It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.

Wow, you're never allowed to sleep late again. You're crankier than a fat guy in stilettos.

Because you know that's not how you want it to end. You know I'd love to have you with me, and it will be that way, one day. But this isn't the way it ought to happen.

I remember being intrigued by the idea of school-in-a-box, just-add-water-and-Sam.

Many, many readers have written asking me wistfully about the nature of Sam and Grace's relationship, and I can assure you, that sort is absolutely real. Mutual, respectful, enduring love is completely attainable as long as you swear you won't settle for less.

In some parallel universe, there was a Gansey who could tell Blue that he found the ten inches of her bare calves far more tantalizing than the thirteen cubic feet of bare skin Orla sported. But in this universe, that was Adam’s job. He was in a terrible mood.

Not dead-dying. Funny how two things could be so similar and yet so far apart