I had been downright paranoid all afternoon, aware of everyone near me. By the time I went for the car, my neck and shoulders were knotted into one painful ache. The most frightening thing I'd seen all afternoon had been the prices on the designer clothing.

He said,'Trust yourself, mon ami. You are not your friend with his so-sad tale. And Anita is not human. Through us she is more than that. Both of us huddle around her humanity like it is the last candle flame in a world of darkness. But by our very love, we make her less human, and more.

I've been writing stories since I was 12. 'Writer's Digest' was one of my writing teachers, actually.

Everyone has their weaknesses. Some people smoke. I collect stuffed penguins. If you won't tell, I won't.

The truth may not set you free, but used carefully, it can confuse the hell out of your enemies.

Never argue with your characters; they know themselves better than you do

What does it mean when the monsters are so afraid of you that you make them cry? That maybe monster depends on which end of the gun your on, or that I was just that good at my job.