The Hitwoman and the Fallen Angel
Even a good man makes mistakes…
In Maggie Lee’s topsy-turvy world, Angel Delveccio is one of the good guys, but now it seems he’s gotten himself into some trouble. Can she get him out of it?
It’s not like she doesn’t have enough problems of her own. She’s struggling to pacify both the people and pets of her household — all of whom aren’t shy about voicing their litany of complaints and demands about their new home.
Stretched thin, Maggie attempts to broker familial peace while simultaneously contending with an external threat that revolves around a human skull.
And let’s not forget that a certain mobster has tasked her with keeping his nephew out of hot water.
Can Maggie protect Angel while keeping her family safe and together, or will someone be lost?
You just know it’s going to be a bad day when an angel has fallen and can’t get up.
Too bad I had no idea about that at the moment. My current problem was that my aunts, Loretta and Leslie, were squabbling incessantly.
You know that research that says moving is stressful (like any of us need a chart to tell us that)? They’re downplaying how bad it really is. At least for my family. To be fair, my aunts hadn’t moved in more than three decades. Now that they were, they’d ended up circling each other like hyenas ready to pounce on some freshly killed wildebeest.
We were in the process of adjusting to the move to my grandfather Herschel’s farm. Poor Herschel, who had not been in his daughters’ lives for decades, was standing in the corner of the room looking shell-shocked. The twins were busy screaming at each other. I had to assume this was the same thing they had done as children, so I didn’t know why Herschel looked quite so appalled. Then again, he was of the generation when fathers were hands off. He looked pale and sweaty, and I was more than a little concerned that the bickering was taking a toll on his physical health, especially considering the old guy had been recently shot by someone trying to kidnap my beloved niece, Katie.
“Make them stop,” God implored from his hiding place in my bra as my aunts’ screeching reached a crescendo.
I glanced down at the lizard, curled up between my breasts. “How?” I asked. Usually, I don’t want any of the little guy’s suggestions, but now I was desperate for any advice.
“You’re just being impossible,” Loretta huffed, her fake eyelashes quivering indignantly.
Leslie, who is always the easiest going of the sisters, was for once, holding her ground. Which was unfortunate because it meant this wasn’t going to just blow over. “You’re being impossible,” Leslie retaliated.
I half-expected her to stick out her tongue at her twin. Taking a deep breath, I waded into the fray, stepping between them. “I’m sure we can find a solution.”
Both my aunts turned their glares onto me, and I found myself taking a step backward. I really wished Aunt Susan was here, she was much better at wrangling her younger sisters than I was, but for some reason, she hadn’t shown up yet.
“The room is perfect for what I want,” Leslie said.
“And it’s perfect for what I want,” Loretta replied, stamping her foot, which made her barely contained cleavage jiggle like it was about to make its great escape.
If you’re wondering what they each wanted the room for, Leslie wanted it so she could build herself a grow room for her marijuana. Aunt Loretta wanted it so she could install a stripper pole.
What I wanted was for both of my middle-aged aunts to just grow up and shut up. Moving into Herschel’s place was supposed to make things easier. It was a multi-building compound, with enough space for the entire family, and it had seemed like the perfect solution considering we were all displaced after the Bed & Breakfast that had been our home had been blown up.
Nothing ever works out as cleanly as you think it’s going to. Nothing. Ever.