Best Friend

GO here first:

Millicent Stingley rapped her peach-colored nails on the private plane’s arm rests. Craning her neck around the seat, she saw her friend, Pauley, stumble from the bathroom. The plane’s flight attendant was ignoring her so Millicent swallowed her anger, removed a twenty-dollar bill from the left cup of her bra, then displayed it to catch the woman’s attention. The petite redhead of about thirty-years-old rose and walked toward Millicent. She faked a grin, which infuriated Millicent more. She remembered the woman’s name was Cassandra.

“Cassie, can you be a dear and bring my friend and I two extra pillows, her a ginger ale with lime, some crackers, and me an whiskey sour, stiff, on the rocks.”

Cassandra snatched the twenty from Millicent and sighed like a teenaged girl as she passed by Pauley in the aisle. Pauley chuckled to herself as she squeezed past Millicent and retook her window seat after turning on the air fan above her.

“Making a new best friend, Millie?”

Millicent closed her eyes and tasted the bile in her throat. She exhaled from a deep breath and drawled.

“I only need one, Paulette. And you will do. So, how far along are you?”

Pauley frowned and knew her third trip to the plane’s bathroom since takeoff, flush cheeks and pale countenance made her look stupid for not talking more about her pregnancy news to Millicent.

“Not long, maybe 8 weeks, 9 at the most.”

Millicent leaned forward, grabbed the black ink pen and notepad in the seat pocket and jotted down information.

“When we get to Morocco, I’ll put together a remedy for the nausea, and a sleeping pill. Then we’ll go shopping for baby things. This child has to look good at all times in public.”

Pauley laughed and touched Millicent’s right arm. She knew arguing with her was pointless.

“I’ll be fine, Millie. I know you’re probably pissed I didn’t tell you right away. We had a lot to do in Brazil and I had to tell the father first. Oh and Lenore, I think. Shit, sorry about that.”

Millicent rolled her eyes and finished writing her materials list and formulas. Cassandra returned with Millicent’s order. Pauley shook her head and dropped her tray to hold the ginger ale and crackers. Millicent sipped her whiskey.

“Pauley, there’s a handwritten letter in your carry on bag. It’s for Arthur. Make sure he gets it. It’s the last time I’m making contact with him. I’ve got all the family I need in this plane. Also, I’ll have a list of proper baby names done before we land.”

Pauley smiled and felt her stomach settle.

The plane landed in Casablanca, Morocco several hours later. Millicent tracked down a cab while Pauley checked in with Stan by cell phone. Digging in her handbag for extra cash, Millicent felt a couple of the cyanide pills she’d created in Brazil. A wave of paranoia washed over her. Was this the last she’d see of her only true friend? Swallowing the off-white capsule was an option. She shook off the thought and paid the driver. Using the French Pauley had told her would work in Morocco, she cooed the instructions.

“Portez-nous à Alfirdaouss et utilisez l’itinéraire de centre-ville.”

Millicent was still staring at the pill when Pauley showed up.

“You okay, Auntie Millie?”

Millicent slid into the backseat of the cab.

“Yes, but that’s isn’t going to do. I like Aunt M, like James Bond’s boss, but cuter.”

Pauley laughed as the cab away from the airport into traffic.

The women reached their desired apartment district. As they shopped a nearby open market, Pauley saw a familiar cafe.

“Come on, let’s get some Moroccan blend!”

The sun beamed over their shoulders as Millicent prepared to pay for their cups. The cyanide pill from earlier dropped from her handbag as she removed money. Millicent handed the cash to the merchant.

“Merci, gardez le changement.”

Pauley sipped her coffee and glared at Millicent who stared at the cyanide. Without saying anything, Millicent took her three-inch heel and stomped the capsule until it was dust on the pavement. The women looked away from each other in silence. Millicent sidled up to her friend.

“Don’t worry, Paulette. When you need me, I’ll make more.”

The women turned and walked side by side into the Casablanca sun.


This is the season finale of mine and Tara aka @Tara_R ‘s Brazilian sequel to Dead Money, our serialized story about female killers Millicent and Pauley.

Please go see Tara’s chapter first at

Today’s song belongs to Weezer. They’re all about irony and weirdness, just like MIllicent and Pauley. Thank you for reading. Tara and I have so much fun writing these stories. Here’s Best Friend.

Machine Gun Blues

Go see this chapter first:

Vivian was dead. She knew it and all that was left was her funeral. Four people stood in the living room and she held a laugh at the inappropriate name of the space. Tomas finished twitching and his lips had turned blue. The cyanide was eating his nervous system. The other two henchman were comatose with bullets sealing their fate. The last moment of Vivian’s existence showed in the warm, shaking hand on her arm from her only friend, Pauley. Then Pauley let go to check on her boyfriend, Stan. Now, Vivian was gone to.

Vivian Alves arrived Sao Paulo, Brazil less than a year earlier without a chance to survive. Millicent Stingley always had enough money. Vivian Alves had enough to find a place to live and buy a small business out of foreclosure. Vivian overreached, took money from Tomas and his Sampas criminal organization, and the results of her failed second life were strewn about the house.

Pauley was emotional, more so than Millicent had ever seen her. Small tears formed inside her Pauley’s eyes as she thanked her for saving Stan and killing Tomas. Lenore followed Stan into the kitchen. Pauley and Millicent were several steps behind.

“Vivian, I don’t give you enough credit. But that was….”

Millicent cringed at Pauley’s weak moment, appreciated the admiration, and squeezed Pauley’s nervous hand.

“It’s what friends do, Paulette. Well, friends like us. And don’t call me Vivian anymore. I think you understand.”

Pauley tried to smile, but seemed too exhausted. She let go of Millicent and walked into the kitchen and sat next to Stan, grasping his left arm.

Millicent remained standing and wrestled control of the scene from Stan.

“I don’t need a lecture. I took care of the problem I created. All that remains is a fire, a big damn fire, to turn the Brazilian episode of my life into ash. Maybe I’ve been spending too much time around you gun people, but let me machine gun the rest of this job and take Lenore with me to America. You’ll love San Francisco, Lenore. “

Stan let out a giant sigh and crossed his arms. Pauley squeezed his shoulder and jumped into the conversation.

“Millicent, you can’t go back to the U.S. and you know that. But I think Stan has an idea for Lenore.”

Lenore turned her back to Millicent and leaned into the enterprising couple with the Northeastern accents that fascinated her. She’d dreamed of New York City as a child when her cousin mentioned moving there.

“Mister Stan, Miss Pauley, I can take care of your house.”

Stan let go of an uncomfortable smile and answered.

“I need something more than that Lenore. You are a hell of a shot, you follow direction and have nerves of steel. I think you could do more than clean up and cook.”

Lenore shook her head yes like an energized puppy. Millicent turned and walked toward the basement. She stepped over Tomas’ lifelessness and opened the door to walk downstairs. Next to the lawnmower was a five gallon can of gasoline and garden gloves. She slipped on the gloves and grabbed the gas. By the time she walked up the steps, Pauley was in the doorway shaking her head.

“Millicent is definitely back. Only she would be disgusted by a little gas on her hands.”

Millicent smiled and scooted past her friend. Lenore and Stan stayed in the kitchen going over details of Lenore’s new life. Millicent placed the gas can next to the couch, took off the gloves, and straightened her blouse and hair in a vanity.

“Tell me more your time in Morocco, Paulette. They don’t have an extradition treaty with the United States. But do they have good shopping?

*****blogger’s note****

These are two new chapters of the Brazilian Sequel to Dead Money, the series my friend and writing partner, Tara aka @Tara_R are writing. Go see her chapter first and hang out and read her amazing writing.

Here’s Social Distortion with Machine Gun Blues.

I’m Not An Angel

2 NEW CHAPTERS – read Tara’s first then mine:

Mrs. Cardoso picked up her sequined skirts and her Buraco card game partner Mrs. Fernandes bought fabric and a sundress. Vivian pretended to care about their small-talk while a sewing machine running in the backroom drowned out Lenore’s brutal work.

The two forty-five-year-old Brazilian trophy housewives waved goodbye. Vivian suppressed an eye-roll and returned the hand gesture. The front door closed with a thud. Vivian stepped into the back room to see Lenore removing the electrical cord that had tied Marco and Danela to the main sewing table. Vivian turned off the sewing machine to listen for customers. Danela was slumped in a chair with her head on the sewing table, sleeping like a teenager in a high school algebra class. Vivian winced at the sight of Danela.

“Damn it, I put too much sulfate in her dose. She was only supposed to be out for a few minutes.”

Lenore pulled the gun Stan had given her from her pantsuit front pocket and held the barrel inches from Marco’s head.

“It’s okay, Vivian. More I threaten Danela, more Marco talk. He’s going to write down the Sampas stash house directions and phone number to middleman.”

Vivian smiled. She thought about her second day in Brazil, meeting Lenore at the Peruze market as she tried to con a merchant out of a basket of fruit and a few dollars.

“Put the gun away, Lenore. We aren’t Pauley or Stan or Tomas. We have other means.”

Marco and Lenore stared at each other. Lenore lowered the weapon but didn’t reholster. She pointed to the notepad next to Danela’s lifeless, tan arms. He sat down in the second chair and snarled.

“jódale. Los Tomas le matan hembras.”

Lenore hit Marco with a sharp blow from the palm of her right hand. His head bounced off the table and his eyes rolled back. Lenore hissed in his ear.

“haga cuando le dicen o la próxima vez será una bala.”

Vivian smirked and stared at Marco. He looked away from the deep-set chocolate eyes lasered on him.

“Marco, the next time you call us bitches, she shoots you in your tiny balls. Now, if you and your girlie want to live past today, you’ll write, shut your scummy mouth, and do as you’re told. There are no angels in this room, Marco, not even sweet Danela.”

The tinny sound of the bell on the front door caused Vivian to stand up straight, smooth out the creases of her dress, and hit the on button of the sewing machine. She caught Lenore’s eye line and mouthed “don’t stop until you get everything.” Lenore nodded “yes”, and held the gun barrel to the back of Marco’s head as he wrote out the information. Danela started to stir in her chair. Her small hands danced into knotted electrical chord. Vivian grabbed syringe from her handbag a few feet away. She pushed the plunger so that some of the contents squirted to the floor. Then shot the remaining liquid into the right side of Danela’s bruised neck. Vivian removed the syringe and hid it inside her bra. She grabbed a shop towel off a nearby counter, knelt down and wiped the liquid she’d squirted. With poise, she returned the towel, turned and walked to the customer in front of the store.

*****blogger’s Note*****

Female killers Vivian and Pauley in Brazil, time, y’all. This is my chapter. Go read Tara aka @Tara_R’s chapter at her place, Thin Spiral Notebook.

Today’s song fits the story perfectly and it’s something Vivian would listen to, heck it may be her anthem. Here’s Halestorm with I’m Not An Angel.

Sweet Dreams

Earlier in the story, when Millicent/Vivian first met Stan.

Washing the same dish for the third time, disgust rolled through Vivian. She checked her phone for the ninth time since sending a text message to Pauley twenty minutes earlier. She knew her friend was with Stan, an attractive, sophisticated man who was showing Pauley attention. But Millicent Stingley’s negative characteristics traveled to Brazil and became Vivian Alves’. She couldn’t kill jealousy and pride. Lenore’s voice distracted her.

“Miss Vivian, I gave Danela the special tea you made. She’s napping in my room until our other guests come. Are you all right?

Vivian turned her phone over so she couldn’t see the screen and toweled the dish. She turned off the water and turned off the water.

“Yes, Lenore, I’m fine. Pauley and Stan are going to want to talk to Danela but I think we should discourage it. Don’t worry, I’ll handle that as well as making the same tea for them that I gave Danela. Prepare the yellow room for Pauley and Stan. They’re a couple, and will probably want to share it.”

Lenore looked at Vivian with a blank face. She raised her thin, dark eyebrows.

“Then, why are we giving them the same tea we gave Danela?”

Vivian wanted to shove a syringe full of the kumare she laced Danela’s tea into Lenore’s neck but instead she tossed the hand towel at her arm. It draped over the colorful tattoos that adorned Lenore’s right shoulder.

“It’s been a long day, Lenore. Everyone needs to sleep and attack the Sampas gang problem with fierce focus in the morning. Also, you and I need to hem some skirts I want to display in the store. I have to make money to maintain this glamourous lifestyle, my dear.”

Vivian’s sarcasm trailed off into the kitchen as she walked into the living room. Lenore’s laughter made Vivian smile until the front door opened.

“Hey Viv! You remember Stan. Where’s our Danela damsel in distress?”

Tall, fit, and well-groomed, Stan filled up the doorway to Vivian’s home. She hated his self-assuredness and the trajectory on his eyes, lasered on Pauley. Lenore appeared in the living room with a ray holding a teapot, two cups, and some biscuits. Vivian purred.

“Hello, Stanley. You look terrific. And you two arrived in a limo? How cozy. Sit down, you two we’ll go over what Danela told us while you were gone, Paulette. She’s asleep.”

Pauley shook her head, rolled her eyes then glanced upstairs.

“Asleep? We need to debrief her.”

Stan put down his bags as Lenore poured tea into cups and placed them on the oval cherry wood coffee table.

“It’s okay, Pauley. I’m sure everyone’s exhausted. I am too. Let’s visit a while then get settled in for the night.”

Pauley relaxed at the sound of his voice. Vivian cringed. Lenore walked over to Stan’s luggage.

“Miss Vivian, I’ll go get our guests’ room ready for the night.”

Pauley sat down on the couch while Stan scooted aside her and opened a file on his phone.

“Viv, we wanted to go over Tomas’ organization and how we think Artur and Marco can be gotten out.”

Vivian stared at the poor condition of her nails, pondered a trip to a salon, and eased into a chair adjacent to the happy couple.

“Drink some tea, please, I insist. Tomas and the Sampas are a tomorrow problem. Tell me about the two of you. Paulette, you know I’m fascinated.”

Pauley stared at her friend and picked a cup. She and Stan drank at the same time.

“Viv, this tea’s really good. But Stan, show her the file you have on Tomas.”

Pauley stifled a yawn and Stan rubbed his eyes as he handed his phone over to Vivian. Vivian smirked and whispered.

“Sweet dreams, you two.”

****blogger’s note****

This is my chapter of the two new ones posted today for mine and my writing partner Tara aka @Tara_R of Thin Spiral Notebook check out the small piece about this entry when Millicent now Vivian met Stan.

Today’s song is obvious. Vivian is Millicent is bad. She’s jealous of anyone else being friends with Pauley. Here’s Eurythmics’s Sweet Dreams.

Parallel Universe

Last time:

Pauley steered the rented sedan onto the driveway of Vivian’s house. The single-door garage was closed. Pauley kept the car in drive, her foot slipped on the brake, causing Vivian to jump in the passenger seat as she was trying to open her door.

“I thought you only used your gun, Paulette. Have you turned to vehicular homicide, now?”

Pauley ignored Vivian’s snark and looked to the backseat where Danela appeared scared and fragile. Pauley grumbled.

“Viv, I need the car in the garage. So, open it.”

Vivian rolled her eyes then searched for her keys in her handbag. Danela spoke over their shoulders.

“Abrirei a garagem, Vivian.”

After Danela left the car, Vivian turned to Pauley and snarled.

“The Sampas don’t know where I live. And if they did, they’d already be here by now. Lenore does more than take care of the house and cook meals. She’s my buffer. So, stop acting like you know everything. I screwed up with Danela, now, she’s mine. Just watch.”

The garage was open. Pauley took her foot off the brake and coasted inside. As her hand pushed the gear to park, she grabbed Vivian’s left arm before she could exit.

“Viv, if you don’t want my help, tell me now. Stan will be here in a few hours. But he and I can have a nice vacation, and let you run your game with the Sampas all by yourself. Just tell me where the morgue is so I can claim your body before I go back to the States.”

Vivian didn’t flinch. She stared out the windshield and saw Danela, shaking while looking at her phone.

“Oh, Pauley, I do melodrama so much better than you. My fashion sense has made you soft. I’ll take the blame for your lameness. Let’s build up our little wilting flower out there then we’ll head to the airport and get your boyfriend.”

Pauley turned off the engine and gripped the steering wheel.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

Vivian had gotten used to Pauley’s insolence toward personal matters. She stifled a laugh and opened her car door. She flipped down the sun visor and checked her makeup in the mirror.

“Okay, Paulette. But I think it’s time you accept that since you landed in Brazil, we’re living in a parallel universe. Just because Stanley is your co-worker in the states, doesn’t mean he can’t be your lover in Sao Paulo.”

Vivian pushed the visor into place and got out of the car. Pauley jumped out to meet her at the door as all three women started walking to the inside of the house.

“Viv, I’m going to the airport by myself. I need for you to protect Danela and have her get in touch with her boyfriend, this Marco.”

Danela dialed her cell phone and Vivian pointed her through the laundry room then turned to confront Pauley.

“Why are you going alone? I know Stanley, too. We could plan together. Danela’s eating out of my, I mean out hand already.”

Vivian leaned against a washing machine, cross-armed with her handbag dangling. Pauley was getting more irritated with her possessive friend.

“Again, I need you on Danela, Marco, and everything Sampas related. This will require a perfect, well-executed plan. Stan doesn’t need a Brazilian Carnivale and a load of Viv small talk. Now, I have to go pee, so can we go inside?”

Vivian didn’t respond but her scowl made Pauley uneasy. The women strolled through a foyer and met Danela and Lenore in the living room. Danela was crying while Lenore has a serious, concerned countenance. Vivian walked past them and tossed her handbag on the couch.

“Oh good God, ladies, Pauley and I are just game planning and girl talking. Everything’s going to be okay, at least tonight. Lenore, can we do spaghetti squash tonight? It’ll go great with the chicken.”

No one responded. Vivian turned and walked back to the middle of the living room. Pauley was sitting next to a whispering Danela.

“Vivian, the Sampas are on to Marco. She said he sounded like a hostage when she talked to him. I’m going to leave for the airport now, and do some reconnaissance along the way. This is going to get worse before it gets better.”

****blogger’s note***

This is part of 2 new chapters from my friend and writing partner, Tar Rah, aka @Tara_R from Thin Spiral Notebook. please go read hers NOW –

Today’s song kinda sorta fits lyrical, if you replace California with Sao Paulo. But the theme and title work well. Here’s Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Parallel Universe.

Rainbow In The Dark

Read this one first then dive into mine:

Vivian hummed a rock song while boxing up a scarf and blouse for a waiting customer. Pauley and Danela looked at her with incredulousness. She smirked and pointed to a green ribbon next to Danela’s right hand.

“What’s the matter with you two? We’re figuring this out. Sweet Danela, hand me that faixa and smile.”

She turned away like a pageant contestant, then announced.

“There’s two Sampas across the street. After I finish with Mrs. Correira, we’ll come up with a way to disguise Danela then hide her at my place. There’s some young mens attire on that rack next to refridgerator.”

Vivian sang “when I see lightning” as she walked back to her customer.

Pauley put away her phone and walked to the six-foot wire assembly and pulled off a pile of clothes and a baseball cap.

“Danela, is this what she’s like, normally, you know, when there’s no Sampas around and it’s just you two selling dresses?”

For the first time since Pauley had met her, Danela smiled. It was slight, almost impossible to catch. She pulled her dark hair from her smooth, tan face and answered.

“Si, it’s bizarre isn’t it? But I like her when she’s like this.”

Pauley shook her head and walked to the front of the shop while Danela changed. Vivian exchanged pleasantries with the sixty-year-old woman, Mrs. Correia, and said goodbye to her. She left through the front door, held open by a younger man. Tall, thin, brown-haired, about twenty-five-years-old; he approached the counter and fidgeted while answering Vivian’s portugese “como pode eu ajudá-lo”.

“Ele é o meu aniversário de casamento e quero a mas minha esposa um equipamento bonito. Como aquele ela está durando.”

He pointed to Pauley. Vivian smiled.

“He said he likes your clothes, Paulette and wants to buy them off your rockin’ body.”

Pauley scowled at both of them and walked into the storeroom whil Vivian laughed and showed the man a mannequin near the front store window.

Danela had changed into the cargo pants, futbol jersey and cap. Pauley crossed her arms and shook her head in approval.

“Yeah, I don’t like Viv like this. It’s annoying. I called for a rental car. It should be here soon. We’ll smuggle you out the back alley.”

Two minutes later, Vivian appeared in the storeroom.

“He’s coming back tomorrow to pick up the whole ensemble. I have to hem two pieces. Thanks for the sale, Pauley. Apparently his wife looks a lot like you. You just made a couple very happy for their anniversary.”

Pauley and Danela moved closer to the back door.

“Where are you two headed, without me?”

Pauley could hear the automobile’s engine as she opened the door. They turned back to Vivian.

“The rental is here. I’m going to sneak Danela back to your place, talk with Lenore, and formulate more of a plan once Stan gets to the Sao Paulo airport in about six hours.”

Vivian’s demeanor changed from ebullient to sullen. She was fearful of the Sampas watching the store but presented herself as angry so Pauley wouldn’t know.

“The hell you are, Paulette! Danela’s my responsibility, and so is Lenore. I’ll drive you two so you can shoot anyone that tries to follow. I’ve done enough business over the last 4 hours to close for the day. I’ll lock up and get my bag.”

Pauley looked at Danela and shrugged her shoulders. The alley was clear and she could see the front of the four-door sedan she ordered, waiting for them.

Vivian joined them and they met the driver, tipped him, and had Danela duck down in the floorboard of the back seat while they Vivian and Pauley sat in the front. Vivian shouted.

“Yes! It has a radio. This day just got a lot better.”

Pauley ignored her and scouted the streets as they pulled away.

“Stay down, Danela. I don’t see anyone but you never know if these other store owners are lookouts for the Sampas. Drive the regular speed, Viv. The last thing we need is a bought local cop screwing this whole thing up.”

Vivian touched the radio buttons until she found a classic rock station. She started singing, again.

“You’re a rainbow in the dark, just a rainbow in the dark”.

Pauley patted the gun on her hip and mumbled under her breath.

“I swear to God, I’ll shoot myself and her before this is all over.”

****blogger’s note****

These are two new chapters of the sequel to Dead Money, the sumemr blog series hit from Tara aka @Tara_R and I. Please visit her and get caught up on the story. This is some of the most fun I’ve had writing.

Today’s song is something I heard yesterday at the gym while getting inspired to write this. It fits the story and adds some levity to story about drugs and murder. Here’s the late great Ronnie James Dio, RIP sir, with Rainbow in the Dark.

In Every Direction

Read this first:

Pauley’s fingers fell from the trigger of her gun as she discovered Danela with her head resting on her knees, finishing a cry.

“Viv, I found her!”

The clicking of Pauley and Vivian’s heels on the pavement seemed to relax Danela and she rose.

“Please don’t shoot me. I’m so sorry Vivian. I was conf….”

Pauley lowered her weapon and reached her left hand, offering to comfort Danela then Vivian stepped in front of her and growled.

“You left my shop wide open for those scumbags and you lied to me. To me!”

Pauley turned toward Vivian, angry at her ill-timed rant and tried to push her away. Vivian pulled her friend’s hand down and continued.

“Tell me every damn thing, Danela. You have less than two minutes to remove Pauley and I from your enemies list.”

Pauley couldn’t tell if her fiend was trying to perform some good girl, bad girl routine or if she was just being an arrogant bitch because she could. Then Vivian winked at her, and she knew what to do. She holstered her pistol, walked around Vivian and placed her hands on Danela’s broad shoulders.

“Danela, we can help you, but you have to come over to us, all the way, and do what we need for you to do. Otherwise, we can’t protect your loved ones.”

Pauley was guessing, based on information Vivian has given out and the terror in Danela’s eyes and demeanor.  Vivian crossed her arms.

“Well, Danela, I went to my shop, Tomas and his Sampas goons were nowhere to be found. Did you give them what they were looking for, or was my ass what they came to collect?

Danela, moved away from Pauley, walking toward her boss. She pulled long, dark, strands of hair behind her ears and extended her hands, which shook like stray leaves. Vivian bit her top lip, uncrossed her arms and accepted Danela’s gesture, then mouthed the word “talk”.

“My brother Artur, he’s in prison for drugs. But he’s clean and wants to stay that way. My friend, you know Marco, you meet him two or so times, he, um, he keep up with my brother through fellow Sampas that are in the prison. Marco hates being Sampa, but he don’t know to get out….”

Tears rolled over Danela’s young, smooth face. Her whimper was so audible that Pauley began looking around the alley to see is anyone else was listening. Vivian looked at Pauley.

“Let’s take Sweet Danela back to the shop, go on with our day. Then tonight, we have her over for dinner. If she can’t convince Marco to join us, then we make him.”

Pauley shook her head in agreement as Vivian took Danela’s hand and walked her back to the dress shop. With so many moving parts in different directions, now, Pauley started to play out scenarios in her head. She kept her thigh holster unclipped, with her hand close to the trigger.

****blogger’s note****

After a one week break to spend time with our fams, Millicent aka Vivian and Pauley, the ladykillers, are back in our Brazlian Sequel. Check out Tara aka @Tara_R’s chapter, then try mine. Thanks for reading.

Today’s song fits the story and it’s very underrated. Here’s Junip’s In Every Direction.

It’s Time

Read this first please:


Vivian enjoyed watching her friend squirm. In her business dealings with Pauley’s old boss, Butch, she’d dealt with Stan and wondered if Pauley had found him as handsome as she did. She poured more tea and caught Lenore grinning at her naughty intentions.

“Come on, Paulette, Lenore’s known you less than two hours and she sees it your Stan crush too.”

The laugh between the Vivian and Lenore infuriated Pauley. She swallowed the angry words her tongue wanted to release and leaned against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed and eyebrows arched. Vivian kept at her.

“I know I’ve influenced you with your wardrobe, but, we’re all girlfriends here. Stan was why you cam back to America and stayed in the business you’re in, right?”

Pauley grit her teeth and walked out of the kitchen. She yelled over her shoulders as she strode down the hall.

“Lenore showed me where the bathrooms are around here! You two get this gossip out of your systems!”

Vivian retrieved her phone from her purse and dialed Danela’s number. As it rang, Lenore wiped the table in front of Vivian and smirked.

“me gustan ella, Vivian. No esté tal hembra a ella. Necesitamos su ayuda.”

The call went to voicemail and Vivian acted out a message in Emglish, knowing Danela was probably gone from their store or talking to Tomas and the Sampas.

“Sweet Danela, it’s me. Call me back as soon as possible, it’s important. I’ll be at the store later than I thought. Bye.”

Leaning over Lenore’s left shoulder she whispered.

“Relax, you. Pauley and I are bulletproof and I have the antidote to any poison that comes from my mouth”

Lenore smiled and finished cleaning. Vivian announced to the hallway.

“Pauley’s meet me in the basement! We can finish our Sampas conversation there!”

Then she turned to Lenore and instructed.

“Wait five minutes, then come downstairs. Take off your apron and your sombrecamisa. She needs to see your markings.”

As Pauley returned from the bathroom, Lenore positioned herself in the kitchen’s entrance and did as Vivian had asked. Pauley saw the tattoos on Lenore’s left arm and recalled the pictures Stan had sent over her phone, earlier.

Lenore stared at Pauley and walked past her with deliberate slowness.

Pauley muttered in disbelief.

“Tatuajes de ganga. Holy shit, Lenore was a Sampa.”

*****blogger’s note******

This a new chapter to mine and my friend and writing partner, tara aka @tara_R ‘s Brazilian seuqel to Dead Money, a fiction series about female killers Millicent aka Vivian and Pauley. You can find Tara’s chapter, which you should read first, here:

Today’s song fits the story. It’s from earlier this year. Imagine Dragons’ It’s Time:


Read this first!:

Vivian walked a few feet away from Pauley in the alley. She took out her phone, dialed her housekeeper, Lenore, and cursed herself.

“Damn it Millicent! You know you can’t just have a little dress shop in Sao Paulo. You’re so fucking stupid!”

She composed herself and played her part for Lenore.

“Olá Lenore, Eu estou chegando em casa cedo. O meu amigo da América e gostaria de recuperar. Ver-te em breve. Bye bye.”

Pauley walked over and tried to lean in for another hug when Vivian straightened her posture and said in a cold, measured tone.

“There’s a taxi across the street. Let’s get out of here. Danela doesn’t know where I live. I didn’t make that mistake.”

The women walked to the taxi, filed into the back seat and Vivian attempted another call but lost service. She threw the phone into the seat. The little black case came apart and Pauley picked it up and had it reassembled.

“You’re back to being Millicent and that’s okay. You know, my mom, um, well, Gail, and I tried going by other names in Morocco. I just couldn’t get used to it. It’s the reason I think I came back.”

The revelation combined with Pauley’s gentle pat on her right arm calmed Millicent.

“I screwed up Pauley. I just screwed everything up. I really thought I could be someone else here, in this city, thousands of miles from the United States.”

Pauley pulled her hand away and moved against the car door so her entire body faced her embarrassed friend.

“Millicent, you’re whoever you want to be. You’re Vivian Alves, a dress shop owner in Brazil because you have to be and damn it, because you want to be. So what, you let your guard down. You trusted some scumbags. From now on, you have to be more careful. Take the good parts of Millicent, that tough bitch with razor wire instincts, and mold them into this froofie whatever you are, Vivian. You made me like the clothes, so get over it, alright!”

Millicent smiled and closed her eyes. The smell of upholstery cleaner and cigars made her want the fresh jasmine tea she knew Lenore would have ready when they arrived, even more. She opened her eyes and smiled. Vivian was who she would have to be, but with much less carelessness. She shouted at the driver.

” Parar no jardim do lado esquerdo!”

Pauley looked out the window and saw a large, well-kept garden, with no villa in site.

“Viv, what are we doing?”

The car came to a stop. Vivian took cash from he handbag and paid the man in the front seat. She opened her door, turned around and leaned into Pauley and whispered.

“I’ve never used this taxi service. Sampas like Tomas pay these guys for information. We’re walking the rest of the way. “

*****blogger’s note****

This is a new chapter in my blog series with my friend and writing partner, Tara aka @Tara_R of Read her chapter first then this one. It’s our female Killers, Millicent/Vivian and Pauley, the Barzilian Sequel.

Today’s song fits the story very well and it’s something Millicent aka Vivian would listen to on her iPod a lot. Here’s Paramore with Careful.

Fake It

Read Tara’s Chapter first:

Vivian was four inches taller that the 5’3″ Danela and at least forty pounds heavier. She used her size to block her young assistant’s view of Pauley’s snooping. Vivian loosened the top button of the green and blue hued shirt and smirked at Danela’s attempt at an innocent smile.

“Essa blusa me lembra de um que comprei para você usar quando você conheceu Emile, o primeiro tempo.”

Damela stopped moving the mannequin toward Vivian and looked away. Her dark eyes grew small. Vivian knew Emile was a sore subject. The blouse they were hanging was almost idnetical to what Danela wiore on their first date. He had been a close friend of Danela’s brother, Carlo, who was now in a Brazilian jail for drug trafficking.  Danela dated Emile for three months when he was arrested at a party for drug possession. Vivian draped the blouse over the beige dummy then extended her right hand. Danela accepted it.

“My Danela, I’m sorry. But I need to know if you’ve spoken to you brother or Emile recently. I think you know that some of their, well, let’s call them acquaintances, paid me a visit earlier.”

Danela took two pins from her hair and started fitting the skirt to the mannequin. After a few nervous seconds, she stopped and touched her boss’ hand. Tears bubbled in her deep, brown pupils.

“I not to talk either Carlo or Emile in over month. Those men, the Sampas, they not, don’t know Carlo or Emile, okay? Please believe me, Vivian. I love working here.”

Vivian could feel Pauley staring at them. She didn’t even have to tell her friend what was going on. Tomas and his men were using Danela in some way and that was enough.  Vivian thought about making her a special cinnamon tea and making her mind relaxed forever but this was Sao Paulo Brazil, not Atlanta or New York. She’d deal with Danela in a different way. Faking it from here on out would be her only issue.

She squeezed her small hands and winked.

“Keep dressing the window, my sweet Danela, I’m going to go check on my friend.”

Vivian waited for her to turn away and concentrate on the storefront window. She walked toward the back of the shop, shaking her head in an angry, slow left to right motion toward a scowling Pauley. Before Pauley could tell her what she’s found, Vivian leaned into her blonde friend’s right ear and hissed.

“Those scumbags are pinching Danela because her brother and ex-boyfriend are locked away on drug charges. I say we kill them slow.”

Pauley smiled and pushed her friend further into the storeroom.

“Didn’t I say you do what you do and you let me do the heavy lifting , Viv?”

Vivian seethed. She crossed her arms and struggled to whisper.

“Sao Paulo is just like Atlanta and so much like New York. Danela’s brother is just a poor loser but I’m sure Emile was set up.”

Pauley handed the notepad to Vivian, that Danela had scribbled something in Portugese.

“Viv, translate this. I don’t think Danela is as much of a victim as you think.”

Vivian pushed the creases of her dress down. She looked at the stainless steel table and was disappointed in her hair. She picked at several long strands then took a deep breath. As she exhaled she grabbed the note pad from Pauley. Her face became ashen.

“Well, Paulette, let me take care of her. I’ll enjoy it more than you will.”

****blogger’s note****

After a Thanksgiving break, Millicent/Vivian and Pauley, the Brazlian Sequel, is back with two new chapters. Tara and I are having a blast writing these for you all. Please visit her blog first to read her chapter.

Today’s song fits the story more than it being a terrific tune. It’s something Millicent/Vivian would listen to as well. She digs Seether.