murder

Well, typically the state of hypnosis is perfected at the right combination of light and sound frequency when the mind completely relaxes. At this state, the mind also becomes highly suggestible, which means the word of the hypnotist becomes the new reality of the subconscious mind.

Authors always take rejection badly. They equate it with infanticide.

A killer on the payroll isn't good for business

It's amazing what the discovery of a corpse can do for one's spirits.

My heart is an empty refrigerator.

If you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there".

She skinned her hair back into a ponytail, a style she knew was probably too young for her, but she planned to drive with her windows open and she could ditch the elastic band once she got to the lake.

The image of him shifted with the violent frenzy of leaves. He was there and he wasn__, as the leaves whipped and the lightning fell away in a slow strobe effect across the expanse of sky. How he had gotten up there, I had no idea, but he had been there. Crouched in the tree in the middle of the courtyard, he watched me intently through the open window.

Even Asmodeus, that limping devil who looked through rooftops at men's most secret actions, could not have told which of these thoughts masked an undercurrent of joy -- the joy of the man who know that he has killed wisely and well.

Life, like that water droplet, is everlasting and imperishable. There is only a transition, never an end !

How could I tell Clarence that finding another dead body was anything but dreadful? On the contrary: it was thrilling; it was exciting; it was exhilarating, it was invigorating; to say nothing of electrifying and above all, satisfying.How could I tell the dear man that murder made me feel so gloriously alive?

Every woman wants a cowboy.

That's exactly where you're wrong! Any kind of person can murder. Purely circumstances and not a thing to do with temperament! People get so far -- and it takes just the least little thing to push them over the brink. Anybody. Even your grandmother. I know.

In March of that year, I saw a man named Paul Barkley shot to death. It happened late at night in the parking lot of a café in Santa Rosa called Galileo__.

You may suppose that perhaps this Walter T. Wallace found his destiny in food and passed down to his progeny a legacy like that of the great Colonel Sanders. The folks here in Wallace County would love to be able to tell you this is so. But no, like their granddaddy, the Wallace men were thievin_ crooks, always with a scheme ready to separate the weak from their hard-earned money.

I rested my head on the wall behind me and closed my eyes, wishing my life had a button: Ignore All.

It's weird when you wake of from a bad dream and everything is still bad.

I do not possess the ability to draw or paint.I can__ sing or dance.I can__ knit or sew. But I am an artist. I have the ability to put onto paper, words that tell an intriguing story. I am a writer. A writer is someone who, with just words, can paint a beautiful picture. A writer can open up a world of imagination you didn__ realize was possible. When you open up a book and become so consumed in the story, you feel like you__e a part of it_ you__e standing next to that character and feeling the same way that character feels, That__ the art of a writer. I am an artist. My inspiration is the world around me.My paintbrush is my words.My easel is my computer.My canvas is the mind of my reader.