My fondest wish, I suppose, would be to die at the keyboard right after finishing a book, perhaps with a little time off to have some really good sex. It's not, 'Oh, thank God, this is book No. 250. I can die now.'

Damn me to hell or take me to heaven, but for Gods sake, do it now.

She walked with a ghost of herself, one full of potential and possibility. One who was fearless. Where had that girl gone?

[First line] “The business of murder took time, patience, skill, and a tolerance for the monotonous.

My boyfriend and I are badasses.

The man's got more money than God, and he sends you a bag of coffee?

I promised myself that no matter where I went, what I did, I'd never take anything for granted again.