Second Grave on the Left (Charley Davidson, #2)

by Darynda Jones

IF IT HAS TIRES OR TESTICLES, IT’S GONNA GIVE YOU TROUBLE.

Skeptics were such drama queens.

The only things I liked to scale on a semi-regular basis were those same guys who made this stuff look easy.

Ha love it.

I STOPPED FIGHTING MY INNER DEMONS. WE’RE ON THE SAME SIDE NOW.

I sort of got off on making bad guys sweat. Which was not unlike my love of making good guys sweat, just by very different means.

“Wreck?” I balked, feigning offense. “I’m good. The sun is shining, the superglue is holding. What more could a girl ask for?” “World domination?” she offered. “Well, there is that.

Love this

I might should take my gun, just in case.

Might Should?

It was late, but really there was no reason for me to sit in a hospital when my computer was clearly in my apartment and I could just as easily sit there. And pass the time looking at pictures of Reyes on the Web.

Thought your not suppose to look at screens when you have a concussion?

YOU KNOW THOSE BAD THINGS THAT HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE? I’M THAT.

One was never too old to revel in the embrace of your dad.

“She said that if I was going to find Reyes, I had to listen for what only I could hear. I don’t know what that means.”

...his heartbeat.