I think the official name for such activity is procrastination by chocolate hobnobs. Successful authors are the type who type and who do not indulge in hobnobbing on the couch.

I have a free wheeling mind with dodgy brakes. Once I start going downhill I find it hard to stop and usually end up going over the handlebars.

Shane raised his brows when he set eyes on my apron. “Been roped into galley duties?” “Nah. I slaughtered Leo with an electric carving knife. I put this on so I could dismember his body without mucking up my t-shirt.

All too often I try to skate away from the things I’m afraid of and things I don’t like and am unwilling to accept. I’m selfish and difficult to handle. I give my men cause for concern. I worry them, but they haven’t given up on me yet and I love them all the more for it.

They’re simply seeking an interlude from emotional pain and searing mental agony, a sleep from which they’ll awaken to discover they’re the person they always wanted to be.

As individuals, we are all just a life in a day of Wednesday.

Everybody in the world has a nice smile, but the ones you love have the nicest smiles of all.

I bet when Winston Churchill was writing his memoirs he didn’t keep getting interrupted by two blokes bawling that the ties they took off the night before had mysteriously disappeared, and demanding I find them, seeing as I was the one last seen tied up with them.

Woolies had a DVD sale on so I treated myself to a couple or five plus two CD's, one of which is The Smiths. It'll come in handy when my credit card statement hits the mat and I need something to listen to that's conducive to suicide.

Sorry Miss