Cletus Quotes

Grandpa?" Declan raised his eyebrows. "We keep him in the shed out back," Jack said helpfully. "So he doesn't eat dog brains.

That’s right. You seize that woman, Cletus. You make her yours. And then after,” still grinning, Duane dropped his hand on my shoulder and gave me a little shake, “you give that woman your sausage.

I changed my mind.” “You changed—” “My. Mind.” I stopped short and faced him, placing my hands on my hips. “It’s like underpants, Jethro.” “Dirty and dark?” He smirked. “No.” I scowled at his facial expression. “A mind is like underpants because people change them all the time.” “But you don’t.” “I do change my underpants all the time, Jethro. And, for the record, I think it’s mighty rude of you to assume I don’t.” He almost rolled his eyes, but caught the urge. “I meant your mind, Cletus. You don’t change your mind.

you ask too many questions," snapped Cletus. I kept my gaze on Roman. "that's because I get too few answers.

Allow me to take a moment to express my appreciation for Cletus Winston and his entrances.

Stop it.” Cletus snapped his fingers in front of our faces. “I hate it when you two mind-meld through your eyeballs.

If you give Cletus an inch, he’ll take a light-year.

You’ll know one day, Cletus. You’ll discover what it’s like to find the other part of yourself. You’ll know it’s her, only her, always her. Maybe not right away, but eventually you’ll know. She’ll be your beginning, middle, and end. And your intentions won’t matter. Love brings its own intentions, and all other plans, hopes, and dreams fade to insignificance in the face of love.

The phone in my hand buzzed, demanding my attention, and a text flashed on the screen. It was from Cletus and the sight made my heart lurch and twist, a pining ache stealing my breath. As I scrolled through my notifications, I noticed several texts. Cletus: I’m sorry. I was wrong, you were right. Cletus: I just realized you probably don’t have your phone. Cletus: I think I’m going to make myself useful by retrieving your phone. Cletus: I just left your parents’ house. I have your phone. Cletus: Clearly I had your phone, if you’re reading these messages.

I’d kiss you but I don’t want our beards to tangle.

That’s right. I’m looking for an escape. Drew is out there. And—oh God—Cletus, I’m the worst. I’m so awkward, my awkward is embarrassed by my awkward.

I'm after a woman who likes sex but doesn't put the lust part above the intelligence part. She could have a hundred partners for all I care, just as long as they've been vetted for psychopathic tendencies. I have four rules. Number one: don't invite a person into your body if you wouldn't invite her into your kitchen. Number two: the act needs to take place in a clean environment. Number three: precautions need to be taken to protect from disease and pregnancy. And Number four: don't ration the passion, i.e. put you best fuck forward.

I aspire to different achievements than worldly success, and I know you do as well. But, Claire, I’m glad you finally saw reason and accepted the record deal. Your star is too bright to hide in plain sight.” “You just rhymed, Cletus. I might have to steal that for a song.” “Go ahead. I ain’t using it for anything profitable.

This is what we do. We fix things. We’re tinker-ers. If we didn’t tinker with cars, we’d tinker with people.” Drew flashed a rare grin. “You already tinker with people, Cletus.” “You are correct,” I sat straighter in my seat, ready to defend myself, “but only my family. And y’all deserve my tinkering.” “Don’t get me wrong. You’re good at tinkering. Aside from those revenge plots, people are lucky to have you interfering in their lives.

Talking, I was beginning to suspect, was the root of all evil. The ease of it in particular was an issue. Talk it out. Talk it over. Talk it through. Useless. If more folks thought it out, thought it over, and thought it through instead of talking, then the world would be less cluttered with opinions and assholes." Cletus Winston

See, Cletus has this thing for cheese, but since he has no thumbs he has to have me give him his cheese on his food every night. If I die, no one else knows about Cletus and the cheese, and poor old Cletus would lose his mind. So I can’t die until he does. See how that works? (Jack)

Cletus had instructed Duane to put his concerns in the suggestion box. Of note, Cletus had labeled the shredder in the upstairs office suggestion box a year ago when Duane had suggested half days on Fridays. “What

Yeah, see, and that proves my point. What killed Housini? A stupid accident. But for one moment of stupidity, he’d have grown old with his Bess and been happy as a big in shit. Notice I ain’t young, and if I die, old Cletus would kick my ass for leaving him all alone down here. (Jack)

Oh. That.” I shrugged. “She said I’d gained weight so I assumed she meant I was looking healthy.” Cletus raised an eyebrow at this, staring at me as though I’d lost my mind. “Why would you do that? Clearly she was waving her obloquious flag.” “What does obloquious mean?” “It means she’s a hateful bitch.

Cletus sneered. “You are the opposite of boastful, and your humbleness verges on infuriating.” “Gee, thanks.” I rolled my eyes. “Look, all I’m saying is that if a person is great at something, she shouldn’t have to pretend she's not, and she shouldn’t have to downplay her hard work. There's nothing wrong with humility or modesty, Jenn. But—for heaven's sake—take credit for being a badass.

I shivered, also moving closer, irritated by the layers of clothes between us. "You're such a good teacher, you fell for your student." "Yes, I did." His beard tickled my neck as he sucked my earlobe into his mouth. “And I continue to fall, daily.

Do you want to tell me what happened? Why were those bikers chasing you?” Jessica’s gaze bounced between us. “They were upset I switched their tampons with Depends.” Cletus sounded so serious and reasonable, I almost believed him. And I’d been there.

Free Gucci Mane.

Cletus’s middle name wasn’t “Evasive”, but it should have been. Another

You'll know one day, Cletus. You'll discover what it's like to find the other part of yourself. You'll know it's her, only her, always her. Maybe not right away, but eventually you'll know. She'll be your beginning, middle, and end. And your intentions won't matter. Love brings its own intentions, and all other plans, hopes, and dreams fade to insignificance in the face of love.

I’m not an expert,” said Cletus. “I’m a scholar. There’s a difference. An expert’s a man who knows a great deal about his subject. A scholar’s someone who knows all there is that’s available to be known about it.

We all did a lot of staring that day. The point that struck me as most interesting about our collective staring was the objects at which people stared. Jethro stared out the window. Billy stared at the fireplace. Cletus stared at the front door. Beau stared at the kitchen table. Duane stared at the refrigerator. Roscoe stared at Momma’s sewing desk. I sat in my recliner and stared at the spot where the hospital bed had been.

I’m going to give you some advice, Cletus.” Duane hit my shoulder. “It’s something you once said to me.” “Oh, no.” “Oh, yes.” He grinned, big and wide, and that was a sight to see. Duane never grinned, not really, not unless Jessica was in the room. I braced myself for whatever nugget of excrement he was about to toss at me.

Most men—especially young men—are simple creatures. But the good news is, men can and do change their minds.” "This is a distressing conversation." I rubbed my forehead, feeling a little nauseous. "Am I alarming your delicate sensibilities?" "No. It's not that. I just feel sorry for men now. It must be frustrating to be so feeble and limited." Cletus's eyes widened dramatically just before he barked a laugh. "Feeble and limited? Is that how you would describe men?" "No. But apparently that's how you would describe them.

You have a big heart. I would never trade your mammoth, irrationally generous heart for a smaller, more frugal one. I love every square kilometer of it.” A laugh tumbled from my lips and I lowered to the couch. “Really? It’s that big?” “It should have its own zip code. And it’s my third favorite thing about you.

We were still at the beginning, our beginning, and I'd never been as truly happy in my entire life as I lived and breathed and endured during the moments we spent together.

She breathed a little laugh, stepping closer, her other hand coming to my jaw. “You are one in a million.” “And you are one of a kind.

If you can’t hold your temper in society, then you don’t get to be part of society. Those are the rules.

If we allowed folks to pick fights whenever they experienced unruly emotions, then everyone in town would walk around with a black eye.

I am a man born by a woman; birth by woman doesn't say perfect but fallible, so judge me by putting yourself before a mirror and examining how much scars you've got

Cletus Byron! Stop stuffing Astrophysics Monthly down your pants!’” Cletus

I love you so much, and I miss you. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Cletus Winston.” “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Jennifer Sylvester.

 I’m . . . concerned. You appear to be upset. What’s wrong?” His voice gentled and his eyes searched mine. “What’s happened? And what can I do to help?” I crossed my arms because my stupid heart was fluttering again. He caught me off guard. I was not at all prepared for Cletus Winston’s concern. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to bring y’all muffins. Can’t I bring y’all muffins?” He was scrutinizing me again. “No. Something’s off. Is it Jackson James? Do I need to maim him? Because I will. I could give him leprosy, you know. Armadillos are carriers.” My mouth fell open and a bubble of laughter emerged unchecked. “Cletus Winston, you will do no such thing.” “Sheriff’s deputy or not. Just say the word. It might improve him, actually.” “You are terrible.” I laughed, even though he was terrible, and I felt terrible laughing at such a terrible joke. At least, I hope it’s a joke

One thing I don’t know is why you’re drinking coffee from a Hello Kitty thermos.” Cletus sounded both interested and irked. “And why haven’t you bought one for me? You know I like that Hello Kitty.

Jethro huffed a laugh and shook his head. “You know, Beau. You’re a lot more like Cletus then you let on.” “Thank you.” Beau grinned at me. “In lightof recent events, I’ll take that as a compliment.

But I’m not an expert,” said Cletus. “I’m a scholar. There’s a difference. An expert’s a man who knows a great deal about his subject. A scholar’s someone who knows all there is that’s available to be known about it.

Cletus takes a sizeable gulp from the bottle, then points at Arden. “You’d learn something from that one, boy. She’s a hard worker. A survivor. Gets things done. That girl doesn’t know it, but she’s going places in life.

What’s wrong?” Billy’s question had me looking up. My second-oldest brother was already  dressed for work in his suit and tie. “And shouldn’t you be fishing with Hank?” “I cancelled. I have an errand to run.” Grabbing a coffee cup from the cabinet, I tossed a thumb over my shoulder. “The toilet is acting funny.” “Like what? You mean satire?” This question came from Cletus, not bothering to glance away from where he was reading at the table. He was still in his pajamas, his curly hair a mess.Nevertheless, I was surprised to see him up so early. “No, I mean—” “I hope it’s a dark comedy,” he added, still not removing his attention from the newspaper. “Cletus. That’s disgusting.”Sitting across from Cletus, Duane’s tone was reprimanding. Finally, Cletus tore his eyes from the paper. “What?” “Dark comedy?” My twin lifted his eyebrows.“Meaning poop?” “No, Duane.” Cletus paired this with a suffering sigh. “That would make it a shitty comedy,” I piped in, adding fuel to the conversation fire as I was prone to do, feeling more myself as I smiled. “Y’all are a bunch of toilets,” Billy mumbled under his breath. We all turned our attention to our older brother, with Cletus speaking for us, “Let me guess, because toilets in this house actfunny?” Billy tilted his cup toward Cletus. “Exactly.” I grinned, the rawness in me settling. Being around my brothers was a salve and a good reminder. We had all lived through dark times—sometimes together, sometimes separately—yet here we were, making toilet jokes on a Wednesday before 7:00 AM.

I grinned at Jessica James’s backside as she walked away because she had a big old brown grease stain on the left side of her skirt where I’d palmed her ass. “Damn, Duane, you got big hands.”Cletus sauntered up next to me, wiping his own hands on a rag. My grin became a frown and I shot my brother a look. “Don’t be looking at Jess’s ass.” I’m not looking at her ass. I remind you sir, she is my calculus teacher.” Cletus lifted his chin toward Jessica’s departing form. “I’m looking at the palm print on her ass.

Look who finally decided to show up.” Cletus greeted me with both hands on his hips, standing just outside the garage. “I was about to send out a search party, but none of Hank’s exotic dancers are awake at this time of day.” Cletus paused thoughtfully, and then added, “Except Hannah.

How’s the coffee?” “She hasn’t had any yet,” Cletus answered for me, then added, “but she wants you to ask her on a date tonight, no place public. Somewhere private, for discussing things.” Jethro’s eyes widened, and he glared at his brother’s reflection in the rearview mirror, snapping, “Cletus.” “Don’t clutch your pearls at me, big brother. Look at her, for hootenanny’s sake. She’s got the hots for your ugly face, Lord help her. And I know you’ve been thinking about her, judging by how long you took in the bathroom this morning.” I clamped a hand over my mouth just as shocked laughter burst from my lips. “Dammit, Cletus,” Jethro growled, turning the ignition and shooting his brother an incendiary look. “You are the worst. Just, don’t speak. Ever. Don’t speak ever again.” Jethro’s gaze darted to me then away as he sighed, looking remorseful. “I’m so sorry.” I placed my hand on Jethro’s thigh—FYI he had a really nice thigh—to ease his mind and because I wanted to touch him. “No, no. Please don’t apologize. He’s right and he’s wrong. I do have the hots for your face, but it isn’t at all ugly.” At this Cletus snorted and grumbled, “Well, it ain’t pretty.” Jethro pressed his lips together and I could see the hint of a smile there amidst his frustration. “Glad you have the hots for my face.” “Just ask her out already,” Cletus demanded. “She ain’t doing anything tonight. You two will go out tonight.

Billy helped,” Jethro said, his voice held hesitation. “Billy?” Duane didn’t try to mask his surprise; he and Beau stared at each other, communicating for several seconds without talking. The twins’ ability to impart thoughts through a look had always been frustrating. I didn’t like being left out of a conversation. “Yes. Billy. Billy helped,” I confirmed irritably. “And will you two cease discussing with your eyeballs. There are several other people in the room who can’t brain-link.” Duane lifted an eyebrow, his eyes darting from me to Beau and then quickly to the floor. “Fine, Cletus. Cool your engine.” I grunted, but said nothing. I didn’t want to pick a fight with Duane. I only had a few more weeks of him hanging around and the thought depressed me. He was a grumpy, brooding little bastard who had the habit of only speaking when spoken to—and sometimes not even then. I was going to miss him.

Having a beautiful future doesn’t lessen what you’ve lived through, it doesn’t mean you’re not grieving hard enough or that you’re ignoring weighty matters. It means you honor everything you’ve been through, all the hellish obstacles, and you recognize that you’re worthy of happiness, of beauty, of peace.

Oh, now. Come on. Billy isn’t so bad.” Cletus nudged my shoulder, repeating my words from earlier. I huffed an exasperated laugh. “Yeah. Not so bad. Except I think you’re forgetting one very important fact.” “I never forget facts.” He shook his head quickly, both dismissing and teasing me. “Facts are my friends.” “Oh yeah? You think so?” “I know so. I send facts Christmas cards every year and they reciprocate with peppermint bark.” “Well then, how about this fact: Billy will never ask me out on a date.” And that was a fact. Billy Winston was completely and irrevocably in love with Claire McClure. This information was not widely known, but I knew. I was a people watcher.

he needed a crocodile sample to get out. Damned if he cared if it was some mutant crocodile that ran around on its back feet fighting tigers, he was going home.

the truth, that being in love means my beloved takes precedence over even my own comfort, persnickety future mother-in-law notwithstanding.

Be suspicious of folks who tell you what you want to hear.

Make choices that allow you to sleep at night.

I wondered if, fundamentally, the world was made up of people who either sought justice at the expense of redemption, or those who sought redemption at the expense of justice.

Billy, of course, didn’t need a new suit. He already owned eleventy thousand. The dandy coxcomb.

You have to do your own growing no matter how tall your grandfather was.” ​— ​Abraham Lincoln

I don't ask people to love me; I act that the values and meaning of love should be understood, although am not perfect

I surrounded myself with different people; races and tongues. And out of them I found heaven, although no one can ever make a hell for me!

But no man would sacrifice his honor for the one he loves.” “It is a thing hundreds of thousands of women have done.” ― Henrik Ibsen, A Doll's House

Where were his dubious morals when I needed them?

When we give alms, it doesn't seem we have too much, but our assets increase when there's smile on the faces of those we helped; their smiles is our assets, our assets is their smile

He paused, opening the velvet box and revealing a white gold or platinum necklace, the chain comprised of delicate but wide filigree sections with diamonds set in star shapes at each of the links.

Congratulations, Jethro. Happy for you.” “Thanks, Drew.” The two men stared at each other and something passed between them, an understanding of some sort. “Oh great, now Drew and Jethro can mind-meld. I’m getting out of here.” I turned from the group and their chuckles. “Come on, Cletus. Stick around. I’ll gaze longingly into your eyes. Us single guys need to stick together,” Beau called after me.

Is there something going on with you?” I asked, giving him ample opportunity to share his troubles. His eyes lifted to mine and he twisted his lips to the side. He stared at me, carefully masking his thoughts and saying nothing for a time. Then he shook his head. “Nope. Nothing is going on with me.” Beau’s tone was deliberately devoid of telling emotion. I scrutinized him further. “Stop it, Cletus.” “Stop what?” “Stop trying to peer into my mind.” He cracked a half smile, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I would never do that, Beau. Your mind is a depraved and dissolute place. I would fear for my eternal soul should I manage a glimpse inside.” He grinned at my teasing and I was pleased to see it. “That’s right.” He turned to the door and called over his shoulder as he left. “And don’t you forget it.

Jenn,” I said very loudly, sidestepping Jackson and inserting myself between the two of them. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” “Have you?” she asked, her sweet face tipped back and her impossibly pretty eyes arresting mine. “Yes. I have,” I said, then promptly forgot what I was going to say next. I sensed a hovering presence behind me so I glanced over my shoulder at Jackson—the hoverer—and frowned impatiently. “Do you mind? Give a man some space.” “That’s real funny, Cletus,” he said, not sounding amused. “Because I was just—” “Do you have any—uh—taffy?” I asked Jennifer, not wanting to hear Jackson’s complaining. If he was going to complain, I decided it was best to pretend he was a ghost. Taffy was the first thing to pop into my mind. “Taffy?” Her dark eyebrows drew together; I wondered if her real hair color would be the same dark shade as her eyebrows. I hoped so. “Yes. Taffy,” I said gently, and smiled when she smiled and shrugged. “I like to live dangerously.” She opened her mouth, just about to ask me something and I couldn’t wait to find out what, when Jackson cut in impatiently. “By eating taffy?” “Yep,” I turned just my head and gave him my profile. “It puts my dental fillings in grave peril.

Cletus Byron Winston, you are being rude.” I might have my own less than glowing thoughts about my father, but he was my father. He opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut and did a double take, his eyes narrowing on me. “First of all, how do you know my middle name?” “Your momma used to use it when you were naughty, when you boys would help her shelve books in the library. ‘Cletus Byron! Stop stuffing Astrophysics Monthly down your pants!’” Cletus grinned. Then he chuckled. His eyes lost some of their zealous focus as he pushed away from the tree and strolled closer. “Oh yeah. She did, didn’t she?” “I felt sorry for Billy, though.” I scooched to one side as he sat down. “His name always confused everyone, like your momma was trying to talk to Shakespeare’s ghost. ‘William Shakespeare, would you please stop Beauford from pulling down his pants in front of the girls?’” Cletus laughed harder, leaning backward and holding his stomach. “I remember that. How old was Beau?” “He was ten. He was trying to show us his new Tarzan underwear. I don’t think he meant any harm.” “He sure did love that underwear.” Cletus nodded and he scratched his beard. “I’m going to have to find him some Tarzanunderwear in adult size.” “So you can torture him about it?” He pretended to be shocked by my accusation. “Certainly not. I don’t torture my siblings.” “Yeah, right.” I gave him my side-eye. “You forget, I’m a people watcher. I know you sell embarrassing pictures of them onstock photo sites. Jethro was griping about it after church over the summer. If it’s not torture, what do you call it then?” He lifted his chin proudly. “I offer invaluable character building opportunities. I help them reach their true potential through suffering.” “Oh, please

But then, out of nowhere, Cletus said, “I guess we’re going to have to practice.” “Pardon me?” “Practice kissing. Like what you did with Billy.” I reeled back as my head whipped to the side, our eyes colliding. I couldn’t believe my ears. “You think . . . you want me to practice kissing with Billy?” “No. No. Absolutely not.” Again, Cletus’s gaze flickered over me. “I mean you and me. I’ll help you practice.” The heart flip returned, but this time it was more forceful than before. And it brought some friends—the tummy cartwheel, the throat cinch, and the chest ache. What. The. Hell . . .?

More recently, my father has been impressed with how Billy basically started at the bottom of Payton Mills and has worked himself up to South East Region Vice President.” Cletus frowned. “Is that his title?” “My father thinks so. And he’s certain Billy wants to run for state senate. Both my parents like the idea of having a son-in-law in politics. I think that’s why they like Jackson so much. I know he has plans to run for office.” “Jackson would make a great politician.” “I thought you didn’t like Jackson?” “I don’t. Saying someone would make a great politician is like saying someone would make a great serial killer. It’s not a compliment.

Anyway,” Beau—clearly eager to change the subject—pointed down the hall, “let’s talk about the color Jethro decided to paint the second bedroom.” “What’s wrong with green?” Jethro grinned slyly. His poker face had always sucked. “Nothing is wrong with green, but that’s a very odd shade of green. What was it called again?” “Sweet pea,” Duane supplied flatly for his twin. “It was called sweet pea and I believe it was labeled as nursery paint.” “Nursery paint, huh? You have something to tell us, Jethro?” Beau teased, mirroring Jethro’s grin. “No news to share? No big bombshell to drop?” Jethro glanced at me. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell them yet.” “Why would I? I’m good at keeping secrets.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, making sure I looked innocent. “And I’m not the one who’s pregnant.” “I knew it!” Beau attacked Jethro, pulling him into a quick man-hug. Jethro’s grin widened to as large as I’ve ever seen it. “How could you possibly know?” Duane clapped Jethro on the back as soon as Beau released him. “Because you’ve always wanted kids, and weren’t one to futz around once you made up your mind.” “You should have painted it vomit green, to disguise all the baby vomit you’re going to have to deal with,” Beau suggested. “And shit brown,” Duane added. “Don’t forget about the shit.” “Y’all are the best.” Jethro placed his hands over his chest. “You warm my heart.” “Make sure the floor is waterproof.” Beau grabbed a beer and uncapped it. “Don’t tell me, to catch the vomit and poop?” “No,” Beau wagged his eyebrows, “because of all the crying you’re going to do when you can’t sleep through the night or make love to your woman anymore.” “Ah, yes. Infant-interuptus is a real condition. No cure for it either.” Duane nodded and it was a fairly good imitation of my somber nod. In fact, how he sounded was a fairly good imitation of me. You sound like Cletus.” Drew laughed, obviously catching on. Duane slid his eyes to mine and gave me a small smile. I lifted an eyebrow at my brother to disguise the fact that I thought his impression was funny. “Y’all need to lay off. Babies are the best. Think of all the cuddling. This is great news.

I can’t get two words out of her, and here you are, turning down what she’s offering for free,” he lamented flatly. “What did you do, anyway? Save her cat?” “No. That was Jess,” Duane mumbled. That made me laugh. “Jess was eight, Duane. Eight. All I did was climb a tree and get her cat.” And she’s yours now in any case. “That’s right!” Hank snapped his fingers then pointed at Duane. “I forgot about that. Didn’t Jess have a thing for Beau before you two hooked up?” “We didn’t hookup, Hank,” Duane bit back. Hank lifted a hand, palm out, as though he surrendered. “Fine. Before you twopledged your troth. Is that better?” Duane grumbled something I didn’t catch, then shrugged. “Yeah. So what? The past is in the past.” My brother glowered at me as he said this. “Oh good Lord, Duane. What was I supposed to do? Not get the damn cat? You didn’t even like her then. You used to call her freckles, remember that?” “I still call her freckles.” “No you don’t, you call her princess,” I said, not about to lose an opportunity to correct my brother about his recent domestication, mostly because I was envious of it. Hank pointed at me with his beer. “So, let me get this straight. You saved Jess’s cat when she was eight, and she had a thing for you after that?” Before I could decide how to answer, he turned to Duane. “And you’re okay with that?” “Hank, let me tell you something.” Duane’s voice took on an instructional air that cracked me up, likely because it sounded like an imitation of our brother Cletus. “If you’re looking to pledge your troth to a woman within sixty miles of Green Valley, you might as well assume she’s had a thing for my brother at some point in her life.” Duane tapped the neck of his beer against Hank’s. “Welcome to the club.” “I’m the founding member of the club, Duane.” Hank’s tone was dry and sour. “And what club would this be?” I tapped my bottle against both of theirs just to be obnoxious. “The Beau gets all the girls club. 

Okay. Fine. Why are you disappointed in me, Cletus?” “Because I provided means and opportunity. All you had to do was exploit the situation.” “What are you talking about?” “On Friday? With the blankets and coffee? You think that was all by accident? That was arranged.” “Arranged?” I blinked at him while he tore off another piece of his doughnut. It smelled like it was strawberry flavored. “Yes. Arranged.” Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms and examined Cletus. I decided he was odd. “You’re odd.” “Yes. I am. But that doesn’t negate the fact that you fumbled my pass. If we’re going to make this thing happen with Jethro, I need you to bring your A-game.” “This is about Jethro?” I sat up straighter. “Of course. What’d you think I was talking about?” Apparently I wasn’t catching on quickly enough because he sighed loudly and rolled his eyes with great effect. “Do you want my help or not?” “Yes, yes, yes,” I said quickly, leaning forward at full attention. “Yes. I want your help.” “Fine then. We need to coordinate our attack.” Cletus punctuated this statement by popping the remainder of the first doughnut in his mouth. “Good. Yes. Attack synchronization.” My phone rang as he chewed. I glanced at the screen, saw it was Marta, and sent it to voicemail. Marta called back immediately, earning me a severe frown from Cletus. “You should get that.” He gestured to my phone. “You get that and I’ll ruminate while eating this other doughnut.

I have learned through experience that god speaks through all persons as He wishes; therefore I listen to all to know if its God speaking or not.

I think now might be a good time to stop looking at anime books.

The original plan had several phases, all of which adhered to the commonly accepted rituals of human courtship. I’d intended to keep the depth of my feelings to myself for as long as she needed to catch up, at which point she would say the words first, I would concur, we would become engaged, buy a stretch of land, Jethro would build a house as a wedding present, and I’d insist on raised garden beds for Jennifer’s overall-wearing activities.

Cletus Winston is madly in love with me. ***

A brief silence followed, during which the reality of my present situation crashed over me. I was alone. I was alone with Cletus Winston. I was alone with Cletus Winston and no one knew where I was. Oh. Shit.

Cletus’s famous sausage is famous.” Cletus’s

He lifted an eyebrow, glanced between the two of us, then left thekitchen without his coffee, saying as he went, “Never mind, whatever it is, I don’t want to know. But do let me know when the hotcakes are ready. And there better be a turkey today, because I already made the stuffing, and something or someone is getting stuffed.” “Getting the turkey was Cletus’s job this year,” I called after him.

I made a list of what needed to be picked up from the grocery store for dinner. Making lists helped. Cletus had taught me to do that. Not many people knew, but Cletus had a terrible temper. As a kid his tantrums were legendary, and as a teenager his rage made him blind. He kept it all locked up now by making mental lists whenever he felt the urge to pummel someone. Of course, he also hatched maniacal plans of revenge against anyone who crossed him. Beau and I often considered giving Cletus a hairless cat as a present, so his James Bond supervillain image would be complete.

It’s not that simple.” “It’s as simple as dry toast.” “You’re encouraging me to knowingly hurt him.” Cletus grunted impatiently and threw his hands up. “We’re talking in circles. Here’s reality: People get hurt and they move on or they don’t. You can’t have it both ways. You either get to be famous, and deal with the hassle that comes with it, or you leave it all behind. Own your shit, Sienna. And let Jethro own his. And then get married and own that shit together.” Cletus stood, clearly frustrated, and stomped away from me to the back door. He disappeared into the house only to appear three seconds later to add, “And while you’re at it, beget me some nieces and nephews.

Beau must’ve guessed my intentions as he swung open his door and jumped to his feet, continuing to poke at me. “Jet, we’re all dying to know what’s going on with you and Sienna Diaz.” “No one is dying.” Roscoe unfolded from the Pontiac after I pushed my seat forward. He grinned at me as he straightened. “We’re just close to apoplexy.” “Well, I’m more worried about the blueberries.” Cletus climbed out on Beau’s side and the frown he tossed at me was grim. “Blueberries aren’t in season yet.” “Would you forget about the blueberries?” Beau hissed. I spotted Jessica’s Jag kicking up dust as it pulled up our drive. Ignoring Beau, I shut my door and made for the porch. “I share Cletus’s worry over the blueberries,” I said, just to rankle Beau. “See? Jethro’s worried, and he’s never worried.” Cletus gestured toward me then pointed at Beau. “You should be worried, too.” Jess parked next to Beau’s vintage Pontiac, and Duane held up two pints of blueberries as he stood from her fancy Jaguar. “You can stop panicking, Cletus. I have the berries.” “Oh, thank God.” Cletus held his chest and stumbled a step backward. “You should have live-tweeted your progress. I was near a fit.

 It’s just one of those things people talk about. Like, if you could have a superpower, what would it be?” “I’d like to be able to fly,” Cletus responded as though her question had been asked in earnest. “Not be invisible? Or read minds? Or be omniscient?” Roscoe suggested. Cletus shook his head. “Certainly not. That’d be redundant because I’m already all of those things.” “Then make it rain blueberries,” Roscoe teased.

Cletus frowned at Roscoe, looked like he was about to fill in the blanks, but instead said, “Roscoe, could you take Jethro’s truck and run back over to Daisy’s for more coffee?” “You’re trying to get rid of me.” Roscoe shook his head. “Yes. We’re trying to get rid of you.” I clapped my hand on his shoulder. “You’re not the law—like Drew—and you’re not sinister—like Cletus.” “Plus I want more coffee.” Cletus lifted his empty cup. “I can’t think without my coffee.

This is a huge foyer.” She spun in a slow circle, taking in the high ceilings. She’d said the word using its French pronunciation, foy-ay. Cletus said it that way. The rest of us said foy-er, like it’s spelled, because we lived in the United States and weren’t pretentious nut jobs. Not that I thought Sarah was a pretentious nut job or made such a judgment about all people based on their pronunciation of that single word. Just Cletus. He said foy-ay and was most definitely a pretentious nut job.

Sure, but I think the traps should work.” I set my hands on my hips, not wanting to tranquilize the bears unless absolutely necessary. “The ketamine isn’t just for the bears.” Drew gave me a sympathetic look, then promptly turned and left, Roscoe on his heels. “I think he expects me to use the ketamine on the film folks.” I chuckled, knowing Drew wasn’t serious. It was pretty darn close to a joke though. I was proud of my boss, he rarely made jokes. “Or use it on each other.” Cletus gulped the rest of his coffee, smacking his lips before adding. “If these movie people are as crazy as Drew thinks they are, we can self-medicate until we pass out. It’s always good sense to have an escape plan.

It’s Cletus. I’ve got a good one for you.” “Hey Cletus. You shoot another poacher?” “Nope. Didn’t shoot anyone,” Cletus assured her. “Yet.

Cletus Busters, the custodian, trudged in, tugging behind him his cart full of brooms and mops and the bags of trash he had collected as he made his way from room to room. He parked the cart by the door and, with an air of innocence, wandered around the lab without any apparent objective in mind. “Hello, little rat,” he whispered, brushing the front of one of the metal cages with his fingers.

What could possibly," he said slowly, "be weird about a DNA sample from a simple crocodile?" he said. "We have vials of similar cells. I could run a slide projector and display them on the walls like a psychedelic 1960s dance party, and none of them – not one – would be in any way remarkable without the accompanying LSD.

They both stared at the microscope as if it might hop off the bench and chase them around the room.

All their lives they had lived with the certain knowledge that there had to be a secret symbol on the outside of their house that said "Suckers live here" in cat, dog, and several other animal languages.

Well, that’s me,” Cletus said. “I’ve seen a lot of strange things. Hell, I’ve seen Jasper eat barbecue. Takes a lot to faze me.

There was a sliding, sloshing sound, and then the air seemed to shatter from the sound of a roar so loud, so overpowering it rattled teeth and echoed through the swamp. A huge shadow rose from the water directly in front of them.

They owned a pickup truck that, when on the road, looked like it had risen from a junkyard of its own volition and might have to be shot in the head to be killed.

He always woke early, had coffee, checked his e-mail and then decided whether to climb back into bed.

What is that?" Isabella asked him. "Courage," he said. "I'm with you – we kill the damn thing, whatever the hell it is, but I'm not going in there unprepared." "You have weapons? You have something to give you strength?" "I got beer, lady. I got a shotgun, and I got beer.

Jasper didn’t look convinced. Cletus slapped him on the back. “It’s been long enough since you went to church, Jaz,” he said. “I come to your trailer all the time,” Jasper said pointedly. “You ARE ordained.

When things got a bit too drunk out, the Gin was famous for what Cletus liked to term “Redneck Olympics.” He’d watched them at it more than once, and he knew better than to stick around when things started to run south of sane.

I’m not a priest,” Cletus stood up, indignant. “I follow no Pope. I am a Reverend in the Universal Life Church. We don’t perform last rites.” Jasper snorted. “Universal Life my ass. You are a Reverend in the church of send in your ten dollars and a coupon.” “Amounts to the same, in the eyes of the Lord,” Cletus replied with a wink. “Folks don’t really mind who saves them, as long as they can go on sinning until their cards are punched.

You sure you're gonna be all right, Cletus?" "Hell no," Cletus said, heading for his truck. "That's what makes it interesting.

Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of a heart.” ― William Butler Yeats