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Are you the welcoming committee? Or has Jeremy finally chained you up to the front gate where you belong? I missed you too.

Kelley Armstrong

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Kelley Armstrong
Age: 55
Born: 1968
Born: December 14
Novelist
Writer
city of Sudbury
Sarah
Committees
Missed
Gates
Belong
Jeremy
Welcome
Welcoming
Finally
Chained
Fronts
Gate
Front
Committee

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Bigger room, darling. Like I said, we need a bigger room.
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Who cared whether you could change motor oil when you could snap a rottweiler’s neck in 2.8 seconds? Now there was a practical skill.
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Where's Simon?...Is he okay? Why isn't he here? She glared at Derek. Where'd you leave him? Passed out in an alley. Derek frowned in thought. Not sure where, though.
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It wasn't until I was in my teens that I started admiring writers as inspirations for my own work, and my earliest influences there were Stephen King, Marion Zimmer Bradley and Richard Adams.
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Lavina led me to an abandoned warehouse. I think that at some point someone decreed that all clandestine meetings must be held in one. Woe to the criminal overlord who lives in a city thriving with commerce, with no empty warehouses to be found. He probably needs to build one, just to have a place to arrange late-night meetings. (Bewitched)
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I grew up writing about the paranormal, and I blame too many Saturday mornings watching Scooby Doo.
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Using supernatural beings to build the perfect weapon? Intriguing idea. Not really, I said. They did it on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. A sub-par season. I slept through half the episodes.
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He balled up my discarded sweatshirt and put it against his shoulder. “Go on,” he said. “I don’t bite.” “And from what I hear, that’s a good thing.” He gave a rumbling chuckle. “Yeah, it is.” I leaned against his shoulder.
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Uh-uh. We've played this game before. I hide. You never seek. I'm a bit slow on the uptake, but I'm beginning to sense a pattern.
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Yes, I said You were saved by a girl. Horrible, isn't it? He slid out and looked down at my bare legs. Not just a girl, but a half-naked one. Now that's hot. If I'm still unconscious, don't wake me, okay?
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I thought you were all-seeing.” All-knowing, not all-seeing!” he snapped. “I’m a God, not Santa Claus!
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Oh, my God! It's a killer Pomeranian. I glanced up at Derek. It's a tough call, but I think you can take him.
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Boo, I said. He reacted as all mutts react when I confront them. He leapt from his chair and dove for the nearest exit, shaking in terror. In my dreams. He glanced at me and started looking for Clay. It never failed. Mutts only quaked when I appeared because it usually meant Clayton wasn't far behind. I was nothing but a harbinger of doom.
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I understand that I may make mistakes with characters who don't share my own background, but I commit to doing my best.
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I envied it not the idea of having so much money that you could throw it away, but the thought of growing up in a world where someone cared so much about your happiness and so little about what you accomplished in life.
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Hello, Aaron, Brigid said, sliding up to him and running a finger down his chest. You're looking good . . . as always. Aaron lifted her finger off his shirt and let it drop. Put some clothing on, Brigid. She smiled up at him. Why? Tempted? Yeah, to cover my eyes.
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As I recall, I was still dressed when I fell asleep. Just making sure you were comfortable. And making yourself equally comfortable, I see.
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Here I had a wonderful man who cared for me and I was screwing around with a self-absorbed, conniving monster who'd betrayed me in the worst possible way.
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I have to. I've been fighting it all night. I'm going to lose. My battle is as futile as a woman feeling the first pangs of labor and deciding it's an inconvenient time to give birth. Nature wins out. It always does.
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Did you use a chainsaw? Joey said. I seem to recall you like chainsawa. There wasn't a power outlet. Clay turned to me. That's what I want for Father's Day, darling. A gas powered chainsaw.
Kelley Armstrong