Carla H. Krueger

“Please, never tell me what 'horror erotica' is. Real #art is being lost in a bizarre swamp of over-processed, sexually exploitative garbage.”

“The fear of silence is a fear everyone should overcome.”

“You’re my prey tonight.”

“First time I ever put pen to paper, I had one goal – to build something no one had ever thought of before.”

“He remembers how someone – he forgets who – once said in a sarcastic tone, “Isn’t she just Little Miss Sweetness and Light?” – and it was a statement that put him off proposing. It made him seriously reassess his options. He didn’t want to be with someone others saw as overly-moral because he has flaws, he has weaknesses. How would his mistakes compare to her virtuousness? She used to dislike the competitiveness at work, the way she claimed she could never really make friends with anyone because everything was always so fake and cut-throat and he used to berate her for it, used to tell her to accept it, to realise the truth about life and relationships – but she wouldn’t take it. She was always thinking too hard about everything, always questioning her motives. Surely, if he’d married her, she’d have started questioning his.”

“One day, I decided I was going to write books forever.”

“Writing is a solitary existence, especially if you forget to chat to your friends – sorry, I meant characters.”

“I always feel anxious if anyone’s close to uncovering my secrets.”

“Bea stared at the pencils as if they were enemies.”

“Dawn cackles as she guides me through the all-glass porch. Thinner, paler Reina shuffles about behind Dawn, watching as I slip my boots off. Although she tries to hide her hands, her fingers flicker nervously. I place my boots neatly on the floor of the porch beside the other pairs in the shadows under the coats. Music drifts through to us from a distant room – it’s the Beach Boys’ California Dreamin’. Dawn looks at me and I smile – they’ve put the record on for me. Dawn nods along happily. ‘Hear you’re a surfer boy!’ she says and she mimics riding a wave.”

“Shush – it’s silent time again.”

“A silence absorbed them both – a lack of sound so potent it blackened the place with something richer than hate.”

“Nearly two years of dates. Still no question. Her mother and father want to set a proper date. Still no question. Her friends keep asking, when, Natasha? When? But she still hasn’t been asked The Question. It’s enjoyable to be the one with all the secrets, but in her honest mind – the hidden part that’s always sleeping – the secrets he keeps about when and if give her a feeling inside she’s never really understood completely – a sensation she had as a child when she got to the end of a fairytale where never-ending love and happiness were all but expected and wondered whether there might be…. one last page.”

“Reality was dawning on him and he hated reality. If you were him, so would you.”

“For no real reason – well, perhaps because of the seriousness under the trees or Nader’s hair, which was very messy and covered in little grass seeds – Katie began to giggle. She knew it was wrong, yet it was also natural. She covered her mouth with both hands, but Nader was already pale with revulsion. He turned and marched away into unwanted sunlight, leaving her to wonder why bad things happened and why no good person prevented them.”

“He had become the sky around the sun – alive, but not really there.”

“Blank walls are a shared canvas and we're all artists.”

“Writing is just building a new world – one character, one place, one maniac at a time.”

“Youngsters deserve no opinions.”

“One man’s fight is another man’s freedom.”