Darynda Jones Quotes

That you honestly believe I am capable of hurting innocent people for no reason.” “You’re not?” I asked, hope softening my voice. “Oh, no, I’m more than capable. I just didn’t realize you knew that.

Don't judge me because I'm quiet. No one plans a murder out loud.

Want coffee?" I asked, as I headed that way. "It's three thirty in the morning." "Okay. Want coffee?

If you must eat a banana in public, never make eye contact.

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.

I suck at all this supernatural stuff. But I fry a mean chicken. Oh, good. I hate it when the nice ones get fried.

A split second later, my life flashed before my eyes, and I came to one important conclusion about it. It was fun while it lasted.

She looked at me, confused. “He hardly knew me. My parents dated and got married before we knew what happened. Let’s just say we were not brought into the loop on that decision.” “That’s weird. I wasn’t brought into the loop with my parents’ marriage either.” “Really? How old were you?” “Twelve months.” She giggled. “I can’t imagine why they didn’t ask your opinion.

Least he's committed," I offered. "Or needs to be.

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.

I may as well cut my losses and make a hasty exit while I still had enough self-esteem to walk upright. Crawling was so demoralizing

Wait, what are you doing?” She could apparently hear the strain in my voice as I craned my neck from side to side. “I’m trying to see past a little girl on my hood." “Oh. Isn’t that dangerous?” “Normally. But she has a knife.” “Oh, well, then, I guess it’s okay.

Did you get checked out?” “Yeah, by a hot blond who sat in the corner of the bar and made googly eyes at me.” “I meant by a doctor.” “No, but a balding yet bizarrely hot paramedic said I’d be fine." “Oh, and he’s an expert?” “At flirting.

I'll call if I break a leg or get eaten by a bear." "Play like a rock." "Now?" "No, if a bear starts eating you." I thought for a moment before replying. "Do they have screaming, sobbing rocks, 'cause that's probably what I'll be doing if a bear is gnawing my arm off." "It would be difficult to just lay there and be eaten alive, huh?" "Ya think?

...and then she glared at me, the same glare my stepmother used to give me when I gave her the Nazi salute. That woman was so touchy about her resemblance to Hitler.

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.

We could make this work, you know." "I will knee you in the groin." "I could give you a night you will never forget." "Because you will be writhing in agony all night and I will laugh unmercifully. It will be unforgettable.

I'm sorry to have to tell you this way, but your mother and I are separating." When I pressed my mouth together, he corrected, "Stepmother. We're just - We're going in different directions." "I don't know what to say, Dad. 'Hurray' just seems wrong.

I'd have a longer attention span if there weren't so many shiny things.

Drink coffee! Do stupid things faster and with more energy!

He seemed determines, his resolve unwavering. This would take tact. Prudence. Possible Milk Duds.

Paperwork wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for all the paper. And the work.

This guy in high school tried to run me over with his dad’s SUV. Bad shoved the vehicle through a store window.” The memory brought a smile to my face.

She didn't smile back. Not even a little. I totally needed to read that book on how to win friends and influence people. But that would involve an innate desire to win friends and influence people.

For the first time in my life, I was in a shoot-out. A real, honest-to-goodness shoot-out with a bad guy. And, apparently, we both sucked.

In Cookie's defense, it was raining wildcats and rabid dogs.

She reached up and curled her fingers into mine. “He should take you to dinner.” To say that the mere thought horrified me would have been a grievous understatement. I threw up a little in my mouth then swallowed hard. I told Taft when I recovered, “Just please, for the love of God, find a girl good enough to take home to your mother. And do it soon.” “And stop dating skanks.

While I was busy reminiscing about my first day on earth, I had forgotten that I was falling to my death. Damned ADD.

Cookie had taken her daughter amber to school then walked the thirty-something feet to work earlier. Our business was on the second floor of Calamity's, my dad's bar, which sat right in front of our apartment building. The short commute was nice and rarely invloved rabid raccoons.

You know you have ADD when Look A chicken - T-shirt

Whatever makes your balloon red, Swopes.

I may not have any skeletons in my closet, but I do have a little box of souls in my sock drawer. —T-SHIRT

I had yet to be a mother, but I would have thought it difficult to forget something it took thirty-seven hours of excruciating pain to push out from between my legs ~Charley Davidson

I intend to live forever. So far, so good. - T-SHIRT

I know what kind of man it takes to get involved with something as barbarous as human trafficking.” “I get it, Swopes. He’s not the kind of man you take home to meet your stepmom.” I rethought that. “Wait a minute. Maybe my stepmom would like to meet him. Do you think he ships to Istanbul?

I love language, words, and all the lovely, exciting, and heart wrenching things you can do with them. Pick the right ones, put them in the right order, and you’ve created a moment in time where the reader forgets about the late car payment, the dirty dishes, the impending workweek. You have created a state of bliss. Or negligence, depending on your perspective.

Man, I want to be someone's forbidden fruit." "Well, you are pretty fruity.

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.

You do have a tendency to severe spinal cords." "Only for you.

I know karate, and like two other Japanese words - T-SHIRT

I was just passing by. Saw the commotion. Figured you were involved.

I pointed in the general vicinity of my left ovary, "This is Beam Me Up." Then to my right. "And this is Scotty." Garret chuckled and buried his face in his hands. He asked.

God I loved Sammy. I’d considered marrying him, but his wife got upset when I asked for his hand.

Have they even seen the Winchester boys? Sammy and Dean's existence proves there is a god and she is a woman.

You totally need to watch the news." "Can't." "Why?" "It's too depressing." "Right, because hanging with dead people isn't.

Friends don't let friends get killed by serial killers

He bombarded me with words, of all things, apparently clueless to the fact that the predawn hours rendered me incapable of coherent thought.

I'd never taken to four foot creatures who had the uncanny ability to point out all my flaws in thirty second flat. And just for the record, I can too read without moving my lips.