Assassins Anonymous

**Scroll down for a sneak peek preview of Flirting With Secrets...**

Flirting With Death: Assassins Anonymous, Step One is the story of Kayla McKenna, a former CIA assassin who finds herself burned from the agency and trying to live in a world she has completely lost touch with. I hope you enjoy it!

Description:

Is there a twelve-step program for recovering assassins? 

Kayla McKenna knows what it feels like to kill another human being—and she likes it. After her father was murdered by terrorists, she was consumed by the need for revenge. But landing her dream job as a CIA assassin turns out to be merely a stepping stone to retribution. One botched mission earns Kayla a burn notice, a bullet hole and a one-way ticket back to suburbia. Stuck on her childhood stomping grounds with a meddling, shopping-addicted mother intent on grandkids, three overprotective cop brothers, a sexy criminal who can’t decide whether he wants to kill her or date her, and a new boyfriend even her family loves, Kayla may finally get the chance to find out what really matters in life. That is if living a normal life doesn’t kill her first. 

Sample the first two chapters at Amazon.com by clicking here. Happy Reading!

**UPDATE**

It's here!!! It's finally, FINALLY here!! Flirting With Murder is hot off the (digital, virtual, cyber?) presses. 

Description:

Kayla really is trying to be a good girl in Flirting With Murder, but between her chaotic love life, rogue assassins on her tail, crazy psychics and a family with more secrets than the Pentagon, it's HARD!!! So, she may occasionally fall of the wagon on her road to recovery, but what a ride. And really, do we want her to be an angel? Where's the fun in that? Her karma may have a few things to say about it, but for now being bad is just a little too irresistible. 

Want a taste? Read the first two chapters at Amazon, borrow it for free through the Kindle Owner's Lending Library with Prime ...or, just buy it ;-)

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Step Three Update

3/22/13

Flirting With Secrets is almost done. Two more chapters and off to the editor. Woohoo! As usually happens, much has changed through this journey... including Chapter 1. I think the below teaser is much closer to what will end up in the final book... let me know what you think!

Flirting With Secrets

“We dance round in a ring and suppose, but the secret sits in the middle and knows.”

-Robert Frost 

Chapter 1

Loose ends.

The words bounced around relentlessly inside my throbbing skull. The pain was worse than a Slurpee brain freeze and only slightly better than an exploding aneurism. And through it all I was contemplating loose ends. Why was the phrase so frigging important?

Ugh, who cared? I hadn’t felt this brutalized since waking up in a hospital with few memories and a hole in my chest. What the hell was going on?

I tried to open my eyes, confused and disoriented when they revealed nothing but more blackness. Oh, God! Was I blind? My hands flailed at my sides, trying to discern my surroundings by touch. I was in a bed – that much was for certain. A pretty comfortable one, too. So I was definitely not in a hospital – or a coffin, which had been my second thought and the cause of a minor panic attack.

I felt something warm and soft beside me and felt a thrill of anticipation, temporarily overriding my distress.

Dmitri?

Further exploration determined the body next to mine was not that of the sexy Greek arms dealer I’d hoped it would be. That is, unless he’d shrunk to half his size and grown boobs since abandoning me. Tying up loose ends… that’s why the words were running through my brain. Dmitri’s cryptic note had been our last communication in… months. I didn’t even know if I should be concerned or angry. There was no “normal” for an ex-assassin who falls for a semi-reformed criminal.

On second thought, normal didn’t matter. Over three months without even a text? He was damn lucky he wasn’t beside me right now or else he’d be in for an unwelcome awakening of the getting-the-shit-beaten-out-of-him variety. Schmuck.

“Claire?” Even the soft, questioning whisper made the brittle synapses firing pain missives revolt. I needed drugs. Or a machete to cut my head off with.

I gave the body beside me another shake when I received no response. “Claire? What’s going on?”

The sheets rustled as the body stirred. “Are you up, honey?”

Even stranger. That sound a bit like… “Mom?”

What was my mother doing in bed with me? I tried to pull my thoughts together, to remember the events leading up to what was either an on-going brain hemorrhage or the mother of all hangovers. Hmmm. My last memory was of a going away party…

Okay, now the hangover was making more sense. I didn’t remember my mother being in attendance though.

Mom’s gentle fingers touched my forehead. “How’s the head?”

“Still attached. Unfortunately.”

I heard her feet hit the floor and a muttered, “Damn them.”

“Can you get me some aspirin? Or find Claire? I can’t think straight.” I didn’t like using Claire as my personal fixer of all ailments, but this was an emergency. And if I remembered correctly, she’d poured at least seven of the tequila shots I’d downed. The woman owed me.

She returned a moment later with a couple tablets and a cool glass of water. Now that my eyes had adjusted I realized I wasn’t blind, just in a room equipped with blackout shades. A room that was alarmingly similar to the master bedroom in my home. And I say “alarmingly” because my last memories were of karaoke and cocktails in the administration lounge at The Program’s underground compound.

In Nevada.

A five-hour car ride away.

No matter what else was wrong with me, I was missing time. Again.

I swallowed my mother’s magical elixir and let my head sink back into the pillows. “How did I get here? I am home, right?”

The mattress gave slightly as she sat beside me. “Yes, you’re finally home.”

Her response was cloaked in innuendo but I didn’t have the opportunity to ask anything else as sleep claimed me once again.

***

I awakened for a second time, feeling a thousand times better than I had before. Whatever my mother had given me was working miracles. My brain still felt slightly bruised, but at least I could gather my thoughts. I padded into the hallway, opening my eyes in increments to adjust to the intrusive light. “Mom?”

The back door was open and I could hear the puppies out in the yard.

“I’m out here,” she called.

I snagged a pair of sunglasses from the kitchen counter before joining her on the patio. “What did you give me?”

“Do you feel better?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because I gave you a couple sedatives I had on hand after your grandfather’s knee surgery last year and I wasn’t completely sure they would get the job done.”

“Mom!”

“Hey, I knew you wouldn’t approve, but they worked, didn’t they? Besides, I couldn’t exactly take you to a doctor and ask for a prescription.”

“So you gave me expired medication for a hangover? Why didn’t you just get Claire?”

“Claire is… away.”

She was being evasive, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with it this time. No more secrets. “What does that mean? Did something happen to her? Is she still in Nevada? Just tell me.”

“Claire is with her family.”

“Getting things ready for the move?” How long had I been asleep? I knew Claire, Mona and Jake were making plans for a permanent move to the Valley, but something was off.

“I don’t know if that is still on the Hightower’s agenda. Things have… changed.”

“Will you please stop being cryptic and lay it out for me? What in the hell is going on?”

“I told you nothing good could come from any of this.”

“Duly noted. I get it. Now, what matriarchal ‘I told you so’ wisdom has come to fruition?”

“First, what do you remember?”

I couldn’t hold back the exasperated sigh that erupted. “About what? My life? Claire? Where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing?”

“Your last memory before waking up in your own bed.”

Okay, I’d play.

I thought back over the past several months to get the details straight, even if only in my own mind. My time underground had multiplied threefold. Getting The Program to a place where I felt comfortable leaving it in somebody else’s hands hadn’t been as swift a process as I would have liked, but I really hadn’t had anything to come home to anyway so I hadn’t balked when thirty days turned into fourteen weeks. I’d been in way over my head and had not wanted to fail when people’s lives were hanging in the balance.

Kayla the idealist. Whatever.

Unfortunately, my hope of shutting down The Program in its entirety hadn’t materialized. As much as I hated to admit it, there were “recruits’ housed in the compound that really shouldn’t ever see the light of day. I’d done what I could for those with a chance at integrating into society and felt confident my permanent replacement was well-equipped to handle things going forward. Yeah, I was a control freak, but I didn’t know how to do something half-assed. In the end, my extended servitude had been worth it. I could finally say I was through with all the woo-woo crap. My hands were as clean as they were going to get and maybe karma would be a bit kinder in the future.

Insofar as I could tell, my stint as a do-gooder was working in my favor. Even surrounded by psychics, my own gift had failed to reappear. And I was glad. Even knowing the things that existed, having experienced it first hand, I didn’t want that craziness in my everyday life. After ninety-six days of submersion I’d have a hard enough time keeping the things I’d seen confined to my nightmares. I certainly didn’t need my own bullshit confusing the situation.

My final night had been refreshingly cathartic. I felt I was walking away with the chance to start over in a sense. No more spies or assassins or psychic prisoner’s on my conscience. No more constantly looking over my shoulder. I had zero ideas for what I was going to do with my life going forward, but I was truly leaving my past where it belonged – in the rearview mirror.

I remembered the beginning of the evening clearly. “I was at a going away party. My going away party, to be exact. A surprise bon voyage put together by the new administrator as a thank you for what we’d accomplished. Claire was there, even though her brief stint as my psychic-healing sidekick was long over.”

As I’d suspected, using her abilities on the masses had been more than her body could handle. She’d spent more time recovering than helping and finally I’d begged Jack to let her out of the contract we’d signed. She’d been pissed. Jack had been resigned. I’d just been relieved to have one less patient on my hands.

“And then what?”

What did she want, a blow-by-blow recounting? “There was drinking, singing, back-patting and everything else you’d expect – including the hangover. I’m assuming I passed out, though how I got home is beyond me.” I never imbibed like I had that night. Not only was it ingrained in me not to lose control, but I really hated throwing up. So, why had I tossed caution to the proverbial wind? If I was being honest with myself I would admit the excessive drinking had been the direct result of my need to forget about returning to an empty house.

An empty life.

Dammit, Dmitri! Where the hell did you go?

I watched the yorkies chase each other around the small yard and smiled. I wished I could laugh at their antics – I’d heard laughter was good for the soul and a headache.

“What night was your party?”

My antennae went up. “Saturday. Why? What day is it?”

She raised one eyebrow. “Tuesday.”

“Okay, now you really need to fill me in on what’s going on.”

Mom placed her palms down on the wrought iron table and leaned forward. “I can only guess, based on past experience and current circumstances, but I believe you’ve been subjected to a mindswipe.”

“Like, erased memories?” I shook my head in denial. “That doesn’t make sense. I remember everything. Well, everything up until late Saturday night.”

“Yes, you do, which is extremely interesting – and a tad concerning. But your current circumstances are not the only ones I’m referring to. While you remember, Claire doesn’t.”

“What doesn’t Claire remember?”

“She doesn’t remember you. She doesn’t remember The Program. It’s all just… gone.” She made an exploding motion with her hands. “Poof. Erased.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I scoffed. I didn’t question if it was possible. I knew it was. Not only were there drugs that could be used to accomplish the task, but there were people who could do it just as effectively. I stood and went to retrieve my cell.

Mom followed me inside. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for my phone, I need to call Claire.” Another thought struck. “I need to call Jack.”

“Please don’t do that.” Her voice was soft and pleading. A more effective approach than if she had shouted.

“Why?”

“Just this once, can you let sleeping dog lie? I’m begging you.”

It was the moisture rimming her big blue eyes that stopped me from immediately disobeying. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

“I suppose it’s time.” She waved me into the living room and gestured toward the sofa. When I was seated she began to pace. “I wish you were less like me,” she began.

“How’s that?”

“Less likely to push an issue. More willing to accept what someone tells you at face value instead of digging until the air is so full of dust and debris you can no longer see what’s right in front of you.”

I made a rude snorting sound. “I wish I could be more like that, too.”

“But you’re not.”

“No…” Where was she going with this?

“When I was your age, a little younger actually, I was offered a position within The Agency that was too juicy to pass up. We didn’t have a formal name for it at the time, but it would become what you know as The Program.” She paused, waiting for my reaction. I was too stunned to give her one. “I was itching to get out in the field, having been assigned a cubicle up until that point, and didn’t question the assignment. I was a scientist. This was my big chance. We were in new, unchartered territory and all I could think about was making a name for myself.

“Of course, as the years went by I realized our efforts were more insidious than I had fathomed. There was no protocol to follow and little oversight. There’s not much I’m proud of from that time other than getting out. But before I was able to do so, I’d worked my way up to the top spot.”

“Are you telling me you were the original program administrator?”

“I am.”

“This is insane.” I jumped out of my seat, the motion sending my head into spasms. I held onto it even while I lost my temper. “Why do I feel as if my entire life has been nothing more than a cheap echo of yours? Did you set this up? Did you actively help them to recruit me? Guide my progression through the ranks until you had me sitting behind the same fucking desk you did all those years ago? Jesus! My mother – the creator of the freak factory. I’m so very proud.”

“Stop it! I had nothing to do with any of those things, in any way. My only crime where you’re concerned is not putting a stop to it before…”

I turned on her, feeling a rage so deep I was afraid I might physically harm her. “Before what? Before I signed up? Before I started KILLING people? Before I was shot? Before I found myself insisting on taking your job?”

She took my fisted hands in hers. “I know. I should have stepped in. I should have warned you. But I was ashamed, Kayla. I couldn’t bear to have you know the kind of person I’d been. The things I’d done. And I feared revealing any of it, even to you, would be my downfall. I’d worked so hard to put it all behind me.”

My rage evaporated with a sudden revelation – as much as I wanted to blame her for my mistakes, I couldn’t. I didn’t know that things would have turned out any different even if I had known the whole truth. I’d wanted this life. It was time I owned it. “How did you do it?”

My calm voice must have surprised her because it took her a moment to realize we weren’t fighting anymore. “How did I do what?”

“How did you get away? If I’ve learned anything from my own experiences it’s that the CIA doesn’t let its agents come and go at will. Especially those who work on the fringes.”

“I didn’t give them much choice. I disappeared – with a little help from a friend. It was easier back then. Technology as we know it was in its infancy. Trails were still made of paper and paper was easily misplaced, misfiled or lost completely.”

“You alluded to someone the night you shot Charles.” The night I’d learned everything I’d believed to be true about my family was not as it seemed. “Is that who you’re talking about?”

“Yes, at least he’s the only one who’s still around after all these years.”

“And he’s still helping you?”

“No.” The terse response told me all I needed to know.

“Is he blackmailing you?”

“Not currently, but he’s not above using the information he has to manipulate me.”

I didn’t want to know if my mother had sold me out to keep her secrets. If she had, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to forgive her and there simply weren’t enough people in my life who cared about me to lose one over a mistake. “Is he why you don’t want me to call Jack? Because if it is, you don’t have to worry. Jack’s on our side. I’m positive he doesn’t have any idea about this mindswipe, or whatever it was they did.”

“Maybe. Or maybe not. Either way, if you contact him he’s going to make an inquiry and you’ll find yourself right back in the eye of the storm. As it stands, you get to walk away relatively unscathed.”

“Unscathed? They tried to erase my memories.”

“Yes,” she mused. “I wonder why it didn’t work.”

“That’s easy. If they were using the psychic shit, well, I completely fried myself. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. Even Claire can’t read me.”

“The incident at the airport?”

“You guessed it.” A few months before, I had used my ability to basically drive the CIA director insane. It hadn’t been intentional. I’d meant for him to kill himself – that sounded bad, but he’d deserved far worse. Unfortunately, or luckily – depending how you looked at it – something had gone wrong, and my brief brush with otherworldly power had gone bye-bye.

“I’d wondered what the consequences were after Claire healed you.”

My family knew too many of my secrets as it was, and since I didn’t feel like opening up yet another vein, especially one that was now irrelevant, I quickly brushed the questions her eyes were transmitting aside. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever had been there is gone now.”

Mom gave a terse nod. “I can’t say I’m not relieved.”

“You and me both. But you bring up an interesting point – if they were so concerned about their secret getting out, why didn’t they bring you in to wipe your brain, too. And Mona.”

“The only answer I can come up with is they don’t realize we know anything.”

“Exactly. See? Jack can be trusted. He knows about you.”

“I’m not doubting the integrity of the promises he made to you. I’m simply saying nothing good can come from seeking further answers. They don’t matter.”

“But you say Claire doesn’t remember me. How can that not matter? She’s my only friend.”

“Then make new ones.”

My head snapped back at her brusque tone. “That’s a little cold, don’t you think?”

“Maybe, but no one ever promised warm and fuzzy. Please, don’t poke the nest. It’s better for all of us if you just move on.”

Wise words?

Possibly.

But sometimes the occupants of those hives have a mind of their own.

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I can't wait to hear what you think!!!

As Always, Happy Reading!

~Heidi