This looks like a job for inadvisably applied magic if ever I saw one.

It's not Brits who think American readers are a bunch of whinging morons with the geo-social understanding of a wire coathanger, it's American editors.

Of course, just because we've heard a spine-chilling, blood-curdling scream of the sort to make your very marrow freeze in your bones doesn't automatically mean there's anything wrong.

The wages of sin is death but so is the salary of virtue, and at least the evil get to go home early on Fridays.

Cats will amusingly tolerate humans only until someone comes up with a tin opener that can be operated with a paw.

Om rubed his head. This wasn't god-like thinking. It seemed simpler when you were up here. It was all a game. You forgot that it wasn't a game down there. People died. Bits got chopped off. We're like eagles up here, he thought. Sometimes we show tortoise how to fly. Then we let go.

Questions don't have to make sense, Vincent," said Miss Susan. "But answers do.