The night is the hardest time to be alive and 4am knows all my secrets.

I certainly wanted to write a book that was honest about New Orleans without explaining it to death, so much so that the first draft contained references absolutely incomprehensible to anyone who hasn't lived here for several years.

Why bother? I was right all along: the second you make yourself vulnerable to someone, they start drawing blood.

If you want something, you don't wait for the world to deal it out for you. You take it.

This is the point being missed by readers who lament Liquor's lack of hot sex scenes, probably because they aren't old enough to understand that a passionate relationship could be about anything other than sex.

I'd much rather do an obviously commercial writing project than get a day job.

I don't like to talk about work in progress, but the novel I'm working on now is definitely not horror.