What if all religiouns were stories, and all stories were true?

Horror, let’s face it, is basically pretty dumb. You’re writing about events that are preposterous, and the trick is to dress them up in language so compelling that the reader doesn’t care.

Right at this moment, I only want silence. I believe that the end of life is silence in the love people have for you. I’ve actually been running through what people have said about the...

Lover,” she whispers, and closes her eyes.It falls upon her.Love is like dying.

Exercise care with what it is you do when you hold my heart in your hands. For it is my love that makes you special. When it is gone, you shall soon know it and...

Hello Clarice…

Even then I found the word fitting, soothing.Fireflies.Fire flies.Fire, fly.

Quinn seemed to have become one of a jaded philosophical society, a group of arcane deviates. Their raison d’etre was a kind of mystical masochism, forcing initiates toward feats of occult daredevilry – “glimpsing the...

When she first saw him, she took him for a ghost. His jet-black hair fluttered in the breeze as he walked, letting her see his eyes. They seemed haunted, lost in some way. He was...

But sometimes, in tight corners, when your back is against the wall and the world is against you, you have to fight back in unexpected ways.

Between the world we seeand the things we fear, there are doors. When they are opened, nightmares become reality.

And when he had crossed the bridge, the phantoms came to meet him.

I often stood and stared into those tunnels and thought about what happened there; how I was separated from it only by time.” – The Procession

As a writer, I will go down any dark alley, inch my way through the tightest crawl space, and feed on your every fear. I will take your sense of calm and tear it to...

There are some that even beg for the Chamber,” she could hear Isaar saying in the back of her mind. “Soft minded fools or broken souls that would rather live a fabricated existence than deal...

As Roran watched, the man’s arms, neck, and chest shriveled, and his bones appeared in sharp relief-from the bowlike curve of his collarbones to the hollow saddle of his hips, where his stomach hung like...

Buried and burned. Never find them. Never. Buried and buried.

I could not help feeling that they were evil things– mountains of madness whose farther slopes looked out over some accursed ultimate abyss. That seething , half-luminous cloud-background held ineffable suggestions of a vague, ethereal...

Believe in yourself, Follow your dreams, and all things are possible!

I didn’t want to be the woman who gave herself over willingly to the first man to notice her. I didn’t want to be the stupid girl in every novel who loved without question and...

The dead have existed for as long as the living, give or take a few years. But what good has that done them?

Darkness is a defining characteristic of Rotters. But it’s worthy to remember that darkness is just that—it’s dark—and what is being concealed in the dark is not just the horrible and fearsome, it’s also the...

PG-13 horror, I just don’t watch that.

If the town were a black hole, I was the helpless star being sucked into oblivion. It was an oblivion I craved.

The unknown characters of writing seem to be endowed with an evil of life of their own as though sentient, and fain would wrest themselves forth from the parchment and wreak mischief on whomsoever gazes...

In the deep Mysteries of the world, their belong time, still unexplored and to be explored.

There’s a queer streak in human natures. Men come back to places for secret reasons, for feelings they cannot resist.’More than men come back,” I said.

It’s only after you’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.–Chuck Palahniuk

We lie to protect our children, and in lying we expose them to the greatest of harms

My brothers’ faces haunt me. I hear their children, my nieces and nephews, asking me why I came home without their daddies. I think of their wives, imagine their questions. Our parents, forever seeing the...

The very winds whispered in soothing accents, and maternal Nature bade me weep no more.

Fred Ruskin barreled through the rain down Buchanan Street in his battered Pacer, the jar his dead wife had directed him to retrieve from his nephew’s coffin bouncing in the seat beside him.

…a fissure appeared. Splinters of plastic broke away around it, and the fissure widened, radiating further fractures.When the first leg broke out, Simon tried to shriek.

From “Lady In Waiting” in the anthology The Morgue :Now I have yet to meet the corpse could hold up its end of a conversation, so at most I might whistle while fixin’ one up...

All of my chupacabra books are like novelizations of movies that haven’t been made yet.

There’s no better way for a woman to punish a man than to make him sleep away from her.

‘Eighth one this week,’ he said.

Did I never tell you Sassicaia makes me horny?

Blood is really warm,it’s like drinking hot chocolatebut with more screaming.

Blood began to flow, at first cautiously, as if embarrassed by its appearance; a few thin red lines exploring the gravitational trajectory of its new terrain. Now it flowed faster, steadily staining her pale flesh...

We ask only to be reassuredAbout the noises in the cellarAnd the window that should not have been open

It ain’t the blows we’re dealt that matter, but the ones we survive.

We’d stared into the face of Death, and Death blinked first. You’d think that would make us feel brave and invincible. It didn’t.

When they were silent for a moment the quiet weight of the house pressed down from all around them.

Yeah, there has to be a few screws loose when a girl asks you to drop everything to spend a three-day weekend on very short notice, and you say okey dokey without a care in...

For a moment or two before the spell took effect, he was aware of all the sounds around him: rain splashing on metal and leather, and running down canvas; horses shuffling and snorting; Englishmen singing...

Everyone knows a Wixen when we smell one. You smell the prettiest, a mixture of strawberries, sex and deceit. Dior should bottle it.

I feel a blood moon rising” Neesa

Self-confidence is usually little more than wishful thinking in a thigh-high pair of Come F*ck Me boots.

This is why it is important never to pick or smell flowers, and to always wear headgear when admiring them.