Murder Crossed Her Mind by Stephen Spotswood
…when you might be stepping into danger,it’s always better to err on the side of armed.
He had nabbed the shadowiest corner in the place, but I’d seen him close-up and in daylight, and I don’t know why he bothered hiding. He could’ve had his photograph in the dictionary under the entry “nondescript.” Medium height, medium build, hair brown, eyes brown, suit brown, face symmetrical but not so much that you’d notice. The only thing that marked him as anything other than a Fuller Brush Salesman was the relationship between him and the room. Those flat brown eyes (and I’m not knocking the shade, mine are teh color of mud) never stopped moving, if a fly happened to wander into the room, Faraday would’ve clocked it. If he could’ve he’d have frisked it for a weapon and wired it for sound.
Return of the Griffin by JCM Berne
Rohan scratched his beard. “Well, I hope you’re wrong. There’s a first time for everything, right?”
“As there are many things that have never happened, there is not, in fact, a first time for everything.”
“You’re taking all the fun out of my apocalypse.”
“Of course. ‘Wei Li,’ my name, means, ‘she who removes joy from catastrophe.’ In my native language.”
“Really?”
“Of course not.”
Soundtrack of Silence: Love, Loss, and a Playlist for Life by Matt Haig
Not to try to bill myself as a relationship counselor, but when a beautiful woman—who is smart and driven enough to be in med school, fit enough to run a marathon, thoughtful enough to raise money for your rare neurological condition, and patient and confident enough to to move in with your parents—sticks with you as you relearn how to walk, you would be a fool not to marry her. Those are the rules.
Fortune Smiles by Adam Johnson
DJ understood that in South Korea, Americans were considered friends. He’d never really believed they were the enemy. After all, hadn’t Americans invented scratch-off lottery tickets, crystal meth, hundred-dollar bills and, most important, the catalytic converter?
“Do you believe in second chances?” she asked. “Can people change their nature?”
DJ leaned against the bus shelter. “Those are two different questions,” he said.
The Other Family Doctor: A Veterinarian Explores What Animals Can Teach Us About Love, Life, and Mortality by Karen Fine
Sometimes, this human-animal love is present in our lives but not central. We may have busy lives in which our pets are just a part. Perhaps we don’t think of them as a fundamental presence, but they are there, as solid and reliable as a comfortable chair to sink into at the end of each day. Our pets bear witness to the intimate, everyday details of our daily existence, weaving and threading their own personalities into our lives and households. With them, we are home. When they are gone, we feel their absence deeply.
Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands by Heather Fawcett
“There is nothing trivial about good coffee.”
“The problem is not the packing, I admit; I simply dislike traveling. Why people wish to wander to and fro when they could simply remain at home is something I will never understand. Everything is the way I like it here.”
City on Fire by Don Winslow
Danny misses the ocean when he’s not here.
It gets in your blood, like you got salt water running through you. The fishermen Danny knows love the sea and hate it, say it’s like a cruel woman who hurts you over and over again but you keep going back to her anyway.
Providence is a gray city.
Gray skies, gray buildings, gray streets. Gray granite as hard as the New England pilgrims who hacked it out of the quarries to build their City on the Hill. Gray as the pessimism that hangs in the air like the fog.
Gray as grief.
Another Girl by Peter Grainger
Green put a chair by his desk and made her sit down on it. The rest of them moved a little closer, made conversation, and tried not to stare at the damage done to her face. It would heal on the outside, of course. But it’s the other side we need to worry about.
…common sense and the law are not always the close bedfellows we’d like them to be…
A Quantum Love Story by Mike Chen
“I had a breakfast shake. And, um, something for lunch. Something from the Hawke café. I can’t remember what.”
“Okay. So you had sustenance today. That’s not eating. Every single meal is a chance for a new experience.” He took a carton in each hand and waved them in front of her. “Smell this. This is eating. It’s different from sustenance.”
Such a thought seemed like a declaration in a foreign language. Of course she enjoyed a good restaurant, but when every second counted, taking the time to savor a single meal seemed, well, a little counterproductive.
“Time’s gonna pass, but if you slow down a little, you might enjoy it. That’s what eating is all about.”
So her truth proved to be stranger than fiction. Which made it harder than fiction
Spells for the Dead by Faith Hunter
What I knew about alcohol could be written on my little fingernail in longhand…
(Image by DaModernDaVinci from Pixabay)
