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... he trotted down the hallway on all fours and started in on his second favorite pastime, conversations with plumbing. Just what I needed: Stone, the Toilet Whisperer.

Devon Monk

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Devon Monk
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: January 9
Novelist
Writer
Eugene
Oregon
Started
Toilets
Trotted
Conversations
Whisperer
Stone
Fours
Favorite
Hallway
Stones
Plumbing
Conversation
Hallways
Second
Pastime
Needed
Toilet

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Since I didn't have a spork handy, I leaned over the sink and scooped up a palmful of cold water and pressed it against my face. There had to be a better option than a violent sporking. There had to be a way to get rid of my dad.
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But it is clear to me that our survival—both yours and mine—will be dictated by how well you and I can work together.” “So we’re screwed?
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I think you’re possessed.” “Old news.” “Huh. Anyone I know?” “My dad. It’s a family issue I’m working on.
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The Mum has the temper of a demon with a diaper rash. (Shamus)
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Hey, rock dude, are you destroying the house? Causing mayhem? Who’s a ferocious gargoyle? Stoney’s a ferocious gargoyle.
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And it's just a hunt? Bea asked. Just tracking the guy down, or are we going to have to do a little covering up of our own? Had she just told me she was willing to kill someone and cover it up? She gave me a happy smile, but that glint in her eyes told me that, yes, she'd just offered to off someone.
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…I noticed you don’t have any self-defense training…” “…I can handle myself just fine.” She stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. Finally, “In the very short time I’ve known you, you have been chased, shot, robbed, stabbed, drugged, and attacked by magic.” “I’m still breathing, aren’t I?
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Night Owls is a fast, fun read that kept me turning the pages. Lauren M. Roy delivers a plot that zips, dialogue that zings, and a cast of characters you'll cheer for to the very end. Thumbs up!
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Then they both smiled the exact same smile. Narcissism times two. Oh, get a room already.
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I resisted the urge to pour mouthwash in my brain.
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He was like an undead boomerang. A zomberang.
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I don’t know what’s happened to you. You used to be such a nice girl. Now you’ve gone all stabby and whatnot.
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I don’t know how to explain it.” “Try words. If that doesn’t work, we’ll move on to interpretive dance.
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A corner of his mouth quirked up. “I play pool. Shoot hoops sometimes too. Any other sport you’re curious about?” “Hockey? Polo?” “Simultaneously. Trick is to keep the horses on their skates.
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The price for using dark magic is death, so that goes a long way toward deterring users.
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Trace of Magic caught me up fast and pulled me in tight for a fun, action-and-sass adventure full of deadly magic and dangerous romance. Diana Pharaoh Francis delivers a downright terrific read.
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