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Out of the frying pan, into the line of fire . . .

What happens when a food writer (Agnes Crandall, author of the Cranky Agnes column, syndicated in most minor newspapers) meets a hit man (Shane, just Shane, syndicated by a major government agency which disavows all knowledge of him, anything about him, they've never heard of him, Shane Who?) the week she's trying to throw the wedding of Maria Fortunato, a mob princess, and Palmer Rehnquist, an old money Southern gentleman/golf course designer, hampered by the bride's grandmother (the real-steel faux-magnolia, Baby Fortunato Dupres), Agnes's ex-fiance (the more hair than brains celebrity chef Troy Paradou), Shane's uncle (transplanted Chicago mobster now diner owner Joey the Gent Torcelli), the local homicide detective (that Southern Columbo, Detective Simon Xavier), and a host of neighbors, relatives, florists, and hitmen?

The heat’s not just in the kitchen . . .

Agnes gets shot at, Shane shoots back, and mayhem, romance, comedy, and flamingos ensue.   Publishers Weekly thinks Agnes and the Hitman would “make screenwriters of goofball date movies proud,” Kirkus says that it’s “laugh-out-loud funny,”  and the Smart Bitches website calls it a “can’t-wait-to-find-out-what’s-next” read.  

Will Agnes and Shane defeat the bad guys and find true love?

Oh, please.  It’s a Crusie-Mayer.  Nothing but good times ahead.