Quotes from Jeff Lindsay

Wardrobe had a suite on the twenty-fourth floor, and we stepped into an elevator filled with three businessmen, complete with gray suits and briefcases, which seemed like overkill on a Saturday morning. Maybe there was a board meeting at their church. The door slid shut, and one of them glanced importantly in our direction. He looked away haughtily, and then did a double take. "Holy shit, Jackie Forrest?!" he blurted out, and the other two gave a start and then gaped at us, too.

Sí?"she said shyly, and I marveled once again at the power of my totally smarmy synthetic charm. And in two languages, too.

You're home!" she said as she rushed through the front door. "Because I have some wonderful news, and I have to— Cody, don't just throw your jacket there; hang it up on the— Astor, for God's sake, don't slam the door like that. Here, take the baby," she said to me, thrusting Lily Anne in my direction and turning away again so rapidly that I had to lurch forward to grab the baby, spilling a quarter of a cup of coffee as I did. Rita

Jackie smiled graciously and did her part, the noblesse oblige she had talked about. I almost wished she'd been rude to them, since I had to hold the elevator door open for a long minute while she signed one of the briefcases with a Magic Marker. There were distant chimes, indicating that somebody else wanted the elevator, and the door kept thumping me as it tried to close and answer the call.

The images did not quite mesh, but they were very unsettling, as if you had entered a cathedral for high mass and found people copulating on the altar. Brian

What the fuck, Dexter," Deborah said accusingly, as if it were my fault the two blood types were different. "I'm sorry," I said, not at all sure what I was apologizing for, but quite certain from her tone of voice that I should.

You said Brian is forcing us to go to Key West, whether we want to or not," I said. "And you said all the houses will be there. Other than that, you might as well be speaking Etruscan." Rita

it's always seemed to me that when you need a lawyer it's already too late.

It had enough room for all of us at a price we could easily pay off in ten years or so, which wasn't too bad, considering that it was in Key West and the town was founded by rapacious pirates.

Every now and then I feel like I am only receiving one track of a stereo recording, and this was one such time. I had no idea what—well, to be honest, I didn't even have an idea what to have an idea about.

Hey," he said, and we all turned to look at him. Deke nodded at the floor. "The lady fainted," he said, and we all turned to look where he had nodded. Mrs. Aldovar, as advertised, was out cold on the floor.

I looked at the money in the still-open suitcase. Half a million dollars. It seemed like an awful lot. I had never really been motivated by money—after all, I had not gone to law school. Money to me had always been merely something the sheep used to show each other how wonderful they were.

Still, it was a starting point for someone with my special skills—the professional ones—and I pondered it as I worked. It was, after all, an area of real personal interest to me. And additionally, if this had been Deborah's case, she would almost certainly have demanded some kind of special insight from Sick and Twisted Me. So I thought about it, and although I came up with nothing helpful, at least it passed the time.

My story is simple, straightforward, and unassailable. I learned

I went over it all in my head, again and again, and it all added up the same way, and the only thing that really stuck out was the thought that it was all very simple, perfectly connected, coherent and logical and right, and I had no choice but to act as quickly as I could, and why should that be bothersome?

My story is simple, straightforward, and unassailable. I

As I have mentioned, I am not a fan of Facebook. It seems to me like a kind of quiet and subtle virus that worms its way into every aspect of the living tissue of daily existence, until it is impossible to think about cereal without finding an ad for Raisin Bran in your in-box. I am sure the endless intrusive connections can be a great deal of fun for some people, but it really doesn't make sense for Dexter.

If there really is a God, which is, at very best, extremely debatable, he has a terrible sense of humor. Because the detective in charge of deciphering the carnage is Detective Anderson, a man who has lived his life without making a friend of intelligence, wit, or competence. And

Yes," I said. "It is a bit over-the-top." "That's their world," Brian said with a shrug. "They seem to enjoy histrionics.

Anyone this completely clueless did not deserve another day of using up oxygen that I might want someday. It was a clear civic duty to yank this idiot out of existence ASAP, before he had a chance to contaminate the gene pool.

To be truthful, she couldn't catch any of them unless they hurled themselves off a building and into the front seat of her car, but this didn't seem like a good time to bring that up.

But these same poor benighted pedophiles were required by the parole board to live within those same city limits. Because twenty-five hundred feet is, when you think about it, a relatively long distance, it turned out that there was only one place where these people could live that satisfied both requirements—underneath the Julia Tuttle Causeway, on a spoil island halfway between

I watched him go for a second, marveling that such a truly awkward performance came so easily to such an apparently perfect man. It was so odd that for a moment I thought it had to be deliberate—perhaps a way to change the subject? Could he really be that uncomfortable talking about his affluent ways? Or was he hiding something even more nefarious than wealth?

But these same poor benighted pedophiles were required by the parole board to live within those same city limits. Because twenty-five hundred feet is, when you think about it, a relatively long distance, it turned out that there was only one place where these people could live that satisfied both requirements—underneath the Julia Tuttle Causeway, on a spoil island halfway between Miami and Miami Beach.