You'd think a sociopath assassin wouldn't have a fan following but he does.

You either mellow at 30, or your head explodes - take your choice.

What happens in Vegas may stay in Vegas, but what happens in New Orleans, goes home with you.

One of my rules is never explain. A writer is a lot like a magician, if you explain how the trick works then a lot of the magic turns mundane.

It wasn't just my beast's hunger, but Jean-Claude's blood thirst and Richard's craving for flesh. It was all that and the ardeur running through all of it, so that one hunger fed into the next in an endless chain, a snake eating it's own tail, an Ouroboros of desires.

And there you go again, that tone in your voice, never a word out of place, but your tone says clearly, 'You are a fucking psycho bitch and I hate you.