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“Time-out,” I said... He twisted his hand around and wound his fingers into mine. “You‘re putting me in time-out?” “Yes,” I said as a shaky sigh slid through my lips. “If I don't go, do I get a spanking?”

Darynda Jones

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Darynda Jones
Age: 59
Author
Novelist
Writer
Friona
Texas
Hand
Wound
Hands
Sigh
Around
Wounds
Time
Putting
Lips
Shaky
Fingers
Spanking
Mines
Slid
Mine
Twisted

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I'm a virgin. But this is an old shirt. --T-SHIRT
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If life hands you lemons,keep them. Because, hey, free lemons.-T-Shirt
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SARC- was my second favorite -ASM word
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She shook her head then took off again, and I found myself struggling to keep up with her in my bunny slippers. With a sigh, I realized I was getting way too much exercise. I'd just have to counteract it later with cake.
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When fighting clowns, always go for the juggler.
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My powers of persuasion are only as strong as the bullshit I have to back it up. - Charley Davidson
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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.
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The point is, stories can be all lengths. Never underestimate the power of “less is more.
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Just in case, though, I stormed into my apartment, tossed a quick hello to Mr. Wong, then rummaged through my entertainment center to lay out all my exorcism equipment. I kept it in my entertainment center because exorcisms were nothing if not entertaining.
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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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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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He was like chocolate-covered heroin, and I was an addict through and through.
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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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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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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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Friends don't let friends get killed by serial killers
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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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Who knew that all this time the nectar of the Gods was in my va-jay-jay.
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You take everything onto your shoulders like that guy who holds up the world, and you shouldn’t. You’re not nearly as muscular.
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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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