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Want coffee? I asked, as I headed that way. It's three thirty in the morning. Okay. Want coffee?

Darynda Jones

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Darynda Jones
Age: 59
Author
Novelist
Writer
Friona
Texas
Okay
Asked
Morning
Three
Way
Headed
Thirty
Coffee

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My real mom died when I was born—hemorrhaged to death while giving birth to me, which has never been one of my favorite memories—and Dad married Denise before I’d turned a year. Without even asking my opinion on the matter. Denise and I never really clicked.
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I climbed into Misery and called Uncle Bob. “We hooking up?” “Why does everything out of your mouth make me sound incestuous?” “Um, I wasn’t aware that it did. Perhaps you have a guilty conscience.” “Charley.” “Is there something you need to get off your chest? Besides that skank I saw you with the other day?
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The point is, stories can be all lengths. Never underestimate the power of “less is more.
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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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I chose the road less traveled. Now I'm lost.
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He seemed determines, his resolve unwavering. This would take tact. Prudence. Possible Milk Duds.
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Don't judge me because I'm quiet. No one plans a murder out loud.
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Man, that woman was quick when she wanted to be. But put her behind the wheel of a Buick.
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I lowered the gun but didn’t holster it. Not just yet. She could turn out to be psychotic. Or a door-to-door salesperson.
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It isn’t the fall that will kill you, but the sudden stop.
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Reyes leaned back against the bar, crossed his arms over his chest, and studied me from beneath those same ridiculously long lashes. Men and their freaking lashes. It was so unfair. Like the exorbitant cost of designer shoes. Or world hunger.
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His gaze slid over me like a veil of fire. He could ignite my deepest desires with a single glance. I decided right then and there no more reading romance novels by candelight.
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SOME GIRLS WEAR PRADA. SOME GIRLS WEAR GLOCK 17 SHORT RECOIL SPRING-LOADED SEMIAUTOMATIC PISTOLS WITH A LOADED CHAMBER INDICATOR AND A NONSLIP GRIP. - T-SHIRT
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I had yet to be a mother, but I would have thought it difficult to forget something it took thirty-seven hours of excruciating pain to push out from between my legs ~Charley Davidson
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He had given me so much information, I wanted some time to absorb it all, but I didn't want to leave him. Not like this. Not ever, as long as I lived. Or until I had to get back on the case. Whichever came first.
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This place is like crazy on crackers.
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