Fifth Grave Past the Light (Charley Davidson Series)
Darynda Jones
Language: English
Pages: 352
ISBN: 1250043387
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Never underestimate the power of a woman
on a double espresso with a mocha latte chaser high.
―T-shirt
Charley Davidson isn't your everyday, run-of-the-mill grim reaper. She's more of a paranormal private eye/grim reaper extraordinaire. However, she gets sidetracked when the sexy, sultry son of Satan, Reyes Farrow, moves in next door. To further complicate matters, Reyes is her main suspect in an arson case. Charley has vowed to stay away from him until she can find out the truth…but then dead women start appearing in her apartment, one after another, each lost, confused, and terrified beyond reason. When it becomes apparent that her own sister, Gemma, is the serial killer's next target Charley has no choice but to ask for Reyes' help. Arsonist or not, he's the one man alive who could protect Gemma no matter who or what came at her. But he wants something in return. Charley. All of her, body and soul. And to keep her sister safe, it is a price she is willing to pay.
Charley Davidson is at it again in Fifth Grave Past the Light, the sexy, suspenseful, and laugh-out-loud funny fifth installment of the New York Times bestselling series by Darynda Jones.
Unclean Spirits (Black Sun's Daughter, Book 1)
Magic on the Storm (Allie Beckstrom, Book 4)
Kitty Rocks the House (Kitty Norville, Book 11)
Ever After (The Hollows, Book 11)
out. I tasted him on my tongue. I sank my fingernails into his back when he pushed too hard too fast. But he didn’t stop. This wasn’t about pleasure. This was about reprisal. Revenge. His mouth tasted of wine and fire and his kiss grew just as hard as his fucking had become. A piercing arousal rippled through me as his thrust went deeper. He had clamped me to him so he could punish me, and yet even with all his anger and all his indignation, he did not hurt me. Just the opposite. Stinging
women or not?” “I already tried. They ain’t talking.” I pressed my lips together, chastising. “You could have mentioned that.” “You don’t understand. They’re here with you now. Just being around you will be healing to them. It’s like if you took the sun and shrank it down to the size of a basketball. It would still be the sun. It would still shine all bright and shit and burn just as hot. It would still be soothing. Healing. That’s you. Your light. It’s soothing like that menthol crap my mom
sobering and asking, “Do you think that’s how her teacher really taught her to say ‘I am very special’?” I hadn’t considered that. “Probably not. Unless, of course, she worked her way through college as a call girl.” His shoulders shook; then he paused, sobered, and looked to the side. I felt it, too. A heat wafting toward us. We both watched as Reyes topped the stairs, his gait like that of a panther. Every move full of purpose, every motion made with the dangerous grace of a predator. His
That’s disgusting.” I swiped at my hair, trying to clean it. Maybe I had some Lysol in Misery. Or some hand sanitizer. “Whatever,” she said, and I had to remind myself that she’d died sometime in the nineties, at the height of the whatever revolution. Her vocabulary was so different from Rocket’s, who’d died in the fifties. I finally calmed down enough to look where Rocket was pointing. I walked over to the wall, swallowing back dry heaves. I would never live this down. I tried to find the name
married?” “Cookie!” I said, pretending to be appalled. “Focus on your instructor’s words, not his ass.” “Have you seen his ass?” I groaned inwardly and made a mental note to get Cookie laid. “Get back to class, and thanks for this. I’ll call Ubie and ask him what he knows.” “No problem. But, really, is he?” “Do you still hate me with every fiber of your being?” She hesitated, then conceded. “No, I guess not.” “Yes, he’s married, and his wife is a champion markswoman.” “Damn. Another one
