Sometimes I wrestle my demons. Sometimes we just snuggle.― Bumper Sticker Most girls might think twice before getting engaged to someone like Reyes Farrow―but Charley Davidson is not most girls. She's a paranormal private eye and grim reaper-in-training who's known to be a bit of a hell-raiser, especially after a few shots of caffeine. Her beloved Reyes may be the only begotten son of evil, but he's dark and sultry and deeply sexy and everything Charley could hope for. Really. But when the FBI file on Reyes' childhood happens to land into her lap, she can't help herself: She opens it...and then the real fun begins. First, Charley finds a naked corpse riding shotgun in her car. Then, a man loses his soul in a card game. Throw in a Deaf boy who sees dead people, a woman running from mobsters, and a very suspicious Reyes, and things can't get any worse for Charley. Unless, of course, the Twelve Beasts of Hell are unleashed… Sixth Grave on the Edge is the sixth Charley Davidson novel from bestselling author Darynda Jones “Sexy, sassy…Jones's characters, both living and dead, are colorful and endearing.” ― The Associated Press on First Grave on the Right “Jones makes a truly memorable debut with her unique tale that is sexy, mysterious, and sarcastically fun!” ― RT Books Reviews on First Grave on the Right “Charley is an all-around badass…will leave readers eager for her next installment.” ― Publishers Weekly (starred review) on Second Grave on the Left “Jones perfectly balances humor and suspense.” ― Publishers Weekly (starred review) on Second Grave on the Left “Wickedly witty.” ― Booklist (starred review) on Third Grave Dead Ahead “Charlie continues to fascinate.” ― Booklist on Third Grave Dead Ahead “The fourth entry in Darynda Jones's wildly popular Charley Davidson series is every bit as solidly successful as the first. In fact, this might be the best yet. Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet continues to blend paranormal, romance, and mystery better than any other contemporary work out there.” ― Heroes and Heartbreakers on Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet “Jones has hit on the perfect recipe for a wisecracking, wickedly funny romp that is edged with truly chilling danger…sexy and mysterious.” ― RT Book Reviews on Fifth Grave Past the Light New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Darynda Jones has won numerous awards for her work, including a prestigious RITA, a Golden Heart, and a Daphne du Maurier, and her books have been translated into 17 languages. As a born storyteller, Darynda grew up spinning tales of dashing damsels and heroes in distress for any unfortunate soul who happened by, certain they went away the better for it. She penned the international bestselling Charley Davidson series and is currently working on several beloved projects, most notably the Sunshine Vicram Mystery Series with St. Martin's Press and the Betwixt and Between Series of paranormal women's fiction. She lives in the Land of Enchantment, also known as New Mexico, with her husband and two beautiful sons, the Mighty, Mighty Jones Boys. Sixth Grave on the Edge By Darynda Jones St. Martin's Press Copyright © 2014 Darynda Jones All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-250-04563-8 CHAPTER 1 A blank is the only thing I draw well. — T-SHIRT "A girl, a mocha latte, and a naked dead man walk into a bar," I said, turning to the naked dead man sitting in my passenger seat. The elderly naked dead man who'd been riding shotgun in my cherry red Jeep Wrangler, aka Misery, for two days now. We were on a stakeout. Sort of. I was staking out a Mr. and Mrs. Foster, so I was definitely on a stakeout. No idea what Naked Dead Man was on. Considering the fact that he looked about 112, probably blood thinners. Cholesterol medication. And, judging from the state of his manhood, which I couldn't stop seeing every single time I turned toward him, Viagra. If I were to hashtag that moment, my status would read something like #impressed. I gave him two thumbs up, then looked back at the house again, happy to be sitting in Misery. The Jeep, not the emotion. I'd just picked her up from the car hospital two days earlier. She'd had several surgeries to fix her broken girlie bits because a raving lunatic rammed into her. He'd knocked her into a state of mangled disrepair and me, as I was in the driver's seat at the time, into a state of oblivion. I stayed in that state long enough for Mr. Raving Lunatic to cart me off to a deserted bridge to kill me. He failed and died in the process, but Misery had paid a high price for his nefarious machinations. Why did bad guys always try to hurt the ones I loved? And this one had succeeded. Misery was hurt. Bad. No one wanted to work on her. Said she couldn't be saved. Said to give her over to the scrap yard. Thankfully, a family friend with a body shop and a few incriminating photos, which just happened to have found their way into my possession, agreed with great reluctance to try. No