Uh-uh. We've Played This Game Before. I

Do I Pass, Dr. Saunders?

One Second He Was In My Face, Making Me Feel Stupid And Useless. The Next He Was Like This: Hovering, Concerned, Worried.

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.

Derek Caught My Arm Again As I Started To Move--at This Rate, It Was Going To Be As Sore As My Injured One. "dog," He Said, Jerking His Chin Toward The Fenced Yard. "it Was Inside Earlier." Expecting To See A Doberman Slavering At The Fence, I Followed His Gaze To A Little Puff Of White Fur, The Kind Of Dog Women Stick In Their Purses. It Wasn't Even Barking, Just Staring At Us, Dancing In Place. "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.

Common Courtesy Dictates That We Never Drain The Lifeblood Of Anyone To Whom We've Been Formally Introduced.