One minute you could be getting a smoke in the alley on the Lower East Side with your friends, having drinks and dancing on tables in a popular nightclub. And the next minute, you could be dead.

I still love you. I will always love you, and that is all that matters. I will forgive you anything, and I will forgive you this.

Jack leaped over the gate, his sword aflame. To vanquish his foe and rescue his love.

A picture is worth a thousand texts.

As an author you hope your characters have sparks but truly in the end they have minds of their own!

Now that she decided she knew exactly what she wanted –him- she couldn’t wait to break the news. And if he didn’t want her, she could live with that – what she wouldn’t be able to live with was if she never told him.

Popularity was fickle and elusive, like trying to catch fireflies in a jar. You were either born with it or relegated to wallflower status according to your mysterious and unknowable workings of the universe.