charley-davidson

The regular I both feared and salivated to see was names Reyes Farrow. Where others exuded aggression, deception, and insecurity, he literally dripped confidence, sex, and power. Mostly sex.

There's another part, an obstinate part, that wants more. That wants Dutch live and in the flesh. That wants her hand. Her mouth. Her hips under mine. It wants all of her. Every last ounce. Body and soul.

If he didn't hate me so much and he wasn't an evil supernatural being, I'd be on him like black on Cookie's toast.That woman could not make toast.

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

Does Uncle Bob have anything?""I heard he has an STD.""I mean on the women.""Oh, I have no idea if they have any STDs.

Since I didn't have a candy wrapper to help me with the bad connection I was about to have, I resorted to using vocal sound effects. When Agent Carson picked up, I started my performance. "Agent... Agent Carson," I said, panting into the phone."Yes, Charley." She seemed unimpressed, but I wasn't about to stop now."I--I know who the kshshshshshsh are.""I'm a little busy right now, Davidson. What is a Ksh, and why do I care?""I'm sorry. My kshshsh... is kshshsh... ing."I repeat. What is a Ksh? And why do I care if it is ksh-ing?"She was a tough one. I knew I should have waited and bought a Butterfinger at the Jug-N-Chug. Those wrappers crakled like Rice Krispies on a Saturday morning. "You aren't listeni--kshshsh.""You're really bad at this.""Bank ro-ksh-ers. I know who they kshshsh.""Charley, if you don't cut this crap out."I hung up and turned off my phone before she could figure out what I was trying not to tell her and call back.

Did you catch the time-of-great-suffering thing?__er expression softened. __an you just make sure I__ not around when it happens?___o can do,_ I said, strolling back to my office with a negating wave of my hand. __f I have to suffer, then so does everyone else within a ten-mile radius.__he pursed her lips. __hat ever happened to taking one for the team?___as never much of a team player.___acrificing yourself for the greater good?___ot that into human sacrifice.___uffering in silence?__ stopped and turned back to her, my eyes narrowing accusingly. __f I have to suffer, I__l be screaming your name at the top of my lungs the whole time. You__l be able to hear me all the way to Jersey, mark my words._- Charley to Cookie

Gemma Davidson,_ she answered, her voice as groggy as I felt. __here are you?_ I asked. __ho is this?_ __lvis._ __hat time is it?_ __ammer time?_ __harley._ __id you text me? Did your car break down?_ __o and no. Why are you doing this to me?_ She was funny. __heck your cell._ I heard a loud, sleepy sigh, some rustling of sheets, then, __t won__ come on._ __ot at all?_ __o. What did you do to it?_ __ ate it for breakfast. Check the battery compartment._ __here the hell is that?_ __m, behind the battery door._ __re you punking me?_ I heard her fumbling with the phone. __em, if I was going to punk you, I wouldn't simply turn off your phone. I would pour honey in your hair while you slept. Or, you know, something like that._ __hat was you?_ she asked, appalled.

Have you slept yet?''Sure. I took a power nap on the way over.''Didn't you drive there?''Yeah. Other drviers kept waking me up. Car horns should be illegal.'- Charley & Cookie

As we sat there, the door opened, just barely, and a hand slid inside and dropped a set of keys on a side table."Thanks, Garrett!" I called out.He gave me a thumbs-up and closed the door."How do you suppose he knew we were performing sexual favors on each other?" I asked, snuggling against my man again."Possibly because you screamed my name about seven times.

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.

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

I could__e knocked the shit out of her .She__ have good reason to roll her eyes then. But knocking the shit out of rude people wasn__ my style. Heckling them every chance I got was. Hopefully she__ screw up soon. I didn__ have all day.

You know?_ he asked.__es. I know what I am.___ou _ you do?_____ a time traveler.

Writing is transcendental. It is a form of expression, a form of art that you can take anywhere. That you can do anywhere. It poses the deepest questions in the universe. It generates emotion. It elicits empathy, promotes learning, creates an intellect you simply cannot get from any other medium. For me, it is air.

The point is, stories can be all lengths. Never underestimate the power of __ess is more.

You still owe me a million dollars." I'd presented him with a bill for proving his innocence and getting him freed from prison. He had yet to pay. Couldn't imagine why."Yeah, I was hoping we could work that out.""The interest alone is going to kill you.""What do you charge?""Three hundred eighty-seven percent.""Is that ethical?""It's as ethical as my dating the son of Satan.

I essentially killed those men. Am I slated for hell?"He stepped to me. Put his fingers underneath my chin. Raised it until our gazes locked. "You're a god, Dutch. And the reaper. You don't get slated. You are the slate.