Eventually everyone dies, but death, in various forms and ways, still comes as a shock. Then they throw dirt in your face. Then the worms eat you. Or they consign you to flames. The flesh sizzles and...
I like to write literature that reads like pulp fiction.
His kiss was like no other! His kiss was enchanted and fairy-tale like. He applied pressure, but just enough to feel his tenderness and warmth. I could feel his heart beating wildly as he pressed his...
But he couldn't feel self-pity in the face of the memorial. He hadn't lost nearly enough as these children, who'd lost their homeland and, in many cases,their whole families. Perhaps they had gained s...
But it is not everything in life that has its ticket, so much. There are things that are not for sale.
Ah, but my dear sir, the why must never be obvious. That is the whole point.
What you do not understand is that there are things that cannot be bought.
You will take his life but you can't take his memory out of us.
I know what happened. I used my inTWINition
I felt it burn all the way down my throat and into my stomach. I felt like I was dying.
Planning a murder takes a lot of prep work.
Yes, you can see the bullet points here, here and here, sir; there are multiple back-slashes, of course. And that’s a forward slash. I would have to call this a frenzied attack. Did anyone hear the in...
When you read the account of a murder - or, say, a fiction story based on murder - you usually begin with the murder itself. That's all wrong. The murder begins a long time beforehand. A murder is the...
William made an ejaculation in his own language that I didn't understand, nor did the abbot understand it, and perhaps it was best for us both, because the word William uttered had an obscene hissing...
Look! A riddle! Time for fun!Should we use a rope or gun?Knives are sharp and gleam so prettyPoison’s slow, which is a pityFire is festive, drowning’s slowHanging’s a ropy way to goA broken head, a na...