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

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.

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.

Those Grimm brothers," she said with a sigh, "they'll never amount to anything." And she was right because all they ever became was writers.

A [reformed] vampire ... mostly tries to make reparation for his previous evil by doing good deeds-most commonly, apparently, going into the crime solving business.

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

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