I see you, Ben. I always have. You're in my pack." He pulled away. "What if being packmates isn't enough for me?
I originally worked as an archaeologist in North Carolina, and when bones were found police would take them out to the bones lady at the university, and that was me.
Whitney smacked Coop's snout while simultaneously pressing herself deeper into the couch. Coop fixed her with an unblinking ice-blue stare, gray-brown fur bristling along his spine. "Tory!" Whitney squealed. "He's going to attack!" "Maybe." I walked into the kitchen and snagged a Diet Coke from the fridge. "Try to protect your throat.
Chance wore a white tuxedo with tails. On anyone else? Doopy. On him? Yes, please.
Today he wore a burnt-orange shirt, black pants, and a tie that looked like a street fight at the south end of the color wheel.
Who's going to rob us? A crackhead crab? A jellyfish junkie?
I tend to watch a lot of movies at home. It's nice to be close to the refrigerator with my pyjamas on and just relax.
I've been accused of being a minimalist writer. I don't like a lot of verbiage in there.
One of the surprising things I hadn't expected when I decided to write crime fiction is how much you are expected to be out in front of the public. Some writers aren't comfortable with that. I don't have a problem with that.
I do interviews and signings and readings and all of these people just hang off my every word. And then I go home and have dinner with my family and nobody lets me get a word in.
I'm not writing great literature. I'm writing commercial fiction for people to enjoy the stories and to like the characters.
At first I probably seem very abrupt, but I like efficiency. There's work and there's play, and I always think: 'Let's get the work over with so we can thoroughly enjoy the play.
You'd be naive if you think you are going to retain any control once you option a character to TV.
I was a university professor, I could talk on and on and on. Give me a podium and you have to drag me off with a hook.
Ahh! Lady Pillows. So much fluffier than mine.” He took a giant whiff. “Why does everything girlie smell so delightful?” “Because we acknowledge the importance of basic hygiene. And periodically clean our bathrooms.” “Brilliant. I should write that down. After all, it takes a village.
Ben locked his eyes on mine for a long moment. Then, “How?” “How do you think?” I smiled, then slapped him full across the face
Fine. Everybody wears seatbelts. No radio. No distractions.” Ben shot Hi a stern look. “No running commentary.” “Your loss,” Hi said. “To the pimp ride!
I’m adding ‘canine’ to my searches,” I said. “And ‘instinct.’” “Whatever. I’m adding ‘lunatic.
Ben yanked Hi sideways as spikes snapped from the wall…Once again, only Ben’s reflexes had saved him. “Please stop doing that!” Ben barked. “Please keep doing that!” Hi warbled.
Tory a father isn’t supposed to fear his fourteen-year-old daughter. That being sad, you terrify me.
Amazing.” Hi stripped off his shirt, wrung it out. “Score one for your honker.” “Thanks, I think.” I cocked my chin at Hi’s substantial midsection. “Nice abs.” “Yeah, I work out twice a month. No expectations. But stop hitting on me, it’s embarrassing.
Hiram!' Shelton ran to Hi's side. 'Aren't you you bleeding? I thought she shot you!' 'Red wine. When I saw it running everywhere, I played dead.' He winced as Shelton poked his belly. 'But I'm not leaping off any more shelves. That was pretty stupid.
Im studying jerkoffs in the wild," Ben answered dryly. "This seemed like a good chance to view one up close.
You all right now?" "I'm exceptional. Wonderful. Thanks for the concern. You complete me.
Though a good cop, Luc Claudel has the patience of a firecracker, the sensitivity of Vlad the Impaler, and a persistent skepticism as to the value of forensic anthropology. Snappy dresser, though.
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