Kate Ryan

I have no choice but to start all over again, tomorrow or not at all.

Surviving the Apocalypse didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy a little romance.

We all love our dogs. However, some of us take it a little too far, convincing ourselves that our dogs are actually our children. You call your dog your “baby” one day, and the next thing you know, you’re pushing him or her down the street in an expensive stroller. How did we get here? Trust me, it’s a slippery slope. Here are 12 signs you might have a dog-child.

One of my biggest fears is having a random stranger ask me, "how it’s going?" They might as well ask if I’d like to step into their van and get murdered.

12:48 AM. Why would someone schedule an exorcism for the middle of a weeknight?

He died a violent death. I saw him myself, flopping between wooden blades, his head bent back strangely.

She knows you’re not supposed to call it an “it,” but she honestly can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl or . . . undecided.

I would send some chocolates, but I’m not allowed anymore since they found the shiv in the birthday cake I sent you.

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

Fresh orange juice, milk, thick slices of ham, a block of cheese, a carton of eggs—her husband kept it this way should this moment arrive.