I’ve not made it any secret that my true muse has always been Death. Whether it is the McKean/Gaiman creation from the Sandman graphic novels, the skeletal waltz danse macabre, the cloaked guy with the scythe with a knight on a beach, the vampire at the window asking for permission to cross the threshold, or the Mórrígan, Death has been the audience I most write for and am most inspired by.

And I know one of the things that may raise eyebrows among some folks is that I typically personify Death in my head as a sensual female. All kinds of Freudian fodder in there, I suppose.