When I got my very first phone call that I'd hit the 'New York Times' list, I had a small rush of 'I've made it!' But the next morning, it occurred to me I didn't know what it was, so I called my agent and asked what being a 'New York Times' bestselling author really meant. He informed me that I was now a thousand pound gorilla.

Who do you love? It's a question anyone should be able to answer. A question that defines a life, creates a future, guides most minutes of one's days. Simple, elegant encompassing. Who do you love?

I think one of the appeals of suspense is to safely explore our innermost fears.

You can be the hunter, or you can be the hunted.

You try as a parent. You love beyond reason. You fight beyond endurance. You hope beyond despair. You never think, until the very last moment, that it still might not be enough.

Women cry. Men laugh. Whiners moan. Men laugh. Wimps complain. Men laugh.

Once, I was my mother's daughter. Now I am my daughter's mother.