She blinked at me, then realized I was panicking. Honestly, it was like admitting to murder before being interrogated. “Ms. Davidson,” she began, but I decided to trip her up, to throw her off the trail of blood I’d left like an injured animal. “I don’t speak English.
Darynda JonesI lowered the gun but didn’t holster it. Not just yet. She could turn out to be psychotic. Or a door-to-door salesperson.
Darynda JonesI suck at all this supernatural stuff. But I fry a mean chicken. Oh, good. I hate it when the nice ones get fried.
Darynda JonesI have three words for you," EMT Guy said. "Possible internal bleeding." I turned back to him. "Don't you think if I was bleeding internally, I'd know somewhere deep inside? Like, internally?
Darynda Jones