Respect And Love Your Readers. Write For

I Could Use Some Help With An Fta. What's Your Problem? He's Old, And I'll Look Like A Loser If I Shoot Him.

Yeah, I Like That Idea. Maybe He'll Shoot At Us Again. I Was Hoping Someone Would Shoot At Me Today. That Was The First Thing I Said When I Got Up: Boy, I Hope I Get Shot At Today.

It Was Lorraine In Her Nightie And Mo In His Cap. They'd Just Settled Their Brains For A Long Winter's Nap In Front Of The Television. When Out In The Lot There Arose Such A Clatter, They Sprang From Their Recliners To See What Was The Matter. Away To The Window They Flew Like A Flash, Tore Open The Blinds And Threw Up The Sash. And What To Their Wondering Eyes Should Appear, But Stephanie Plum And Yet Another Of Her Cars Burning Front To Rear.

There’s Always Tomorrow.” “exactly,” She Said, Finishing Off Her First Doughnut, Selecting A Second. Maybe She Wouldn’t Starve To Death, She Decided. Maybe She’d Eat Herself Into Obesity And Explode. Death By Doughnut.

I Almost Never Shoot People.