Dante likes to tell stories.
I waited in line at the grocery store and stared at the tabloid magazines.
By the time Mariel arrives at the water’s edge, the sun’s hanging low.
I wouldn’t go out of my way to befriend Virginie, but I’m flattered that she accepts me into her circle.
Marguerite had always feared dying in a fire.
Liam was six when he started to shimmy up the doorway moldings.
Hi, Honey! Oh, Granny is so glad to see y
My name is Elizabeth Wellington.
There is an evil to him that goes beyond the worst I have read in books or seen in movies—an evil far more threatening than the shadowy figures I bring to life in my stories.
It is a cold February day as the city labours through the aftermath of a blizzard.