People always talk about good, fresh country air, but I kept getting wiffs of something that was neither good nor fresh but definitely country.

People always talk about good, fresh country air, but I kept getting wiffs of something that was neither good nor fresh but definitely country.

if Saint Bruce doesn't like your poem, he chops your head off.

The wolf sniffed beneath the door to be sure this was a human cottage. The scent was undeniable. No pigs, except in bacon form. The wolf thought bacon form was a very sensible way for pigs to behave.

There, close enough to spit on--if I'd been a barbarian and inclined to spit--was the dragon.

Number one rule for fiction: Coincidence can be used to worsen a characters predicament, but never to solve his problems.

Then, early, early, early in the morning-just as in countless Disney films-I heard a rooster crow. But guess what? They don't do it just once.