MELISSA DE LA CRUZ

As an author you hope your characters have sparks but truly in the end they have minds of their own!

Once you start telling people you're famous, they believe you.

Dark books do appeal to kids because they have nice, sheltered lives - and they also appeal to children who are going through pretty hard times themselves.

Being an adult comes with a whole new set of issues.

I haven't paid for anything since I became famous.

Just because I worked in fashion doesn't mean I didn't go to see 'Underworld' three times!

I don't write that much horror. People tell me my books are scary, but they're not really; I don't go there.

I always thought of vampires, especially the young-adult ones, as a metaphor for sex - sucking blood, forbidden, taboo. I think they just ooze sex. Vampires are all the big themes in life in one attractive, bloodsucking package.

I was always a sci-fi and fantasy geek. I was in the 'Lord of the Rings' club and all my cool friends made fun of me.

I used to write my books at night when I was a freelancer with no children. I used to really work in huge spurts - I could turn around a revision in two weeks, I used to be able to write 10,000 words a day. It's like, 'Wow, what happened to that?' That's just gone.

We all want to live forever, but we don't want to suck blood to do it, right? I think people like to have these deep moral questions that don't come up in real life.

He was like a shooting star you tried to catch with your hands. She would only get burned.

Never trust a shiny surface. They hide a multitude of flaws.

Jack Force was more than she had ever dared wish for, and he was better than a dream or a fantasy because he was real. He was far from perfect, moody and distant at times, and burdened with sharp temper and an impulsiveness that was part of his dark nature. But she felt more love for him than she thought possible. He wasn't perfect, but he was perfect for her. (Schuyler Van Alen)

Because love was not the answer to every question. Because real love meant sacrifice. Sometimes love means letting go.

When she reached the shallow end, Kingsley held out his hand and pulled her up, but she lost her step and fell into his arms, her body crushing momentarily against his.

Kingsley did the same, except he also removed his T-shirt, showing off his broad chest, tan and smooth. When had Kingsley had time to work on his tan? Mimi wondered.

Thank you for loving me enough to let me go.

If she loved him the way she said she did, she wanted him whole. Maybe this was what love meant after all: sacrifice and selflessness. It did not mean hearts and flowers and a happy ending, but the knowledge that another's well-being is more important than one's own.

She can't let him go not telling him what she was about to do. Kingsley...I can't do this. I'm coming with you.

White for light. White for love. White for forever.

HE was standing across the street, staring at her with a look of shock and dismay. One look in Oliver's eyes and she knew he knew. But how? How could he have known? The'd been so careful to keep their love a secret. The grief etched all over his face was too much to bear. Schuyler felt the words catch in her throat as she crossed the stree to stand in front of him. "Ollie...it's not..." Oliver shot her a look of pure hatred, turned on his heel and began to run away. "OLIVER, please,let me explain.

Do not cry for me, Azrael. Do not waste your tears. You made your decision. And this is mine. Sacrifice seems to be my destiny. A funny thing for a selfish man, isn't it? They always called me weak back then.

It didn't help that she was painfully shy and kept to herself, because then they just thought she was stuck-up, which she wasn't. She was just quiet.

You're late," she said, tapping her watch. "No, you're just early.