Maybe they know what I know, that the true way to a man's heart is six inches of metal between his ribs. Sometimes four inches will do the job, but to be really sure, I like to have six.

Theresa strode over to us in a swish of cloth. "Enough of this, animator. He can't do it, so he pays the price. Either leave now, or join us at our...feast." Are you having rare Who-roast-beast?" I asked. What are you talking about?" It's from Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. You know the part, 'And they'd Feast! Feast! Feast! Feast! Feast! They would feast on Who-pudding and rare Who-roast-beast.'" You are crazy." So I've been told.

I looked at Micah, who shrugged. I looked at Rafael, who shook his head. Nice that none of us knew why he was undressing.

You're up to something," I said. He turned, eyes wide, long fingers pressed to his heart. "Moi?" "Yeah, you.

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

I will go to my grave seeing the look on your face at the last. Keep it up and you'll go sooner than later.

They be crazier than we are.