Quotes by R.D. Ronald

To whomever swapped my tattoo cream for toothpaste........ well played.

Today I plan to smile a lot, only so people who know me will be freaked the fuck out.

Im the biggest critic of my own work, but sometimes you nail a chapter so good that you have to take a step back and admire that bitch.

The best writers tend to look the roughest in photos. At least thats the excuse I use for why I look so bad in mine.

Blood began to flow, at first cautiously, as if embarrassed by its appearance; a few thin red lines exploring the gravitational trajectory of its new terrain. Now it flowed faster, steadily staining her pale flesh a horrific red.

Anyone who says Trust me is the last motherfucker you should ever trust.

The city centre was still crawling with Christmas shoppers looking to add to their already burgeoning piles of gifts. To Scott they were like ants at a picnic, teeming from store to store, trailing oversized carrier bags and infants behind them as they went. Scott felt alien in this environment; pulling up his hood he hurried through the crowds, dodging pushchairs, lit cigarettes and charity collection tins.

He had done nothing on Christmas day, just wandered around outside in the frozen woods. Hard ground, chill winds and bare branches that looked like theyd been dipped in sugar. None of it seemed real, like walking around in a desolate dream, but one he didnt want to wake up from.

Scott could feel the contents of his stomach flip over and over on themselves. He turned to the side and retched, frothy yellow bile spilled out onto the newspaper covered floor, filling the room with the putrid stench of previously ingested alcohol.Looks like someone cant hold their drink, McBlane said, and Dominic and Shugg laughed.Scott was still staring at the steam rising from his evacuated stomach contents as he heard the hammer fall. The dull crack of bone splintering under its weight.

Solitude led to retrospective thinking, and if the past is what you are trying to get away from, then constant distractions in the present are needed.

Around the outside of the room other beautiful women wearing little or nothing at all flitted between the infatuated, intoxicated men, sometimes luring them away for a private dance. The men would follow obediently, weighed down by lust and credit cards.

He dropped the phone back onto its cradle, began to turn around and felt a sudden ice-cold furrow open up in his side. Strength drained from his legs, and a moment later he sank to his knees. There was warmth now that ran over the initial and persistent cold.Mohammed was confused, and barely noticed the briefcase being removed from his grip. He heard the click of a cell phone opening, and a soft beeping as a number was dialed.The package is in my possession, a female voice said, and the phone clicked shut.

This faulty light fitting at the front door with the dangerously flickering bulb looks rather festive. Who says I dont do Christmas?

Just been poisoned by my gran. Nothing says Christmas better than familicide and anaphylactic shock.

We were left with nothing because of a love like acid that ate its way through our entire family.

The guard looked down at the scarlet bloodstains blooming on his chest. He appeared to think of something that he needed to say, but as his lips began to form the words, his knees gave up the strain of supporting his ruined bulk. He collapsed to the floor, his throat issuing a final sound like a bubbling casserole.

Remove the comma, replace the comma, remove the comma, replace the comma...

Thats why Twinkle likes the place so much, Scott thought, looking around at the faded wood veneer tables, and the faded souls drinking at them. Misery was soaked through the place like the old beer soaked through its carpets.

Deciding to wait, Scott sat down with a pint away from the bar at a corner table and lit a cigarette. The clientele in there on Sunday afternoon were the same as most other afternoons. From middle-aged to old men, drinking and cursing at the world like it was the last bus which had just left the stop without them.

Sometimes truths are what we run from, and sometimes they are what we seek.