Before I tell you, I have to know three things," I said. "Okay." "One, are you sitting down?" "Yes." "Two, are you mentally stable?" "More than you'll ever be." Well, that was uncalled for. "And three, how do you spell schizophrenia?" "What does that have to do with anything?" "Nothing. I just wanted to see if you'd tell me.

My plans often went awry. Much like my thoughts. Hold the phones. Maybe Saan had ADD, too. It would explain a lot.

Chocolate and coffee ? Together ? Whoever came up with that combination should have won a Nobel Peace Prize. Or at least a subscription to Reader's Digest.

Oh, my god!” I said to Reyes, my eyes radiating accusations at him. “She took your picture? Just what kind of game are you playing? You’re under arrest, mister.” His mouth tilted and a dimple emerged on one cheek as I took his wrist and threw him against a wall. Or, well, urged him toward it. I held him against the cool wood with one hand and frisked him with the other.

Does your uncle need anything? A coffee? A latte?” “He needs someone to bear his illegitimate child if you’re interested

My powers of persuasion are only as strong as the bullshit I have to back it up. - Charley Davidson

The dead guy looked at me with wide eyes. “I can’t move my legs.” I snorted. “You can’t move your arms either, or your feet or your freaking eyelids. You’re dead.