Every Once In A While, I'll Have

I Don't Smile As Much As I Should, Even Though I Smile Inside A Lot.

In The Dictionary, Next To The Word Stress, There Is A Picture Of A Midsize Mutant Stuck Inside A Dog Crate, Wondering If Her Destiny Is To Be Killed Or To Save The World. Okay, Not Really. But There Should Be.

He Gives My Hand A Tight Squeeze, But That Desperation, That Urgency Between Us Is Gone. No Insecurities. Max And Fang. Fang And Max. No Longer A Question. We Just Are.

That'd Be Just What I Need: A Rash Of Car Thefts Across America, Committed By Dedicated Readers.

I Stood My Ground. "you Evil Scientist Are All The Same--evil. Count Me Out." Fang And I Brushed Past Mr. God And Walked Quickly But Smoothly To The Exit. It Was Barely Noon, And I'd Already Made A Huge Enemy. Dang, I'm Good.