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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
Way
Headed
Thirty
Coffee
Okay
Asked
Morning
Three

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Hey, I'm going to Super Dog for a quick bite and to pass along a message from a dead guy to his girlfriend. You should come with me. I can't go with you. Is it because of my questionable morals? No, it's because it's three o'clock in the afternoon and I have to pick up Amber from school. Oh, right. So the morals thing doesn't bothe
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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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We stood there, the three of us, our jaws firmly planted on the floor. Aunt Lil recovered first. She nudged me with her elbow and said with a cackle of delight, I think you guys should make some more of those brownies, 'cause that boy looks hungry.
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Honestly, he acted as though he didn't like me anymore. Wait, maybe he didn't. Do you still like me? I never liked you. Oh, right. He had a point. Garreth & Charley
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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.
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Surely my macking on some guy in an insane asylum wouldn't hurt him. He'd been living with his stalker, for heaven's sake.
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Pretending to drink coffee was similar to faking an orgasm.
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I sort of got off on making bad guys sweat. Which was not unlike my love of making good guys sweat, just by very different means.
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Okay, I'll strip. I'll tap dance. I'll sing 'La Cucaracha' in C minor.
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Death comes to those who wait. And to those who don't. So either way.
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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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There is nothing to fear but fear itself. And spiders. ~Bumper sticker~
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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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When life hands you lemons say, Lemons? What else have you got? - bumper sticker
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Friends don't let friends get killed by serial killers
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Cookie had taken her daughter amber to school then walked the thirty-something feet to work earlier. Our business was on the second floor of Calamity's, my dad's bar, which sat right in front of our apartment building. The short commute was nice and rarely invloved rabid raccoons.
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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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God I loved Sammy. I’d considered marrying him, but his wife got upset when I asked for his hand.
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