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Pretending to drink coffee was similar to faking an orgasm.

Darynda Jones

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Darynda Jones
Age: 59
Author
Novelist
Writer
Friona
Texas
Drink
Orgasm
Faking
Pretending
Similar
Coffee

More quotes by Darynda Jones

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You were the one who hit me on the roof? I hit you on the jaw. We just happened to be on a roof at the time.
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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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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 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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An integral part of any best friend's job is to immediately clear your computer history if you die.
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The police never find it as funny as you do.-T-Shirt
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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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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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The funny thing about GPS was it didn’t always send you in the right direction. I knew that if I took a right and took Twelfth instead, I’d get there faster, so I turned right. Ozzy did not approve. “Wut the foock?
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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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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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Do not disturb. Already there.
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Want coffee? I asked, as I headed that way. It's three thirty in the morning. Okay. Want coffee?
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I chose the road less traveled. Now I'm lost.
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Ask me about my complete lack of interest. (T-shirt)
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What's your specialty? Oh, you know. Madness. Mayhem. Debauchery. And even with all that going for me, I can still make a mean mojito.
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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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God I loved Sammy. I’d considered marrying him, but his wife got upset when I asked for his hand.
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It isn’t the fall that will kill you, but the sudden stop.
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I could hardly be responsible for my actions when everyone around me gave me every opportunity to sink to their low expectations.
Darynda Jones