Oh, My God! It's A Killer Pomeranian."

Let’s Just Say That Being Able To Contact Ghosts Makes For Some Very Interesting Ménages á Trios… And Ménages á Quartre, And Ménages á … Whatever Five Is In French. ~jaime Vegas

He Bent, Lips Coming To Mine And — 'derek? Chloe?' It Was Kit, Opening The Back Door. Derek Let Out A Low Growl. 'never Fails.' I Turned To Kit. 'how Is She?' 'we’re Going To Take Her Back To The House Now. She’s Unconscious Again.' 'then We’ll Walk Back,' Derek Said. 'give You Room In The Van To Lay Her Down.' His Dad Agreed And Went Back Inside. As We Walked Toward The Steps, I Looked Down At Derek’s Hand, Holding Mine. 'no One’s Around,' He Said. 'and We Can Take The Back Way.' 'good,' I Said, And Entwined My Fingers With His.

Speaking Of Death, Leblanc Boasted He Could Kill Me In The Waiting Room. I Broke His Wrist. He Wasn't Impressed.

Young Writers Need To Be Encouraged To Write - Just Write - With No Restrictions On Form, Style Or Content.

You Were Just Worried About Me." An Exhale, Relieved That I Had Understood. "yeah" I Turned. "because You Think I'm Worth It" He Put His Fingers Under My Chin. "i Absolutely Think Your Worth It." "but You Don't Think You Are." His Mouth Opened. Shut. "that's What This Is About, Derek. You Won't Let Us Worry About You Because You Don't Think You're Worth It. But I Do. I Absolutely Do.