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326 pages, Hardcover
First published May 20, 2014
“Sweet,” I said, astounded at my acting skills. I should’ve gone to Hollywood when I had the chance, but when that old man offered to take me that one time at an abandoned gas station in the middle of nowhere, I wasn’t sure I could trust him. Mostly because he had rope, duct tape, and lots of condoms in his backseat. Still, I’ll never know what could have come of it. How far I could have risen.There are two types of people in the world. Those who hate Charley Davidson, and those who will love her no matter what.
The poor guy needed to be done with whatever it was he’d left unfinished. I couldn’t have him running around naked forever. It just seemed wrong.- Got a dead Chinese man in her bedroom, and although that wouldn't ordinarily be a problem (I dated a few Chinese guys myself), this one is dead, he's been in her room for as long as she's been there, and now...there's just something off about him.
“I’m having a hard time not looking at your penis.”
“I tend to forget how beautifully your plans work when each and every one goes awry, including the one that left you stranded on a deserted bridge with a man who had every intention of burning you alive.”Ok, so Charley kind of has a bit of a hero complex. And I mean "a bit" in the sense that running headfirst into a metal pole is "a bit" painful. She's snarky, she's irreverant, sure. She's also got this overwhelming sense of stupidity that makes her want to rescue every stray soul out there in need of help. Whether it's matchmaking her best friend/receptionist to her uncle, or saving an errant soul from eternal nudity, to playing card games with a demon...she'll do anything necessary.
My heart broke all too often. Even when people passed through me who’d gotten past their hardships, their heart-wrenching pain, and had lived long, full lives, seeing that part of them still cut me to pieces. So, maybe all this time I’d been hanging with Mr. Wong, I was really putting off the inevitable, the truth, not for his benefit, but for my own.Charley is often too sympathetic (and often empathetic) for her own good.
I dialed her number. Got her voice mail. Waited for the beep. Then I did my best creepy kidnapper voice. “This is a ransom demand,” I said, my voice raspy. Kidnapper-y. “Deliver one hundred boxes of Cheez-Its to the unmarked—ignore the license plate—cherry red Jeep Wrangler sitting in your parking lot by noon today, or you will suffer the consequences.” I paused to cough. Raspy was hard on the esophagus. “They will be dire.”The Romance:
“I’m not stupid,” I said, growing tired of his questioning everything I did. “I do use common sense.”I don't like asshole alpha males, and one could argue that the Son of the Devil, Reyes Farrow, is an asshole alpha male, but in this book, he is entirely tamed. He wears an apron, he works as a waiter, he adores Charley despite her obvious idiocy. This wolf is now a puppy. A really hot puppy, but a puppy, nevertheless, and it's often frustrating to me that Charley leaves him hanging...
“You have to have common sense to use it.”
I stiffened. He did not just say that. “You did not just say that.”
“When it comes to humans, Dutch, you are blind. You do things for them that no other person alive would do.
“When are you going to answer him?” Cookie asked, drawing my attention.I can't even blame little 12-year old Amber for her crush.
“When he deserves an answer,” I volleyed.
A hopeless sigh slid through Cookie’s lips as she finally looked at him. “You’ve set the bar too high now. No one will live up to—” She gestured to all of him. “—all of that. You’ve ruined my daughter.”
“He looks like, I don’t know.” She dared a quick look over my shoulder. “Have you ever seen the sky at night when the stars weren’t out but it was crystal clear, the sky such a deep dark black that you were sure you could drown in it, it was so beautiful.”
I nodded knowingly. “Yes I have.”
“He’s that.” She slammed her eyes shut as thought picturing him in her mind, afraid to look again. “He’s the deep, dark kind of beauty that you’d sell your soul to have.”
“Now, now,” Garrett said, wrestling the gun from him. “Charley brings out the worst in all of us. It’s not her fault.”
“He’s right,” I said. “I have a condition.”
“What if I only bargained for the souls of bad people? You know, murderers and child molesters and people who cut in line at the theater snack counter.”
There was a thought I could live with. Well, not the snack-counter thing, but…. “You could be like the demonic version of Dexter.”
“He would rip out his spine if I let him.”
She patted my knee. “I would expect nothing less from the son of evil incarnate. He’s a good guy.”
“He would rip out his spine if I let him.”
She patted my knee. “I would expect nothing less from the son of evil incarnate. He’s a good guy.”