Lisakiel

“I noticed you tore down Donovan's house."

He lifted his gaze until it locked with mine. "He's alive because he left town. His house chose to stay. It paid the price.”
― Darynda Jones, Fifth Grave Past the Light

“Carson," she said when she picked up. I liked it. Clear. Concise. To the point.
I decided to try it myself. "Davidson."
A loud sigh filtered to me. "Charley, you called me. You can't just say Davidson."
"What are you, the phone greeting police?”
― Darynda Jones, Sixth Grave on the Edge

“But, you're his son," I said, trying really hard to hate him. "You're the son of Satan. Literally."

"And you are the stepdaughter of Denise Davidson."

Wow. That was a bit harsh, but, "Okay, point taken.”
― Darynda Jones, First Grave on the Right

“Gemma Davidson,” she answered, her voice as groggy as I felt.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Who is this?”
“Elvis.”
“What time is it?”
“Hammer time?”
“Charley.”
“Did you text me? Did your car break down?”
“No and no. Why are you doing this to me?” She was funny.
“Check your cell.”
I heard a loud, sleepy sigh, some rustling of sheets, then, “It won’t come on.”
“Not at all?”
“No. What did you do to it?”
“I ate it for breakfast. Check the battery compartment.”
“Where the hell is that?”
“Um, behind the battery door.”
“Are you punking me?” I heard her fumbling with the phone.
“Gem, 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.”
“That was you?” she asked, appalled.”
― Darynda Jones, Third Grave Dead Ahead