As the final Charley Davidson novel arrives on shelves, we thought you would enjoy a walk down memory lane with a few Charley/Reyes scenes to put a smile on your face. Charley Davidson, Grim Reaper, and Reyes Alexander Farrow, Son of Satan, have taught us many things over the last few years.
1. We need to remember family.
“You didn’t remember who you were when you were born?”
His grip on my wrists eased, but just barely. “No. But I’d done my research well. I should have grown up happy, gone to the same schools as you, the same college. I knew I would have no control over my own destiny once I became human, but it was a chance I was willing to take.”
“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.
– First Grave on the Right
2. Sometimes everyone needs a Time-Out.
“Reyes, what happened?”
He’d been busy nibbling his way to my collarbone, his hot mouth evoking seismic activity at each point of contact.
I really hated to interrupt, but… “Reyes, are you listening to me?”
He raised his head, a sensual grin playing at the corners of his mouth, and said, “I’m listening.”
“To what? The sound of blood rushing to your nether regions?”
“No,” he said with a husky chuckle that made me tingle everywhere. “To your heartbeat.” He leaned in again, began the aerial assault again.
“Seriously, Reyes, how did you get hurt?”
“Painfully,” he whispered into my ear.
My chest constricted with his answer. “Time-out,” I said, grabbing the wrist of a hand that was doing the most amazing things to my girl parts.
He twisted his hand around and wound his fingers into mine. “You’re putting me in a time-out?”
“Yes,” I said as a shaky sigh slid through my lips.
“If I don’t go, do I get a spanking?”
A burst of laughter escaped before I could stop it.
– Second Grave on the Left
3. Sometimes we need to be reminded of the important things in life.
“You agreed to be tied up when there is a legion of demons after you?”
“Yes. I didn’t really think of it in those terms.”
He released an exasperated sigh and started forward. “Someday, I will understand how that mind of yours works.”
I snorted. “Good luck.”
– Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet
4. There really is an app for everything.
“You,” the man with questionable intelligence said. “My wife comes in here every day to eat because of you and she takes pictures.” He shoved the phone toward Reyes, but Reyes had no intention of entertaining the guy’s accusations. He kept a deadpan expression on him refusing to look at the phone until I thought the man would explode. I decided to intervene.
“Oh, my God.” I said to Reyes. My eyes radiating accusations at him. “She took your picture? Just what kind of game are you playing? You’re under arrest, Mister.”
His mouth tilted and a dimple emerged on one cheek as I took his wrist and threw him against a wall, or well, urged him toward it. I held him against the cool wood with one hand and frisked him with the other. Slowly. Deliberately caressing parts of him I had no right to caress in public. I ran my hand over his buttocks, caressed first one pocket, then the other. Then I slid my hand under the apron and did the same to his front pockets.
He tensed when my fingers brushed across his crotch. Feeling the heat surrounding him magnify, I ran my palms down his thighs, front and back, the up over his stomach and ribs. I had no idea frisking could be so fun. Thankfully we were partially hidden a rubber tree plant.
Though I wasn’t doing it to make anyone jealous, the lethal glares coming from half the women in the place told me they were not as amused as I was, or Reyes. At least he got my sense of humor and he didn’t mind my groping him in public. Welcomed it if the sultry look in his eyes was any indication.
The man stood back not sure what to think. That was my secret weapon. Confuse them and keep them guess long enough to run away.
I brought out the most powerful tool I had in my arsenal. “If you resist,” I said into Reyes’s ear, “I’ll be forced to taser you.”
He looked at what I had in my hand. “That’s a phone.”
“I have an app. You’ll probably experience nerve damage, slight memory loss.”
His grin widened. He reached back, took hold of a belt loop and pulled my hips into his.
– Fifth Grave Past the Light
5. Sometimes you need a sledgehammer when breaking down emotional walls.
But something wasn’t right.
“Reyes. Alexander. Farrow,” I said.
Seconds after I spoke his name, Reyes walked into his bedroom, and I looked across the open space directly from my room into his.
He waited for me to continue.
“I feel like there’s something missing from my bedroom.”
A dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t say.”
“Any idea what that might be?”
He glanced around my room as well, the shrugged. “I can’t imagine.”
“Oh, wait,” I said stepping from my room into his, “wasn’t there something here? Like, I don’t know, a wall or something?”
He looked up. “You might be right. I do seem to remember a barrier of some kind here.”
“Yep,” I said, stepping closer, “I definitely remember a partition separating our apartments.”
When his only response was a mischievous tilt of his full mouth, I asked, “Where did you put my wall?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against his door frame. “What makes you think I took it?”
“It was there this morning.”
“And that means I took it? Maybe you just misplaced it. Where exactly did you see it last?”
I pressed my lips together. “You tore down my wall.”
The smile he wore could’ve charmed the panties off a nun. Completely unrepentant, he admitted, “I tore down your wall.”
I stepped closer and he locked his long arms around my waist. “My apartment isn’t a safe place,” I warned. “It gets broken into a lot, it’s haunted, and it has a terrible aversion to cinnamon schnapps. Long story.”
“And you think taking down this wall was a bad idea?”
“Well, now that there is no barrier here the curse that has been cast upon my humble abode has now seeped onto your side too.”
“This is a non-seepage opening.”
“Really? Because it looks pretty seepy.”
– Sixth Grave on the Edge
6. Never go to bed mad. It gets lonely.
“So, are you gonna relax anytime soon?”
I stuck my key into the lock and opened the door. Reyes stepped behind me and shut it.
Keeping his arm braced against the door he pressed against my backside.
“Is that an offer? I am feeling a little tense across my shoulders.”
I turned to face him. “I thought you were mad at me.”
“I am.”
“Well, I make it a rule never to have sex with anyone who’s mad at me.”
He arched a brow. “It’s a wonder you’ve ever had sex at all.”
“Right?”
– Seventh Grave and No Body
7. You can learn some very interesting things from a romance novel.
“Going commando?” I asked as he crawled onto the bed. The mattress sank under his weight.
Ignoring me, he read the title of the book I kept firmly between our gazes. “Lover Awakened.” He nestled his head on my shoulder. “Weren’t you reading this book last month?”
“No.”
He raised a brow.
“Yes. I can’t stop. I’ve read it twenty-seven times in a row.”
He chuckled. “Do you need to be awakened?”
“’Parently.”
“You know, you don’t need a manual for that. I can walk you through it step-by-step.” He ran a finger over down the curve of my neck, his heat licking across my skin, soaking into my nightgown.
“That’s okay,” I said, fighting a grin. “This author covers the basics. Her hero seems very well-informed. I think I’m getting the general idea.”
“But can he do this?” He slid a hand under the covers and over my knee. Separating my legs, he wrapped one of his around one of mine, locking mine apart as he pushed the other knee, distancing them farther. He kissed my shoulder and slid his fingertips over the delicate folds between my legs, parting them, easing inside. But even more than his touch was his fire. It rippled over me, settling deep inside, melting me until the warmth pooling in my abdomen ignited. I curled one fist into the sheets and opened even wider, greedy for more.
“Well, I can’t say,” I said breathlessly. “I’ve never met him. But he seems very capable.”
– Eighth Grave After Dark
8. Sometimes you need to do a little extra to get ahead at work.
We walked in, and Reyes had been right. Dixie wasn’t the last bit concerned at how late he was.
I glared at him. “Are you trading sexual favors with our boss for special consideration and advancement opportunities you are under qualified for?”
A lopsided grin spread over his face. “No.”
“Oh. I was going to say that if that’s what it takes, I’d do ‘er.”
“What about Cookie?”
“I’d do her too, but I don’t think it would get me very far with Dixie. Unless, you know, she was into that sort of thing.”
He let out a soft laugh.
– The Dirt on Ninth Grave
9. Sometimes 15 minutes can do more than just save you on insurance.
“I was wondering if, maybe, you know, if you weren’t doing anything at the moment and you liked me—as in liked me liked me—if you might consider letting me tie you up and have my way with you. For fifteen minutes.”
Gawd, I was good at this this. I should’ve been a lawyer.
When he only stared, I looked away and tried to force the heat that crept up my neck and face back down. Humiliated was not my best look.
“But I understand if you don’t want to. It’s kind of sudden.”
I scrambled to my feet and was about one step from the threshold when an arm shot out to block my path. I didn’t even hear him move.
He stood at my back, his breath stirring the hair I’d stuffed behind my ear, which was probably as red as the rest of me.
“What happens after fifteen minutes?” he asked.
I turned to him but kept my head down, afraid that if I peered into the sparkling depths of his eyes, I’d be lost.
He had one hand braced on the doorframe. He braced the other on the counter at my side, locking me in. “What happens after fifteen minutes?” he asked again, his voice smooth and full of challenge. It tugged at something deep and primal. I fought my reaction to him. Tamped it down. Forced my bones to stay solid.
I craned my neck to look at him, but he didn’t accommodate me by moving back. He stood his ground, and I stood mine. “Nothing,” I said, both confident and drunk on anticipation. “You’ll be completely spent by then.”
The small, incredulous grin that lifted one corner of his full mouth sent every nerve in my body springing to life. He’d just presented me with a challenge I couldn’t refuse.
“I’m not pubescent, darlin’. I’m pretty sure I can last more than fifteen minutes.”
“And I’m not a giggling schoolgirl. I’m pretty sure you can’t.”
– The Dirt on Ninth Grave
10. Fidelity is rewarded – with whipped cream.
“I’ll see you for breakfast?” he asked, hesitant.
“I don’t know. I’ve kind of been seeing someone for breakfast on the side.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “And who would that be?”
“Her name is Caroline. I’m in love with her.”
“Is that right?”
“She makes the best mocha lattes I’ve ever had. She splashes in a touch of heavy whipping cream. Makes all the difference in the world.”
“So, your breakfast is a mocha latte?”
“Yes.”
“Mine’s better.”
Damn it. He was right. As much as I loved Caroline and her amazing mocha lattes, few things on the planet compared to Reyes’s huevos rancheros. He knew what chile did to me. He knew what he did to me, decadent creature that he was. He totally should have been a master chef. Or a male stripper. Or an exotic dessert. Reyes à la mode. I’d eat every bite and lick the plate clean.
– The Curse of Tenth Grave
11. There’s always time for a snack.
“Kiss me,” he said, in yet another command I was willing to obey. But just this once.
I felt his smile behind the kiss as I pressed my mouth to his.
I pulled back and licked my lips. Then smacked them and licked them again. “You taste like cotton candy.”
He pleasured me again with a satisfied grin. “Do I?”
“You do.”
He licked his own lips and put his head back in thought. “You taste like–”
“Pot roast?” I offered.
He chuckled.
“Chile rellenos? Cinnamon rolls? Battery acid? I’ve got to stop eating those things.”
– Eleventh Grave in the Moonlight.
12. Your Mom isn’t the only one who forgets your name.
He pushed into me harder. “Who am I?”
“Reyes,” I said between gasps.
Brace one of my knees with his hip, he grabbed a handful of hair in warning and said from between clenched teeth, “Who am I?”
I dug my nails into his steely buttocks, pleading with him to move faster. “Rey’aziel.”
He jerked my head back, but didn’t increase his torturous speed. “Who am I?”
I grabbed handfuls of his hair as well. squeezed tight. Jerked back. Then, refusing to give in, I said, “My husband.”
That surprised him.
– The Trouble with Twelfth Grave
13. Whether it’s spiders or demons, no one takes care of you like your spouse.
“Wait here,” Reyes said, stepping out of Misery.
“Wait here? I’m not waiting here.”
He turned and growled at me. Low and deep and guttural.
I parted my lips and took him in, all scruffy hair and wide shoulders. “Now you’re just trying to seduce me.”
He narrowed his lids, but his mouth softened nonetheless. “I just want to make sure there aren’t any around.”
“Demon?” I asked, snapping to attention. For some reason I’d never understand, I yanked my feet off the floorboard, tucking my knees under my chin, and wrapped my arms around my legs. “You think they’re here?”
“I don’t know,” he said, fighting off an attack of the dimples.
Apparently, I was hilarious.
– Summoned to Thirteenth Grave
There is time for one last adventure before we have to say farewell to Reyes and Charley in Summoned to Thirteenth Grave by Darynda Jones.
Updated: 1/13/19 – originally posted on HeroesandHeartbreakers.com 6/12/16.
