Kate Ryan

LAX, on the other hand, seemed like a perfect place to pick up the latest deadly virus.

Sheila applied widely and on a whim. She needed a job and she needed one fast.

Alma couldn’t understand why her Yelp reviews were so dismal. She didn’t advertise herself as a magician. She was a hair stylist.

For the record, I didn’t mean to be born so tall. I didn’t ask for bulky shoulders or a head that doesn’t fit most hats.

Alison learned from her grandmother how a plastic smile could take you places—especially in a place like Hollywood.

Someone would always cook in their tighty whities, his package at eye level for the person doing French homework at the kitchen table.

Writing simply does for me what long walks do for small dogs; it makes me tired and happy.

You could take this easy, informative quiz to find out with whom you side on important legislative issues and social policies. Or you could go my route and pick your candidate based on what dinosaur they resemble.

She gropes for attention while he dies in the other room.

“You are the naked girl on horse, yes?” he said, approaching her table from across the café patio.