Sweat isn’t a lollipop or a bag of money. Sweat may not be as pretty or fun as shivering. But sweat is a necessary evil in most cases and a physical sign that you’re having sex correctly.

Jack took a deep breath. "Why is it so easy for you to dismiss the truth for your convenience? You have to understand that the personal is political, right?

A vampire can't come into your home unless invited. We invite too many bloodsuckers into our living rooms and wonder why there are holes in our neck.

Connor smiled…. “Ye made a mistake, lad. A dire one, I’m afraid. Ye ran into a fella like me. Too bad for you.

“We have police business with this young man. Unfortunately, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

Ricky stood in the snow with one sneaker untied and his backpack hanging far too low on his back. His breath misted in the frigid December air. He shook, but not from the cold. His mother taught him to layer up, making it almost impossible to catch a chill.

No, his shivers were from fear. A fear he had every year. But this year was going to be different.

Martha took Lamar’s hand. “This gang warfare is senseless. It will get you nowhere,” she said. Then she took Paulie’s hand. “Don’t you understand that if you beat Lamar and his boys, there will always be someone else waiting to take you on. The battle will never end.”

The old wooden door was a sentry protecting those inside.

What appeared to be a man, hovered over a smoldering fire smoking a cigarette. His bony purple fingers tightly gripping a rectangular bottle.

The bell jingled over the door. Frankie looked up. His apron stained with dried blood. A cleaver in his right hand and the limp leg of a of a recently slaughtered lamb in his other.

This yard is fantastic. There’s never a shortage of poo. Piles of poo everywhere. Look! There’s one! And another over there! And another! Oh, boy, how long has this one been here? Poo doesn’t go rotten does it? Nah, of course not!