Via Derryl Murphy:

If you happen to be working on some creative writing project, fanfiction or NaNoWriMo or what have you, post exactly one sentence from each of your current work(s) in progress in your journal. It should probably be your favourite or most intriguing sentence so far, but what you choose is entirely your discretion. Mention the title (and genre) if you like, but don't mention anything else. This is merely to whet the general appetite for your forthcoming work(s).

The Accidental Terrorist [memoir]
I could imagine the flesh parting like paper under my thumbtip, the slow sting and shock as bright blood cascaded from that lipless grin to stain my white clothes crimson.

"Any World Where They Welcome Me" [science fiction]
I work hard to keep my emotions in check when I'm not on a hunt, because hardwired reflexes like mine mean someone can sneeze in my general direction and be dead before the last germ leaves his mouth.

"The Conscience of the King" [fantasy]
And on stage, the danse macabre went on, bodies continuing to cavort blindly even as Philip slashed at them mercilessly, even as their blood pumped out onto the stage, even as the music continued and they never stopped smiling.

"Immaculate" [horror]
So we went down to the beach, just like every summer night, Charlotte and me, where the sand still clung to the warmth of the day and the bonfires burned like a ragged string of Christmas lights and we could sit or run or shout or sing or just talk about anything we wanted until dawn.

"Inclination" [science fiction]
There is something wrong with me, and I don't know what it is.

"The Instructional Fate of Esias Flint" [crime]
He wandered the throngs of midtown like a ghost when he was done, wary of going near his office and reluctant to trust his life to the police, but unsure of where in the city to spend what might possibly be his last hours.

"Not of This Fold" [science fiction]
It didn't help matters when he passed a security guard on a silent one-man scooter who said "Talk to any aliens today, Ace?" before writing him up for a lockdown violation.

Silvertide [science fiction]
As Carl watched, the sparkles coalesced and ran together in a shimmering line, as if a second dawn were about to break.

"Spirit Photographer" (with Derryl Murphy) [horror]
He never would have thought to call it beautiful, but now with the clouds so low and frothy and the headstones shiny-gray as pearls in the rain, the grass bursting with green and the whitewashed church half-lost in the mist, he allowed as how it was a real sight.

"Timesink" [science fiction]
Taxis cruise like yellow-orange sharks amid the traffic, darting through the gaps left by slower vehicles.