“Isaiah lifted his head. “Somebody’s here.” They stepped behind the door as a sleepy-eyed buck-naked white girl clumped past in the hall, her booty like a backpack that had slipped down too low. “Bug?” she said. They left while she… — Joe Ide Copy Share Image
“Come on in,” he said without getting up. “I’m Ed Blevins. Please, sit-sit, we’re not formal around here. Let me guess. You’re here about… — Joe Ide Copy Share Image
“We’d like to see the security supervisor,” Isaiah said. “You mean Ed?” she said, as if they were making a silly mistake. “If that’s… — Joe Ide Copy Share Image
“Now it’s hard to make out here but your dog has some dewlap, wrinkling on the forehead, the legs are a little long and… — Joe Ide Copy Share Image
“Look at him. There’s no more chance he’ll make a decent record than Bug turning down a Family Meal at Popeye’s.” Cal” — Joe Ide Copy Share Image
“picked this up at Skip’s place,” the kid said. He showed Bobby a bullet. It looked like a regular .45-caliber round but the bullet was blunter. “This is a multiple-impact round. When you fire the gun, the bullet breaks into three fragments held together with strings of Kevlar. The fragments come at you spinning like a South American bolo and… — Joe Ide Copy Share
“Nestor wondered why the guy didn't stay around & be a hero…Nestor would have to find him & thank him personally. A black guy… — Joe Ide Copy Share Image
“Isaiah went on explaining like a college professor talking to a not very bright middle school student:” — Joe Ide Copy Share Image
“The battering ram took the door out no problem. The siren was as loud as Pet City’s but the burglars wore noise-suppression headphones like the pit crews at NASCAR. They didn’t block the sound out completely but at least your head didn’t explode. Isaiah was overanxious but it was an easier score. All the Virgin Remy extensions were on the… — Joe Ide Copy Share
“My name is Isaiah,” Isaiah said. Bug held his meaty paw in the shape of a handgun, shooting it for emphasis. “Well, I’m gonna tell you straight up,” he said. “You might be something in Long Beach but you ain’t shit up in here. Get disrespectful and your shit is over, you feel me? Cal’s my nigga. You fuck this… — Joe Ide Copy Share
“I be at the strip club, gettin’ me some hot rub, tokin’ on a big dub, hungry for some big grub. Split to the… — Joe Ide Copy Share Image
“I got to stop roamin’, be a pigeon goin’ homin’ back to Mississippi, make some homemade chili while I be chillin’ with my kinfolk… — Joe Ide Copy Share Image
“Black the Knife, down without a fight A termite, a flea bite, Got stage fright, no right to life Boy’s an absentee, a detainee,… — Joe Ide Copy Share Image
