Grim Reaper Charley Davidson is back in the twelfth installment of Darynda Jones’ New York Times bestselling paranormal series, The Trouble with Twelfth Grave.
Ever since Reyes Farrow escaped from a hell dimension in which Charley Davidson accidentally trapped him, the son of Satan has been brimstone-bent on destroying the world his heavenly Brother created. His volatile tendencies have put Charley in a bit of a pickle. But that’s not the only briny vegetable on her plate. While trying to domesticate the feral being that used to be her husband, she also has to deal with her everyday life of annoying all manner of beings—some corporeal, some not so much—as she struggles to right the wrongs of society. Only this time she’s not uncovering a murder. This time she’s covering one up.
Add to that her new occupation of keeping a startup PI venture—the indomitable mystery-solving team of Amber Kowalski and Quentin Rutherford—out of trouble and dealing with the Vatican’s inquiries into her beloved daughter, and Charley is on the brink of throwing in the towel and becoming a professional shopper. Or possibly a live mannequin. But when someone starts attacking humans who are sensitive to the supernatural world, Charley knows it’s time to let loose her razor sharp claws. Then again, her number one suspect is the dark entity she’s loved for centuries. So the question becomes: Can she tame the unruly beast before it destroys everything she’s worked so hard to protect?
About the Author
Winner of the 2009 Golden Heart® for Best Paranormal Romance for her manuscript FIRST GRAVE ON THE RIGHT, Darynda can't remember a time when she wasn't putting pen to paper. DARYNDA JONES lives in the Land of Enchantment, also known as New Mexico, with her husband of more than 25 years and two beautiful sons, aka the Mighty, Mighty Jones Boys.
Read an Excerpt
Coffee: A warm, delicious alternative to hating everyone forever.
— TRUE FACT
Few things in life were more entertaining than haunted houses. The people living in said haunted houses, perhaps. Or the time-honored tradition of watching paint dry because, sadly, most haunted houses were not actually haunted. I sat on a hardwood floor next to a Mrs. Joyce Blomme, a woman who swore her house was inhabited by the dead — her words — and waited with bated breath for a ghost to appear. Egads!
My breath rarely bated. Being the only grim reaper this side of eternity, I didn't scare easily, especially after getting an inquiry like the one I'd received from Mrs. Blomme. I got a crap ton of the things. People swearing their houses were haunted. Imploring me to cleanse the offending abode of the evil that lurked within. Assuring me I was their only hope.
What can I say? Word gets around.
Mrs. Blomme was everything one would expect a grandmother to be. She had salt-and-pepper hair in rollers, a floral housecoat, ragged slippers with threads poking out around the toes, and reading glasses dangling around her neck. Ink stained her fingers, probably from crosswords, and a pinch of white powder smudged her cheek and the tip of her nose. So, either Mrs. Blomme liked to bake or she was a cokehead. I leaned toward the former.
On any other day, I would have explained the situation more clearly to the elderly woman. Yes, I could see the departed. As the grim reaper, I ferried lost souls — those souls left behind after their initial offer of a one-way trip up — to the other side, when they were ready. Basically, that entailed me standing there while the departed stepped into my light, a light that could be seen by them from anywhere in the world, and crossed over.
So, yes, I could see them. I could also talk to them and arm-wrestle them and style their hair. But seeing the departed and convincing said departed to go into the light were two very different skill sets.
Yet there I sat — in the dark because Mrs. Blomme swore the dead were easier to see that way, and well past my bedtime because Mrs. Blomme said they mostly showed up late at night — listening to a fascinating tale of angels and demons. Of heavens and hells. Of gods and monsters!
Mostly because I was doing all the talking.
Mrs. Blomme, poor thing, was scared speechless. In her defense, and to her credit, the house was indeed haunted. But I was too busy soliloquizing the struggles of the past few days of my life to pay that fact much mind.
"And then," I said, raising my voice in preparation for the big finale, "he shoved me against the wall and disappeared into a swirling sea of smoke and lightning."
I moved my hands in a circular motion to demonstrate the aforementioned swirling mass, then turned to Mrs. Blomme to check her reaction. It'd been a hell of a tale.
To my delight, Mrs. Blomme's eyes were saucers. Her mouth hung open and her breaths came in tiny, sharp pants. Unfortunately, her state of absolute terror had little to do with my harrowing tale and more to do with the twiglike boy standing in the doorway, his mouth full of crackers.
We had already met. His name was Charlie, too, only spelled differently, and he liked riding his tricycle and painting the walls with his mother's markers. Her permanent markers, if the walls were any indication. Soap and water could only do so much.
"There!" Mrs. Blomme pointed toward him.
He was adorable, all dark hair and skinny limbs.
Mrs. Blomme didn't agree. She clawed at my arm and shrank in to my side, peering over my shoulder to look at the boy while using my body as a shield. Clearly, if the fecal matter hit the fan, I would be sacrificed.
She whispered into my ear, ever so slowly, enunciating every word. "Do you see him?" The moonlight shone in his mischievous eyes as he cradled a plastic dinosaur in one arm and a silver gravy boat in the other. No idea. His fists held as many crackers as each could carry, and he had to carefully maneuver his load to stuff another orange square into his mouth. Then he smiled at me with orange-dusted lips.
I smiled back a microsecond before his mother appeared out of nowhere to scoop him up and carry him down the hall, disappearing into the darkness.
Mrs. Blomme squeaked and hid her face. That didn't surprise me. What did surprise me was her reaction — or lack thereof — to the little girl named Charisma sitting cross-legged in front of us, listening as I regaled the horrors of the past week.
Charisma blinked up at me, sipped the last of her juice through a cup with a twirly straw, then asked, "So, he's not your husband anymore?" She was talking about Reyes. Reyes Alexander Farrow. My husband. Or, well, I hoped he was still my husband.
"I'm not sure," I admitted.
After bringing down a bloodthirsty cult a few days ago, then devouring a malevolent god —'cause apparently that's what I do — I'd succumbed to drowning my sorrows in a bottle of tequila named Jose. Three innocent people lost their lives that day, and there was nothing I could do about it. It was a bitter pill, one I was having a difficult time swallowing, so I'd been contemplating entering a hell dimension to save a handful of other innocent people who were trapped inside. Reyes convinced me to send him instead.
Just another day in the life of Charley Davidson.
That's me, by the way, Charley Davidson. PI. Grim reaper. Screwup extraordinaire. Oh, and let's not forget my newest designation: god. Not the God, but a deity nonetheless. A title I never imagined would be thrust upon me and one I never wanted.
Then again, so was my husband. A deity. A celestial being with the power to give life. To create worlds. To convince me that his plan was best when it was anything but.
Thus, I sent my one and only husband into a hell dimension via a pendant that housed a glittering stone called god glass. Probably because God, the God, made it.
I rested my head on the cool wall at my back and thought about that moment. The doubt that'd been roaring in my head. The doubt I should have paid heed. The doubt I ultimately ignored.
The workings of the god glass were quite simple considering its complex nature. It was, after all, a hell dimension of vast proportions set inside a stone set inside a pendant. Something so fragile that housed something so terrible.
To send someone to his doom, one simply placed a drop of the target's blood on the god glass then said his name.
The pendant, through the machinations of a howling tempest, would reach out and draw the person's soul inside, locking it there for all eternity. But with Reyes, the storm took every molecule of his being, not just his soul. I assumed it was because of his supernatural status, but now I wondered if there'd been more to it. At the time, however, that fact hadn't registered.
Reyes'd had a job. One simple job. He would jump in, get the lay of the land, then jump back out when I called his name. A process that was supposed to be easy according to a six-hundred-year-old rumor. It stated that to retrieve a soul from the god glass, the person who originally sent the soul inside need only reopen the pendant, say the target's name, and the soul would be freed.
Rumor was wrong. I know because that's exactly what I did.
I called. I screamed. I whispered. I begged. And still no husband.
Distraught and disoriented, I came up with a plan. I would go in after him. I would have Cookie, my best friend and confidante, send me inside.
I would have to trick her, of course. She would never willingly send me to hell. But I would leave her a note explaining how to get me back out. In theory, because I'd apparently stumbled upon a flaw in the process. But I figured go big or go home.
Just as I was about to put my plan into action, the storm erupting out of the pendant changed. It became darker. Smoke swirled around me, and heat saturated every pore, rushing over my skin. Electric. Almost painful.
Then the pendant became too hot for me to hold. I dropped it seconds before an earsplitting explosion rocked the apartment. It slammed me against a wall, causing my vision to darken around the edges and my lungs to burn from lack of oxygen. I fought to stay conscious but didn't dare move.
The storm shifted. Smoke, thick and black and alive, pooled around me. I'd looked up, tried to focus, but just as I was able to take in air, a dozen souls desperate for escape rushed through me, into my light and, in turn, heaven.
Their stories flashed before my eyes. The souls'. Innocent. Condemned for centuries by a madman.
A priest who'd somehow come into the possession of the pendant was using it for evil. He'd sent soul after soul inside. A widow who'd spurned his advances. A man who'd refused to sign over part of his land to the church. A young boy who'd seen the priest in a compromising position. And on and on. More than a dozen lives destroyed by one man.
The priest had been locked inside as well by a group of monks who took him to task for his evil deeds, but I didn't feel him cross. Then again, he would've gone to hell. This dimension's hell. Perhaps he already had.
After the souls crossed through me, all from the same time period, the 1400s, I waited. Three more beings were inside the god glass. A demon assassin named Kuur. A malevolent deity named Mae'eldeesahn. And my husband.
I would never forget the vision before me as I waited. The smoke had filled the room and churned like a supercell lit by occasional flashes of lightning.
And then Reyes walked out of it, the billowing smoke falling from his wide shoulders and settling at his feet.
Elation shot through me as I scrambled to my feet and started toward him. But I stopped short almost immediately. Something was wrong. The man before me was not my husband. Not entirely.
Smoke and lightning curled around him. It caressed him like a lover. Obeyed him like a slave. If he shifted, it shifted. If he breathed, it breathed. It flowed and ebbed at his will, the lightning flitting over his skin.
He wasn't in the storm. He was the storm.
I stood astounded as he walked toward me, taking five ground-eating steps.
I stumbled back, then caught myself before whispering his name.
He narrowed his eyes as though he didn't recognize me.
I reached up to touch his face. It was the wrong thing to do.
He shoved me against the wall and held me there as his gaze ran down the length of my body. His hand curled around my throat, then my jaw, his fingers cruel.
I wrapped my hands around his and pushed, but he didn't budge. If anything, he squeezed tighter, so I relaxed. Or tried to.
When he spoke, his voice was low and husky and resolved. "Elle-Ryn-Ahleethia."
That was my celestial name. My godly one. Why would he use it here? Now?
He seemed surprised to find me there. Astonished. Then he gave me another once-over. His expression filled with a disturbing mix of lust and contempt.
It sparked a memory. Kuur, an evil supernatural assassin I'd banished into the very same hell dimension, told me that when Reyes had been a deity himself, he'd had only contempt for humans. The same humans his godly Brother — yes, that godly Brother — loved so much.
And I was human. At least a part of me was.
I studied Reyes as he studied me, wondering what came out of the god glass. It may have looked like my husband. It may have smelled like him and felt like him and sounded like him, but the sentient being standing in a pool of billowing black smoke in front of me was not the man I married.
Was I meeting the god Rey'azikeen at last?
And, more important, had I just unleashed hell on earth?
"Will he ever be your husband again?" Charisma asked, snapping me back to the present.
I released the air from my lungs slowly. "I wish I knew."
She sucked on the straw again, siphoning every last drop.
I did the same, upending my coffee cup and letting the last precious molecules slide onto my tongue.
Then I returned to her. "He's very powerful, and I don't know what that hell dimension did to him. How much of him is still my husband and how much is 'angry god guy.' I mean, he could destroy the world if he put his mind to it. That would suck."
The girl's gaze slid past me, her mind clearly pondering everything I'd just told her. Good and evil. Dark and light. It was a lot to take in.
"I'm not allowed to say hell."
"That's probably best. Stay as far away from that place as you can. Don't even think about it."
A part of me did wonder if I should be telling such a young child about hell dimensions and demons and world-destroying gods. At least I didn't tell her about the little girl who was killed by one such god just the other day. Surely my omitting that part of the story would warrant a checkmark in the "pro" column.
"Or butt crack."
"I think I hear something," Mrs. Blomme said.
"So, anyway," I continued, "that was three days ago, and I haven't seen my husband since."
"He just disappeared?"
And he had. He'd kept one powerful hand locked around my throat and jaw, his other hand braced on the wall behind me, and the fire that perpetually consumed him licked over his skin when he stepped closer. When he pressed into me.
I lowered a hand to his rib cage, encouraging him to close the distance between us. Praying he'd remember.
"Reyes?" I whispered, testing.
Then he did close the distance. He bent his head, buried his face in my hair, and brushed his sensual mouth across my ear. When he spoke, his voice was thick and breathy. "Reyes has left the building," he said, a microsecond before shoving off me and vanishing into a sea of roiling smoke and crackling lightning.
And he was gone. Just like that.
I'd stood there for what seemed like hours until the sun came up, watching the smoke slowly clear from my apartment. And for the first time in a long time, I had absolutely no idea what to do. Until I did. Until I'd been given a new case.
Before receiving the summons from the frazzled Mrs. Blomme, I'd been hunting.
Charisma jumped to her feet. "I have to pee."
"Okay, have fun," I said to her back as she rushed out of the room.
I still wondered why Mrs. Blomme couldn't see her. Not for long. Maybe, like, seven seconds. I had too many other things on my plate to wonder overly long, but it did tickle the back of my brain.
"I told you," Mrs. Blomme said. She was still using my shoulder as a protective shield. "My house is haunted. You saw them, right? The woman and the boy?"
"I did. But, Mrs. Blomme —"
Before I could continue with the bad news, my phone dinged. I dug it out of my back pocket. My uncle Bob, a detective for the Albuquerque Police Department, had texted me about a case we were working together. I sometimes consulted for APD, mostly because my uncle knew what I could do, and solving cases was a thousand times easier when the murdered victim could tell the police whodunit. This case, however, was far more disturbing than I'd led my uncle to believe.
Two bodies had been found mutilated and burned. But mutilated in a very unusual way and scorched in random spots. The burns didn't kill them. Internal damage and blood loss from the mutilations did them in. It was as though they'd been beaten and clawed to death, but the ME said the attacks were not from an animal. He said they were human.
Or, I had to wonder in the back of my mind, perhaps they were made by a god inhabiting a human body. An angry god made of lightning and fire and all things combustible. His temper, for example.
A pang of anxiety caused my stomach to clench and my cheeks to warm.
Uncle Bob's text asked simply, "Any luck?"
I texted back. "Not yet."
It would not be the answer he wanted, but it was the only one I had to give. I'd been using all my resources on the case, and no one, dead or alive, knew anything about the murders.
I turned back to Mrs. Blomme. One of her curlers had worked loose and hung lackadaisically over an ear. "Mrs. Blomme," I said, softening my voice.
She glanced up at me from behind my shoulder.
"I'm so sorry to tell you this, but you're right. Your house is haunted."
She swallowed hard and nodded, taking the news well.
"But, hon, it's haunted by you."
Straightening a little, she leveled a curious stare on me. "I don't understand."
"You died thirty-eight years ago."
She blinked, and I gave her a moment before continuing. To absorb. To process.
Excerpted from "The Trouble with Twelfth Grave"
Copyright © 2017 Darynda Jones.
Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Really enjoyed this book. Had some very interesting twists. All of the characters continue to be lively and move the plot forward. I find myself laughing with (not at) the dialogue.
Sure hope there is going to be another book as th e ending......will leave you wanting
Write faster please?!?!?! I mean really this cliff hangers are killing me!
Reading these books time flies so that when I get to the last page I'm so disappointed I'm done already. They are hard to put down but they also give me something to look forward to. Seldom is an author able to bring the story to life so clearly I can see it in my head as I read. I am so looking forward to the next book! You are gifted Ms. jones
First let me say, I love these books and this one is no exception. So many places, had me laughing uncontrollably with tears streaming down my face (it is so hard to read with tears between your eyes and reading glasses). Excellent story, the end left things hanging and I dislike thinking we are close to the end of this wonderful series but now am anticipating the next. Rock on Darynda.
Never put it down...read it in one afternoon best one yet
Amazing. Problem: having to wait until the next book is released. The great thing about finding a series after it’s already finished is being able to binge read and not worry about when the next installment will be released.
I’m left feeling not satisfied. It was great, don’t get me wrong, but I felt slightly confused for a pretty long while, then the end just rushed up on me, and it felt somewhat disconnected from things. And then the ending ending really came out of left field, but not in the way where you feel like you’re smart because you DID notice those details, but in a way that has you scratching your head. So again, love the books, the writing was awesome, as always, but the plot was a bit discombobulated for me.
Like all of her books, this was a wonderful engaging, read.
I've read all of the Charley Davidson books and I can't say enough good things about them. I have just finished the twelth book and I am awestruck. Charley has to figure out how to fix her husband and stop him from being evil all while taking care of those around her. Of all of her books, this one is hands down, the Best! My heart is in my throat right now and I don't know if it will be back where it belongs before the final book comes out! Kudos, Mrs Jones, on a total grand slam.
Wish I read slower or found the series after more books were written! Can't wait for more.
Wonder "chapter" in the Charlie and Reyes story but I wanted in to last longer. These two deserve a break and some quality time together before the next crisis. Quick pace, terrific snappy dialogue....I'm impatient already for the next book.
Every time that I read the latest Charley Davidson book, I am transported deep into her wacky world. I love all of the characters so much – it is truly like catching up with best friends. I found myself either laughing at their antics, gasping at the unexpected twists or swooning over delectable Reyes. Ms Jones always keeps me on my toes – I never know what Charley is going to do next. And the side stories are just as entertaining – such as how Cookie distracts the police so that Charley can sneak past them – I had tears of laughter! And how Charley helps her friend outmanoeuvred the forensics team or how she wakes poor Garrett Swopes up. And I was totally blown away by the ending! There is nothing predictable or boring about this series – they are full of mischief, mayhem and delicious, hot guys. They are my sweet tantalising treat and an absolute delight to read. The only negative is that I have to wait another year for my next fix!
I have said it before and I will say it again, the best part about these books are the snarky attitude that the characters give off as well as all of the Meme, Quotes, True Facts, etc. that the author incorporates into the books. I always spend time reading each and every one of these quotes that are on the front of each chapter. There are so many favorites. I would want that job of just searching for all of these quotes for these books. Ok, onto the story. Reyes is gone. Well gone for the moment. Charley is not going down without a fight to bring back her husband. He may be the must feared demon but he can set her soul on fire with just a look or touch. I love Reyes but this former self of him is "hot. Talk about the ultimate "bad boy". Yet in true Darynda Jones fashion, she keeps the wittiness, charm, and full personality of Reyes in tack. On the other hand, it was nice to see Charley interacting more with all of her friends with Cookie and Garrett. The scene where Charley walks in on Garrett sleeping with a woman in his bed only to have a gun pointed at her head and Charley commenting "I brought you a cupcake" almost made me bust out laughing. This would not have been a bad thing if I was not at work. Finally, can I talk about the ending. Talk about cliffhanger. The Trouble with Twelfth Grave will have you bursting at the seams with laughter; as Charley and her friends, find themselves dealing with mayhem, murder, and tons of snarky comments. You won't want to put this book down.
I have loved this series from the beginning and this new one just adds to that feeling. With Reyes acting strange Charlie, along with her friends, must figure out what is going on with him. What is making him act differently, and is it something serious? Meanwhile Charlie is working on a case and it's not something that she can just let fall through the cracks. With everything that is going on will she be able to help those who need her and those she cares about? Charlie is such a well developed character, who I've enjoyed seeing grow with each new book. I'll be sad when the last book is published but know in the end she'll come full circle and be that much stronger a character for it.
THE TROUBLE WITH TWELFTH GRAVE is the twelfth instalment in Darynda Jones’ contemporary, adult CHARLEY DAVIDSON urban fantasy series focusing on part time private investigator, full-time grim reaper, omnipotent god Charley Davidson. THE TROUBLE WITH TWELFTH GRAVE should be not read as a stand alone as it picks up immediately after the events of book eleven -ELEVENTH GRAVE IN MOONLIGHT. Told from first person point of view (Charley Davidson) THE TROUBLE WITH TWELFTH GRAVE picks up three days after the events of Eleventh Grave in Moonlight wherein Reyes Farrow’s return to this plane of existence as the god-like deity Rey’azikeen comes with the release from Hell of innocent souls, a demon assassin, a malevolent deity, and a fifteenth century priest who will continue his murderous ways by targeting the supernatural. Not only does Charley struggle to locate the man that calls to her heart but our heroine must battle the Almighty’s Michael and his army of sword-wielding angel warriors, Hellhounds, and General ‘Wong’ for control of her husband’s destiny and possible demise. Meanwhile, Charley’s PI business and her abilities to talk with the spirits that continue to haunt the living push our heroine towards an elderly woman who believes her house is haunted by the dead; and a friend’s misfortune to become the target of a serial stalker but a stalker who will not survive his own violent tendencies. A series of unexplained brutal deaths with the lingering burn marks by an otherworldly being find our heroine facing a conundrum as the likely suspect is the man that she loves. THE TROUBLE WITH TWELFTH GRAVE follows Charley as she searches for the man once known as Reyes Farrow. Convinced she will be able to ‘reach’ Reyes before Rey’azikeen does any further damage, our heroine will soon learn that the god has other plans upon his return to Earth. There is a large ensemble cast of secondary and supporting characters including the return of Cookie and Ubie, Amber and Quentin, Garrett Swopes, Charley’s sister Gemma, former slave demon Osh, Rocket and his sister Blue, gang-banger Angel, Strawberry Shortcake, Mr. Wong, Officer David Taft, FBI Special Agent Kit Carson, and Artemis the dog. Garrett Swopes will make a discovery; a series of interesting reads that will be all-important to our story line heroine. Darynda Jones’ continues to amaze and delight with our heroine’s sass and sarcasm; the one on one interplay and witty repartee between Cookie and Charley; double entendre, euphemisms, snark and Charley’s need to label and name not only the parts of her body but Cookie’s as well. The premise is revealing, startling, energetic and animated; the characters are familiar, colorful and engaging. THE TROUBLE WITH TWELFTH GRAVE and Darynda Jones’ CHARLEY DAVIDSON UF series will captivate, energize, amuse and startle. Take a chance on Charley; fall in love with Reyes; become life long friends with the story line characters.
In the Twelfth installment of the Charley Davidson series by Darynda Jones, Charley is in a race against the clock to reign in the evil god Rey'azikeen before his brother takes him out for good. Since Rey'azikeen happens to also be her husband, Reyes, she has a vested interest in bringing him back into the fold. While Charley and her friends try to track down Reyes, she's knee deep in the PI business, trying to hunt down whoever is behind the strange murders happening around town, and protecting her friend from being charged with murder. As everything starts to come together, the unthinkable happens, and Charley is put in an impossible situation. Once again, Darynda Jones absolutely blew me out of the water. I am amazed that this series just gets better with each installment. The Trouble with Twelfth Grave has mystery, drama, the humor that drew me into this series from the very start, and the hot Hot HOT chemistry between Charley and Reyes, in any of his incarnations. If you haven't yet been introduced to the series, I highly recommend you get started TODAY.
The Trouble with Twelfth Grave by Darynda Jones was a powerful read for me. There is just so much involved in this story that I was laughing, crying, cringing and holding my breath as this story swept me up and didn't let me go until the end. Charley, Rey'azikeen/Reyes, Cookie, Garrett, Osh, Uncle Bob, and Amber are all back. Ms. Jones also brought back Michael and introduced us to Rey'azikeen's brother, Him. There was so much going on that I just couldn't put the book down. Charley is trying to protect her friend, Pari, help Uncle Bob with a really unusual case,tame her "feral" husband, and protect her loved ones. Action, nail-biting suspense and love made this the best one yet! And the ending - a cliff hanger that has me already wishing away this next year so that I find out how this series is going to end. I voluntarily reviewed an Advance Reader Copy of this book from St. Martin's Pressvia NetGalley. All of the above opinions are my own. I would like to sincerely thank St. Martin's Press for their generosity in allowing me to read and review this book.
What can I say about Charley Davidson I haven't already said? I'll always remember the first time I read First Grave on the Right. I finished it the same day, because it's so easy to lose one's self in the story (and Reyes). This next installment didn't disappoint. The Trouble with Twelfth Grave almost reverts back to the original story. Reyes is the bad and Charley solves cases and drinks coffee while she deals with an internal conflict about the love of her life. But the tone of this book varies with the first since it's darker and more intense and the stakes are much, much higher. AND THAT ENDING! I didn't know if I should cry or throw the book against the wall or continue my life in denial about that ending. It's going to be torture waiting for the next book, which is also the last book in the series, so it's going to be a sad day when we say bye to these wonderful characters. But maybe we could get a spin-off? *Fingers crossed*
I’m going to give advice that I’m horrible at taking for myself. You’re gonna want to start at book one. This whole series follows Charley Davidson with a wide variety of side characters and a continued storyline. Even though I have not read all the books...yet, I’m loving this series. Darynda Jones is a captivating writer. I love that it’s full of laughable moments as well as so much paranormal action that there isn’t a dull moment. In book 12, Charley is so busy that I was exhausted for her. While on a 24 hour deadline, Charley was trying to find her missing husband, who may or may not be about to destroy the world; investigating a murder to keep her friend from being arrested; investigating a serial killer that can only be by a supernatural and guiding her niece as she starts her own investigating firm, teenage style. All the cases are solved but this still ends on a cliffhanger. I’m looking forward to the next book! ARC provided by NetGalley.
WHAT IS THE BEST PART OF THIS SERIES? Characters, Humor, Story, Paranormal Flavor, Mystery, Heart, gods, demons, ghosts, and always surprises! Jones starts each chapter with a quote from a t-shirt, bumper sticker, or just a true fact. These I read out loud to my husband on occasion. Won't say they are the best part of the series but they are note worthy. Charlie Davidson is a detective, daughter, niece, best friend, wife, mother, and Oh Yeah the grim reaper and a god. With twelve books so far in this series the characters are a part of the reader's life. Even though the story line is amazing it is the writing style and talent of Darynda that shines the brightest. Warning!! This is not a stand alone nor would you want it to be. Ask for this series for Christmas or a gift. It lacks for nothing. "A copy of this book was provided by St. Martin's Press via NetGalley with no requirement for a review. Comments here are my honest opinion."
**4.5-5 stars** Dear Darynda, why must you do this to me with your endings?! *Gah* Ok self… try and remain calm until Book 13 comes out. The Trouble with Twelfth Grave is the second to last book in the fantastic Charley Davidson series. *Cries* When we last left Charley and the gang, Reyes had just come out of the god glass she’d put him in and was not the same person as Charley’s husband. Now what would Charley do? Would this Reyes cause chaos and destruction? Would he harm the people Charley loves? Was there any part of her Reyes still inside? And Reyes isn’t the only one that came out of the god glass… With murders and mysterious deaths to solve, along with stopping her “husband” before he can wreak havoc on the world and making tough decisions about what do to with Reyes should it come to that, Charley has her hands full. Thank goodness, she has her family and friends to help her along the way. Another great book in the series! Darynda is wonderful at giving us the laugh-out-loud moments to soften the “dark” times. I can’t get enough of the Charley Davidson series and I’m going to be so sad when it’s over. But I know Darynda will have amazing books ahead for us. And now the wait until the final book…*sigh* **I was given an ARC from the publisher via NetGalley for an honest review**
What a ride. This series is a truly great, wild ride
Great read and can hardly wait for the next book ! !