by Emmy Grace
Who am I kidding? It’s hands down my favorite thing to do.
“You shouldn’t wear that top around me,” I mumble distractedly.
“What? Why?”
“Because it reminds me of ice cream. With chocolate chips. Sugary decadence dunked in more sugary decadence. And I don’t need to be thinking about food anymore than I already do.” I lean to one side and smack my butt cheek. “This trunk doesn’t need any more junk in it.”
Regina is looking at me like I’m a toddler throwing a tantrum in the dairy aisle at the grocery store. Her tone matches that very scenario. It’s rife with barely-there tolerance. “So, what colors would you suggest I wear that would help to maximize your weight loss?”
“Maybe gray? It’s a great color on you. Plus, it might remind me of being outside on the sidewalk. Like, jogging or something. And you know how much I hate to exercise.”
Regina hangs her head and mutters, “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
“How is it any weirder than all the other stupid things we talk about in a week’s time?”
“Good point,” she acquiesces. “Okay, so back to these shooting lessons.”
“I’m not going to start strapping a pistol to my leg, Regina, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s just for safety, for the odd occasion when I might get in a bind. Like I did with Leopardo.”
That’s the name of the cartel guy that gave me a little scare a few weeks ago.
Okay, fine. It was more than a little.
“The odd occasion? You mean daily, right?”
“I’m not that prone to getting into trouble.”
“Lucky, you need a bigger security team than the President of the United States.”
I spin on my chair, one eye fully made up, the other not. “Okay, what gives?”
“I don’t know what you—”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
“It’s nothing. I—”
“Fibber!”
“It’s just… Alex asked me out again.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
Alex is the nice guy she went out with right before her ex made an unexpected appearance in her life last month. She blew Alex off for coffee the next morning because she was…otherwise engaged.
“I just…I’m so embarrassed.” She drops her face into her hands.
“You’re being crazy. He will understand. Just be honest with him. Tell him someone showed up unexpectedly and you had to deal with some things.”
“I didn’t deal with anything. My vigilante, Calamity-Jane-wannabe best friend did.”
“He doesn’t need to know that.”
“So you think I should go back out with him?”
“Do you like him?” She nods. “Do you think he’s a pretty nice guy?” She nods again. “Is he hot enough for all your Cajun heat?”
At that she giggles. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Then, yes, I think you should go back out with him. See where it goes anyway. No one ever got anywhere by playing it safe.”
“If that’s not your life motto, I don’t know what is.”
“As a matter of fact, it is.” I wink my un-madeup eye at her.
She scrunches up her face. “Gross. Turn around and finish your face. That one eye thing is freaking me out. You look like Marilyn Manson.”
I narrow my eyes and then make the un-madeup one as big as I can, turning so it looks like I’m giving her the cursed eye. “What did you say, infidel?”
“Stop it! You’re gonna give me nightmares.” Regina actually shivers, which, of course, also makes me giggle.
“You’re too easy.”
“That’s what he said,” she rejoins with a snort.
“Nice.” I hold my hand up above my head, palm facing her. She leans over and smacks it for a high five.
As I’m putting the finishing touches on my face, I see my little pig, Gumbo, the newest addition to my pet menagerie, pop into my field of vision. He meets my eyes in the mirror, gives me a hearty oink, and then trots over to my purse where it’s lying on the floor. Gumbo loves to root around in pretty much anything, so if it’s low enough for him to stick his snout in, he makes a beeline for it.
Just before he can successfully bury his nose in the center pocket, I leap up. “Gumbo, no!” I lunge for my purse, swiping it up to get it out of his reach. Gumbo glares up at me. If a pig could frown, I’d swear he was frowning at me. “I’m sorry, buddy, but there’s a dangerous thing in here. You can’t be nudging a stun gun. It’s liable to turn your hide into pork rinds.”
I take it out and set my bag back down for him to play with. He immediately dives in. I stand and watch him, smiling down at the cute little guy. He’s much less destructive if I keep him occupied. He’s very smart and very curious, so as long as I have things around for him to investigate, he’s a happy porker.
Much like me.
“What’s that?” Regina asks.
“It’s the stun gun Mrs. S. let me borrow. I tried to give it back to her, but she made me keep it until she can get me trained on a real gun.”
“What does it do?”
“I’ve never used one, but evidently, you push this button and press these two little metal things someone’s skin and—”
A jolt of electricity zings through me. I feel stiff as a board and tingly from head to toe.
The last thing I remember thinking is that I didn’t intend to actually hit the button.
PREORDER BOOK 3, LUCKY AND THE BANGED-UP BALLERINA, HERE
Thank you
I wanted to very quickly thank you for spending your valuable time with me. So much of my heart is in this story, in these characters and their lives, and I’m profoundly grateful to be able to share them with you. It’s one of my greatest desires in life to bring GOOD to this world. Light, joy, laughter, happiness. I hope you found one (or all) of those things in the pages of this book. If you did, I hope you’ll consider spreading the word about it. Tell a friend, leave a review, gift a copy to someone you know who needs a pick me up. All around us, at any given time, people are hurting, and I truly believe that laughter is great medicine. It would be such an incredible blessing if, together, we could bring joy to someone else, even if just for a few hours. Sometimes that can mean the difference between giving up and pressing on.
I want you to know that I deeply appreciate that you chose this book. It’s a dream come true to be able to do what I believe the Lord created me to do, and I’m indescribably honored to have you along for the ride:)
God bless!
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About the Author
I'm a writer, mostly of awesomely fun mysteries that no one should take too seriously. I imagine that I should say something deep and profound about myself or my life philosophy, but I'd much rather fling facts like cool ninja throwing stars.
FACT: I'm a devoted if slightly neurotic wife, an indefatigable lover of animals, and an absolute fanatic of all things funny.
FACT: I'm probably alarmingly similar to Lucky, minus the daredevil streak and the unbreakable parts.
FACT: I'm such a homebody that seeing me out in the wild is something like spotting Sasquatch, only with less hair and less fanfare.
FACT: I'm a nerd and a Southerner, and my preferred wardrobe consists of pants that stretch and a t-shirt with writing on it.
FACT: I love my job and I hope I get to do this forEVER.
FACT: I’m so grateful to you for reading my work:)
Also by Emmy Grace
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Lucky and the Falling Felon
Lucky and the Axed Accountant
Lucky and the Banged-up Ballerina
Lucky and the Crushed Clown
