Nicky looked down at me with a knowledge on his face that he was holding the monster in his arms. I'd have comforted him, but it would have been all lies.

He's no more human than I am, ma petite." At least I'm not dead." That can be remedied.

I am a very linear thinker, so I write beginning to end. I write hundreds of pages per book that never make it into print

What happens in Vegas may stay in Vegas, but what happens in New Orleans, goes home with you.

How do you introduce boyfriend C to boyfriend A after boyfriend A has been such a good sport, of late, about boyfriend B, who is no longer in the picture?

I kissed him on the cheek and left to find Bobby Lee. Him, I trusted to be in the line of fire. But it was more than that: I wasn't sleeping with bobby Lee. I didn't love him. Sometimes love makes you selfish. Sometimes it makes you stupid. Sometimes it reminds you why you love your gun.

I stared at Jean-Claude and it wasn't the beauty of him that made me love him, it was just him. It was love made up of a thousand touches, a million conversations, a trillion shared looks. A love made up of danger shared, enemies conquered, a determination to neither of us would change the other, even if we could. I love Jean-Claude, all of him, because if I took away the Machiavellian plottings, the labyrinth of his mind, it would lessen him, make him someone else.