stunt_muppet

I wanna do the first one. :P

P.S. I thought it might be more useful, rather than simply pointing you to a couple of titles, to actually provide you with a sample from a couple of said titles. So, here you go:

Lois McMaster Bujold, Paladin of Souls

"If you do not give me a bedroll at once, I am going to sit down on the ground right here and start to cry. Now."
This threat, delivered in a dead-level tone, seemed to get through at last; at least, he stopped worrying about all the things he thought she ought to have, that weren't here, and provided what she asked for, which was. He led her to the officers' tents by the trees, picked one apparently at random, poked his head inside, and ushered her within. It was stuffy and warm, and smelled of mildew, strange men, leather, horses, and oil for blades and mail. There was a bedroll. She lay down on it, boots, bloody skirts, and all.
Ferda returned in a few minutes with a piece of brown bread. She held up one hand and gave a vague wave; he pressed the morsel into it. She gnawed it sleepily. When the tent's owner returned...someone else could deal with him. Foix could have convinced him that this blatant theft was an honor to be devoutly treasured, she had no doubt. Ferda might do almost as well.

Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

Ten days after the war ended, my sister Laura drove a car off a bridge. The bridge was being repaired: she went right through the Danger sign. The car fell a hundred feet into the ravine, smashing through the treetops feathery with new leaves, then burst into flames and rolled down into the shallow creek at the bottom. Chunks of the bridge fell on top of it. Nothing much was left of her but charred smithereens.
I was informed of the accident by a policeman: the car was mine, and they'd traced the licence. His tone was respectful: no doubt he recognized Richard's name. He said the tires may have caught on a streetcar track or the brakes may have failed, but he also felt bound to inform me that two witnesses- a retired lawyer and a bank teller, dependable people- had claimed to have seen the whole thing. They'd said Laura had turned the car sharply and deliberately, and had plunged off the bridge with no more fuss than stepping off a curb. They'd noticed her hands on the wheel because of the white gloves she'd been wearing.
It wasn't the brakes, I thought. She had her reasons. Not that they were ever the same as anybody else's reasons. She was completely ruthless in that way.

Hope this helps. :)

Thou haseth my comment.

And now I wanna make you mix tapes... or at least burn you some mix CDs, since I've been forced into the new millenium, albeit against my will.

And I wanna send you books now, too. I'll at least give you recs, and provide you with quotey bits sometime in the near future. Some of my favs: The Blue Wall (Carsten Stroud), Black Water Transit (also Carsten Stroud, I'll just rec him in general), The Street Lawyer or A Time To Kill or The Partner or The Client (all John Grisham), The Prosecution (D.W. Buffa), and on a non-crime related note, A Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews, because I adore it, and occasionally start to think that I'm the main character. The Georgia Nicholson series are good for a laugh, and Jann Arden's books (although likely impossible to get in the US) are incredibly fantastic.

I'm hungry. So I'll see ya later. Good luck w/ life, et al.

I have a handful of books, I can let you borrow. I have a few by Jodi Picoult. I will write the king's of leon, king of the rodeo fan fiction. I write my own interpetation of the song, and a few other songs, I have in mind.