I Can Think Of A Lot Of

I Wish I Could Say I Write 9-5. It's Usually More Like 8-6, Every Day But The Weekends.

Rachel, You Summon Demons. You’re Good At It. Get Over It, Then Find A Way To Make It Work For You. It’s Not Going To Go Away.

What Are You Doing Now?" Al Questioned "seeing If Your Circumcision Is Gone? It Is. My Expression Went Blank, And Trent Hesitated. He Looked At Me, And I Put A Hand To My Mouth, Face Flaming. "oh. My. God. Trent. I'm Sorry" "um" Trent Said, Clearly At A Loss. "call Me Tomorrow," Al Said Seriously, "i've Got A Curse That Will Take Care Of That. Unless You Like The Snake In A Turtleneck Look

They Weren’t Idiots, But I Attracted Trouble That Just Begged Me To Beat It Into Submission.

I Gestured My Frustration. “i Don’t Know. She’s Much Better Already. She Wasn’t Talking Half An Hour Ago. Look At Her Now.” We All Turned, Finding Ceri Sobbing Quietly And Drinking Her Tea In Small Reverent Sips As The Pixy Girls Hovered Over Her. Three Were Plating Her Long, Fair Hair And Another Was Singing To Her. Okay,” I Said As We Turned Back. “bad Example.