“The full moon cast an eerie glow through thick ancient dark woods. In the shadows around a tree, the serial killer ran his knife lovingly over Chelsea’s trussed dead body. She lay, as if posed for a photo, wearing only bloody pink underpants.”

“We also told her you weren't a serial killer," Brit interjected.Cam nodded. "That's a glowing recommendation. Hey, at least he's not a serial killer. I'm going to put that on my Facebook profile.”

“Nila lay there with the moonlight cascading through her open window casting ominous shadows about the room. The tendrils of those shadows reached out from the dark and tugged at her aching heart.”

“Just because a guy wears glasses and smiles at you doesn't mean he's nice." Lisa dug around in her purse for a tube of lip-gloss. "Maybe he's a visually impaired cannibal. Did you ever think of that? Like one of those serial killers you love so much.""I don't love serial killers," Katie argued, defensive. "Not romantically, at least.”

“When you enter a grove peopled with ancient trees, higher than the ordinary, and shutting out the sky with their thickly inter-twined branches, do not the stately shadows of the wood, the stillness of the place, and the awful gloom of this doomed cavern then strike you with the presence of a deity?”

“The moon slid inexorably into its zenith, the shadows shrivelling to the feet of all that cast them, and as Rantel approached the hollow at the hem of the Twisted Woods he was treading in a pool of his own midnight.”