Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman
Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 2
Take three wacky aunts, two talking animals, one nervous bride, and an upcoming hit, and you’ve got the follow-up to JB Lynn’s wickedly funny Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman.
Knocking off a drug kingpin was the last thing on Maggie Lee’s to-do list, but when a tragic accident leaves her beloved niece orphaned and in the hospital, Maggie will go to desperate lengths to land the money needed for her care.
But the drug kingpin is the least of her worries. Maggie’s aunts are driving her crazy, her best friend’s turned into a bridezilla…and a knock on the head has given Maggie Dr. Dolittle abilities—she can talk to animals. Unfortunately, they talk back.
It’s just another day in the life of this neurotic hitwoman…
You just know it’s going to be a bad day when you’re stuck at a red light and Doomsday is breathing down your neck.
In this particular instance Doomsday happens to be a seventy-pound Doberman pinscher. Instead of having the voice of doom, she sounds an awful lot like an air-headed, bimbo-y blonde. “Way that! Way that!”
Did I mention that Doomsday has really lousy grammar?
“Not that way,” Severus Snape drawled from the front passenger seat. Okay, not really Snape, but God … zilla, a talking brown anole lizard with an attitude to match his namesake.
Have you followed all this so far? The superior talking lizard is in the front passenger seat, the breathy Doberman is in the back, and I, Maggie Lee, am in the driver’s seat, even though it doesn’t feel as though I’m in control of this wild ride we’re on.
I know this whole thing sounds crazy. I know animals can’t talk, but ever since I was in a terrible car accident a month ago, I can understand them. Of course I haven’t mentioned this little side effect to anyone, because I’m afraid they’ll lock up my crazy ass in the nuthouse (hell, with my luck, they’d probably make me room with my mom, who’s a long-term resident), and I’ve just got too much to do to let that happen.
Which brings me to why God and Doomsday were arguing about which direction we were headed. I needed to kill someone at a wedding.
It’s a toss-up which I hate more: killing people or weddings.
Unfortunately, I’m getting pretty good at both.
“I see a disco ball in your future.” Armani Vasquez, the closest thing I had to a friend at Insuring the Future, delivered this pronouncement right after she sprinkled a handful of candy corn into her Caesar salad.