I started off like everyone else does, slogging but having a compulsion to put words on paper. I didn't write or read horror or fantasy, other than children's fantasy, until I was in my teens

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.

I'd never met coffee that wasn't wonderful. It was just a matter of how wonderful it was.

Love is too precious to be ashamed of.

Illusion is sometimes all that keeps us sane." - Anita

What we prefer to read is sort of like sexual preference, you like what you like. Most of the time you have no clue why.

Stupidity isn't punishable by death. If it was, there would be a hell of a population drop.