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He seemed determines, his resolve unwavering. This would take tact. Prudence. Possible Milk Duds.

Darynda Jones

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Darynda Jones
Age: 59
Author
Novelist
Writer
Friona
Texas
Resolve
Determine
Seemed
Duds
Possible
Unwavering
Take
Tact
Would
Determines
Prudence
Milk

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If I was going to go out tonight, I was going to go out fighting. Or screaming in agony. Either way.
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There was nothing like a trip to the gynecologist to make one feel just a little violated. Charley
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Maybe I needed sensitivity training. I once signed up for an anger management class, but the instructor pissed me off.
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He’d actually hit me! It didn’t matter that hitting me wasn’t really like hitting a regular girl and I’d be completely healed in a matter of hours. I was still a freaking girl, and he damned well knew it. I’d just have to hit him back. With a lead pipe. Or an eighteen-wheeler.
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I may not have any skeletons in my closet, but I do have a little box of souls in my sock drawer. —T-SHIRT
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I knew dating the son of Satan would turn out badly
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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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This place is like crazy on crackers.
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You can’t have him, okay,” she said from behind the wire barrier. “Mm-hmm,” I whispered. “This is certainly a beautiful neighborhood.” “Yeah, I guess.” “I will scratch those eyes out of your ugly head.
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Then I asked her if she wanted to to the funeral, and my God, the look on her face. You'd think I'd asked her to drown the neighbor's cat. Admittedly, drowning the neighbor's cat didn't really clue me in as much as I would've liked. So, she was angry? He blinked back to me and stared. Like a long time.
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It isn’t the fall that will kill you, but the sudden stop.
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She still wasn't convinced. So, if you were a guy, would you be into me? Hon, if I were a guy, I'd be gay. Yeah, me, too.
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Reyes Farrow. Because perfection is a dirty job, but someone has to do it.
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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.
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The point is, stories can be all lengths. Never underestimate the power of “less is more.
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How would you like your eggs? I tried. I really did. But I glanced at his crotch and it came out anyway. Fertilized?
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Apparently, this really was Kill Charley Davidson Week. Or at least Horribly Maim Her.... It would probably never get government recognition, though, destined to be underappreciated like Halloween or Thesaurus Day.
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But we'd never really seen eye to eye. Mostly 'cause he was much taller than I was.
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I know how you feel. I’ve been analyzed to death as well. Not, like, professionally, though I did date a psych major who said I had attention issues. Or at least that’s what I think he said. I wasn’t really paying attention. Anyway, where was I?
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I shifted in my chair as Dad waited for a response. He seemed determined, his resolve unwavering. This would take tact. Prudence. Possibly Milk Duds. “Are you psychotic?” I asked, realizing my plan to charm and bribe him if need be flew out the window the minute I opened my mouth.
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