to Kisten in the corner. "You ever see anything freakier than that?" "You should see the face she makes when she—" "Shut up, Kist!" I exclaimed, my eyes flashing open to find him grinning at me.

The car was full of unhappy people heading west. It was the Great American Family Road Trip, all right. Whaaa-hoo!

Don't fall into the trap of having to have everything perfect to write or wait until the mood strikes you. If you want it as a job, treat it like a job, and just as you don't go to work only when you feel like it, you have to condition yourself to sit and write even when the ideas don't flow.

A demon was asking me what I wanted. My eyes flicked to Al, and he shrugged. “What do you want?” he said softly.