The Sun Rose Like A

I Know That I Want To Bring Sex And Horror Together As I Have Been Able To In My Books.

Everybody Is A Book Of Blood; Wherever We're Opened, We're Red.

The Great Grey Beast February Had Eaten Harvey Swick Alive.

It Was As Though In These Last Minutes Together - When They Had So Much To Say - They Could Say Nothing Of The Least Significance, For Fear It Open The Floodgates.

At Best You Can Hold Death At Bay, You Can Pretend It Isn't There; But To Deny It Totally Is A Sickness. And I Think That Horror Fiction Is One Of The Ways To Approach These Problems, And, Perversely Perhaps, To Enjoy A Vicarious Confrontation With Them.