By Tink's Diaphram...!

His Eyes Met Mine At The Soft Touch, And A Chime Seemed To Shake The Ley Line, Realigning The Universe. He Was Mine.

Algaliarept Varied Its Shape, Sifting Through My Mind Without Me Even Knowing To Choose What Scared Me The Most. Once It Had Been Ivy. Then Kisten —until I Had Pinned Him In An Elevator In A Foolish Moment Of Vampire-induced Passion. It's Hard To Be Scared Of Someone After You've French-kissed Him.

I Do So Like All-encompassing Words. Verb, Adjective, Noun. Yes, You Are Shitted.

People Ask Me What I Do In My Spare Time, And I Look At Them Blankly, Truly Believing That I Don't Even Have Spare Time, And If I Did, I'd Probably Use It For Something Mundane, Like Chipping Away At The Mound Of Laundry Rising To Dangerous Proportions In The Back Room.

Don't Fall Into The Trap Of Having To Have Everything Perfect To Write Or Wait Until The Mood Strikes You. If You Want It As A Job, Treat It Like A Job, And Just As You Don't Go To Work Only When You Feel Like It, You Have To Condition Yourself To Sit And Write Even When The Ideas Don't Flow.