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Still, this whole grim reaper thing should have come with a manual. Or a diagram of some kind. A flowchart would have been nice.

Darynda Jones

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Darynda Jones
Age: 59
Author
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Friona
Texas
Would
Grim
Nice
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Still
Diagram
Come
Diagrams
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Reaper
Thing
Manual
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Manuals

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But, you're his son, I said, trying really hard to hate him. You're the son of Satan. Literally. And you are the stepdaughter of Denise Davidson. Wow. That was a bit harsh, but, Okay, point taken.
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Before I tell you, I have to know three things, I said. Okay. One, are you sitting down? Yes. Two, are you mentally stable? More than you'll ever be. Well, that was uncalled for. And three, how do you spell schizophrenia? What does that have to do with anything? Nothing. I just wanted to see if you'd tell me.
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I was just passing by. Saw the commotion. Figured you were involved.
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He had threatened my parents. I had to remember that. Still, it was really hard to stay mad at a wounded naked man.
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Chocolate and coffee ? Together ? Whoever came up with that combination should have won a Nobel Peace Prize. Or at least a subscription to Reader's Digest.
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Okay, I’ll put someone on it. But you know, the Albuquerque Police Department wasn’t really created to find things out for you.” “Really? That’s weird.
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God I loved Sammy. I’d considered marrying him, but his wife got upset when I asked for his hand.
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Do not disturb. Already there.
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She blinked at me, then realized I was panicking. Honestly, it was like admitting to murder before being interrogated. “Ms. Davidson,” she began, but I decided to trip her up, to throw her off the trail of blood I’d left like an injured animal. “I don’t speak English.
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Friends don't let friends get killed by serial killers
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I often question my sanity. Occasionally, it replies.
Darynda Jones
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Don't judge me because I'm quiet. No one plans a murder out loud.
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Paperwork wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for all the paper. And the work.
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He bombarded me with words, of all things, apparently clueless to the fact that the predawn hours rendered me incapable of coherent thought.
Darynda Jones
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Rocket, I said, straightening in the chair. Donovan was just helping me with my contacts. Donovan raised his brows humorously. Rocket furrowed his. Did you swallow them?
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Who knew that all this time the nectar of the Gods was in my va-jay-jay.
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Charley: If you‘re not going to tell me where you are, if you‘re not going to trust me to help you, then why are you here? Why bother? Reyes: Because you‘re the reason I breathe.
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Have you slept yet?' 'Sure. I took a power nap on the way over.' 'Didn't you drive there?' 'Yeah. Other drviers kept waking me up. Car horns should be illegal.' - Charley & Cookie
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I’m Charlotte Davidson: private investigator, police consultant, all -around badass. Or I could’ve been a badass, had I stuck with those lessons in mixed martial arts. I was only in that class to learn how to kill people with paper.
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Does Uncle Bob have anything? I heard he has an STD. I mean on the women. Oh, I have no idea if they have any STDs.
Darynda Jones