by Audrey Faye
I dipped my head low, making a fervent promise to the crushed paper in my hand—Carly was going to die for this, even if I had to do it with a dull spoon. And then I did the only thing an old, washed-up singer can do when she feels a beat rising in her soul and an audience at her feet.
I let my muse out of her dungeon.
This time, the guitar player grinned when I hummed the first few bars, and strummed his instrument, eyes gleaming bright. I slid a bit into a key that would be easier for him to play—and then slid right back up again when he glared.
Never challenge the size of a man’s penis or his ability to play an F# bar chord.
The vicious knot in my throat reversed course and headed to the pit of my stomach. That was fine—I had twenty years of practice singing through stage fright.
I firmed my diaphragm, whatever remnants were left of it, anyhow, and then I looked up, beyond the guitar player’s quick eyes and flying fingers, to where the three stood. Rosie in the middle, avenging warrior and general kick-butt force of nature. Lelo on the left, a skinny black stick you almost didn’t notice—except for the eyes. And Carly on the right, a glow of innocent sunshine with a butter knife in her right hand and Rosie’s fingers in her left.
I was going to sing for me—but I’d come for them. And for just a few minutes, I wanted to be the version of me they believed could exist.
I drew in a breath, the kind that my lungs used to know meant serious business, and let loose the rolling, sexy notes that start the best love song ever written. Last time I’d sung it, I’d looked deep into Johnny’s eyes and teased a smoky bar into falling in love. Tonight, I’d romance an old, slightly off-key, guitar-playing Italian grandpa instead.
Or—as I watched his fingers curl, leaning into the dancing jazz of the chords—maybe I’d let him romance me.
Thank You
I appreciate you reading!
As you might have guessed, there are more Lesbian Assassins books coming. Next up, the bad guys aren’t always… guys. And a little birdie says that one is already with my story editor, so stay tuned.
To ride in the back seat the next time Carly and Jane hit the road, head to audreyfayewrites.com and sign up for my New Releases email list. You can also find me on Facebook. And if you’ve been kind enough to write my assassins a review, please read this note :).
May there always be teal boots on your feet and a story in your hands,
Audrey
