GENA SHOWALTER

I'll usually see a scene in my head, playing like a movie trailer. After I've written that scene, everything takes off from there.

I have been overwhelmed by the response to 'The Queen of Zombie Hearts.'

'Wicked Nights' is the story of Zacharel, the new leader of the Army of Disgrace - heavenly warriors in danger of falling from grace - and Annabelle, a human who has spent the last four years locked in an institution for the criminally insane.

To be honest, I rewrote 'Wicked Nights' a number of times. I just wasn't happy with the end result.

My husband is actually the nicest guy in the world. He's my sweetheart and best friend, and one of the things I love best about him is that no matter how terrible I look - and believe me, it can get bad - he makes me feel pretty.

I just write the characters the way I see them. And maybe that's because I'm surrounded by the most amazing men, from my father to my husband to all of my brothers. They are true heroes!

Last time I blushed was when I smoothed my hands over the back of my dress and actually touched skin. Seems the material was tucked into my underwear, and everyone around me had gotten a show. This, of course, was at a romance writers' conference.

Once I have the grain of an idea, it haunts me until I finish the story. I don't like to be haunted, of course, so immediately get to work.

The moment I finish 'any' book, my feels are pretty much the same. Goes a little something like this: It's done? Whimper. Tears of joy. Oh, my back. Relief! Shower! Food! Sleep! Oh, my back. You mean I get to catch up on my favorite TV shows? Tears of joy. Oh, my back.

I have so many favorite authors; I can't name just one.

“Aren’t all fairy tales based in fact? You yourself are supposed to be nothing more than a myth. Pandora’s box is a story parents read to their children at night,” she countered. “That means life itself is a fairy tale. Like the characters, we all live and love and search for a happily-ever-after.”

I'll take the cemetery," Kane said. He didn't sound excited. Rather, he sounded resigned. "The club might collapse if I go.

I'm king of the World, bitches. Come in here and bask in my glory.(Strider)

If all we've got to look forward to is disloyalty and treachery, why do we even make friends?" "Again, human nature. Hoping for the best is what drives us.

Ava said her hand accidentally slipped and made contact with her guy's nose. I said Repeatedly? And she said, 'Uh, yeah. I'm really clumsy.

Strider's bedroom "The only thing hanging on the wall that wasn't a weapon was the portrait just over the bed. No. Not true, he thought then. The portrait was a weapon, too. Of seduction. In it Strider was utterly naked and whisking through the cloads like an avenging angel. He was holding a teddy bear in one hand and a stream of pink ribbons in the other. Anya had given him the nearly life-size monstrasity as a joke. But the joke was on her. He loved the thing.

The next day she’d examined her red satin sandals and with a frown said, “I’m thinking about buying two snakes.” His are you kidding me “Why?” had caused her to shrug. “I’d name them Leftie and Rightie and when they were big enough, they’d become Mamma’s boots.

So what. He was made of awesome. Anyone who couldn't see that wasn't smart enough to be with him, anyway.

You know, you’re pretty when you smile,” she said, patting the side of his cheek. “Fierce, woman. I am fierce.” “If you say so.

Her little fists pummeled at him, and he accepted the abuse. Until he realized she’d made an improper fist and was actually hurting herself. He wound an arm around her waist, spun her and slammed her into the hard line of his body to still her. “Let me go!” “In a minute.” As she struggled, he pulled her thumb out from beneath her fingers and rearranged her fist. “Hit like this.” Done, he released her.

But I gotta say, I am so proud right now.” Axel flattened his hand over his heart. “You borrowed my patented move, proving I’m made of more than awesome. I’m awesalicious. Is that a word? It’s probably a girl word, but who cares! Seriously. Do you see a tear in my eye? Because I’m pretty sure I feel one.

He reclined on a delightfully cushioned lounge in the sprawling ranch Paris had rented. In Dallas, Texas, of all places. Promiscuity had decked himself out, too, wearing a Stetson (weird), no shirt (understandable), unfastened jeans (smart) and cowboy boots (weird again). Dude looked ready to rustle cattle or something.

Shush me again, I dare you." - Annabelle

William: What do you think of the fact that your home has been invaded by women? Maddox: I couldn’t be more pleased, as long as none of them does something to hurt Ashlyn. And I take full credit for starting the trend.