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EXCERPT: Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman by JB Lynn
That was the only warning I received. Suddenly Doomsday was doing her damndest to dislocate my shoulder. She bounded away. If I hadn’t had her leash wrapped around my wrist she would have been gone. Instead, she dragged me with her. Fighting to stay upright, I screamed, “Stop! For the love of—”
Twisting my ankle, I lost my balance and took a knee-skinning header for the second time that week. Except this time, my journey didn’t end when I hit the ground. I kept moving. “Doomsday!”
My battered body bounced along the ground.
I’m not sure if it was my desperate shriek or the fact that she was now dragging my dead weight across the ground, but she seemed to realize that we were attached. “Game!”
“No, it’s not a game. You almost killed me. You can’t—”
Ignoring my protestations, she enthusiastically licked my face. “Maggie love. Maggie love.”
Pushing her away, I struggled to my feet. “Don’t do that again. You almost broke my wrist.” I held it up, pointing at the red welts where the leash had cut into my skin. “See what you did?”
Doomsday hung her head.
I glared at her. “You hurt me.”
“Sorry.” The apology came out as a pathetic whine.
My knees hurt, my wrist ached, and I’d almost gotten fired. I had every right to be pissed at the badly behaved mutt. Didn’t I?
Doomsday pawed at my shin. “Doomsday sorry.”
I closed my eyes. Like my day wasn’t bad enough.
I turned around to face the car that had pulled to a stop behind me and forced myself to smile. It made my cheeks hurt as much as my knees. “Hi, Aunt Susan, what are you doing here?”
“Move slowly, Margaret. Don’t startle it. Just get in the car.”
There was no missing the panic in my normally calm and collected aunt’s voice and face. My fake smile morphed into a genuine one. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. That’s a dangerous animal. Get away from it!”
Doomsday turned around to look behind her. “Animal where?”
Throwing open the door of her car, Susan leapt out brandishing a folded-up umbrella.
“So much for moving slowly.”
“I’ll hit it.” She raised the umbrella overhead. “You jump in the car.”
“Margaret, that dog is dangerous.”
“Doomsday?” the dog whined.
“Shoo!” Susan shouted.
Doomsday ran behind me, burying her head into the back of my knees, almost knocking me over.
“Calm down, Aunt Susan. She’s not going to hurt anyone. She’s a good dog.”
“Good dog,” Doomsday repeated.
“Get away from my niece, you vicious beast!” Susan took a wild swing in the canine’s direction.
“Give me that!” I shouted, grabbing the umbrella and yanking it away from her. “She’s my dog and you’re scaring her.”
Aunt Susan’s eyes went wide and her jaw dropped open. The only other time I’d witnessed such an expression of horror on her face was when the police had broken her favorite vase as they tried to arrest my father in her living room. Aunt Susan is not an animal lover. In particular she complains about the smell and mess dogs make. But the truth is, she’s absolutely terrified of the four-legged creatures.
Doomsday ripped the umbrella from my grip and chomped on it. It made a sickening crunch.
“Bad dog! Stop that!” Grabbing it away from her, I held it out to my aunt.
“It has … teeth marks.”
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