Being
infected, being a vampire, it’ s always you. Maybe it’ s more you than ever before. It’ s you as you
always were, deep down inside.

One fine day, in the middle of the night, two dead boys got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other. They pulled out their swords and shot one another. One deaf cop, on the beat heard the noise, and came and shot the two dead boys.

Once someone's hurt you, it's harder to relax around them, harder to think of them as safe to love. But it doesn't stop you from wanting them.

I don't feel prolific. I feel like I'm plodding along. Each day you sit down, and you hope that you get your work done.

I thought of how proud he was when he took the marks- cutting the skin of his throat in a long slash and then packing it with ashes until keloid scars rose up.
He called it his second smile.

What an author doesn't know could fill a book.