Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman

The Hitwoman’s Girls’ Night Out is almost here!

Here’s a sneak peek!

just know it’s going to be a bad day when Armani’s planned a girls’ night out. 

            A sharp rap on my bedroom door woke me from a blissful dream where I was lying in a meadow, all by myself, soaking up the silence and staring up at the stars. My dreams are pretty much the only place where I get to be alone.

            Startled awake, I struggled to sit up and focus on the door, but I was held down by the cat pressed to the top of my head, the Doberman draped across my chest, and the pig weighing down my legs. Instead of sitting up, I felt suffocated. 

The bedroom door swung open, and Armani Vasquez burst in. “Morning, chica!”

            “Go away,” I groaned. I would have covered my eyes to emphasize my point, except my arm was trapped under DeeDee, the dog. 

            “Big night, tonight,” my friend declared, ignoring my instruction to leave. 

            “I was sleeping,” I told her grouchily. 

            Slowly, the animals stirred, releasing me so that I could sit up and glare at my friend. 

            “We were all sleeping, Sugar,” Piss, the one-eyed cat, grumbled.

            “I was not asleep,” God, the anole lizard, declared from where he balanced on a piece of driftwood. “I awoke with the dawn.”

            “Me too! Me too! Me too!” Benny, the little white mouse chimed in, racing around in circles in his little cage. 

            “I hate morning creatures,” I muttered. 

            “I’m hungry,” Matilda, the pig, grunted, sliding off the foot of the bed and landing with a heavy thunk on the carpet. 

            “She’s always hungry,” God pointed out.

            “Hungry!” DeeDee barked excitedly. 

            “Her too,” the lizard griped.

The Doberman leapt over her porcine pal, almost knocking Armani over in the process, and raced out of the room, toward the kitchen. Matilda waddled behind. 

            “Close the door,” I implored Armani. It was bad enough that she was in here, I didn’t need any other early morning visitors coming to pay their respects. 

            “You’re a grouchy one,” my friend said, lowering herself onto the spot on the bed that Matilda had just vacated. 

            “I was asleep,” I reminded her.

            “Late night with Gino?” she asked with a curious sparkle in her eye.

            Instead of answering her, I pulled the bed sheet over my face. “What do you want?”

            “Aren’t you excited?” It sounded like she was excited enough for the both of us. 

            I flipped the sheet back off my face and asked, “About what?”

            “Our girls’ night out.”

            I was about to tell her that a girls’ night out sounded like the seventh ring of hell, but Piss stuck her claws into my shoulder. “She’s worked hard on this,” she purred quietly.

            Knowing the cat was right, I managed a half smile for Armani. “I can’t wait,” I said with false cheer, trying to be a good friend.

            She cocked her head to the side and gave me a suspicious look. I guess I hadn’t been too convincing. I was not a good friend.

            “I’ll be more enthusiastic after coffee,” I promised her. 

            “Just tell me you’re not going to back out,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. She knew me too well. “Promise me, Maggie.”

            “I won’t back out,” I pledged. That was mostly because I had not come up with a good excuse to miss the outing. I’d been trying to think of one for days. 

            “I’ve taken care of everything,” my friend said excitedly. “I made the plans. I bought the outfits. I arranged the transportation.”

            “Hold up,” I said, raising a hand, trying to stop her as panic tightened my chest. “What outfits?”

            “I got them for everybody,” she said, standing up. “Don’t worry, you’re going to love yours.”            I squinted at her suspiciously. I love Armani, but I don’t always love her taste…or lack thereof.

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