Tick, tock, tick tock — the clock is about to strike and Shero is about to be unleashed onto the reading public. Why is that so important? Shero is chic-lit, with a twist (a BIG twist) of gender-bending, super hero hilarity. The full-blown novel will hit the shelves this month, so I thought it apropos to smack you upside your pretty little face with a sample. So here, in his little black dress, is Shero kicking ass in the opening scene.
A swift, blue bolt of lightening crackled past Shero as he gracefully swept his right leg across the plain that intersected Melt’s face. It connected and Shero was able to maneuver his body out of the way of the electricity.
“Hey now, watch your aim big boy. You rip a whole in this new dress and there’ll be hell to pay!” Shero yelled, unaware that melt was charging up another round of hell-fire.
“Shero, look out!” Lightening Rod screamed at the top of his lung.
Just in time Shero glanced Melts way, saw the heat-wave coming, and ducked to the side. He could feel the heat like a too-long stay in a tanning bed. Shero was instantly covered in sweat.
“You’re lucky this dress is sleeveless you whore!” Shero ran at Melt full speed (No one would have ever guessed a man in three inch heels could burn pavement), balled his OPI-polished nails into a fist, and connected.
The sound was like a chubby kid sitting on a box of Cap’n Crunch.
In the blink of an eyelash Shero had his katana out. Silver and chrome flashed like a smile on a toothpaste model. He held his blade perpendicular to the ground, pointed directly at Melt. Melt, in return, was boiling up another ball of molten goo. The third point in the triad, Lighten Rod, was arching his namesake from palm to palm.
In a silent, motionless moment, testosterone levels blew the roof. Each man was staring at the other. Two on one and the one was sure he could take out the two.
Before he could say ‘Manolo Blahnik’, Shero’s katana sliced through the thick air toward Melt. As the sword neared the abdomen of the VILE agent, to Shero’s astonishment, it melted away. In a wash of liquid metal, Shero was unarmed.
Seeing his partner in possible trouble, Lightening Rod seized the opportunity to blast out with enough voltage to light up SOHO. The bolt tore through the space between Shero and Melt and ripped a whole through a billboard cheer-leading the US President’s energy policy.
The irony was lost in the heat of the battle.
Being so close, and without his sword, Shero could feel the pressure mounting to strike quickly. It was time to unleash the Crouching Geisha. It was a move he had been working on for weeks in the sim-rooms. He dropped to a crouch with his right leg sticking straight out to the side and his finger tips keeping him from tumbling forward. He sprung up, with what seemed like no effort, in the same position. As he began to return to the ground he altered his trajectory so he would be within striking distance of Melt’s back. Once in range his right leg bent and the heel of his Jimmy Choo connected with Melt’s back.
Unfortunately Shero was unaware of the full body-armor covering Melt’s torso. The heel of his right shoe broke off and landed with a light, wooden ‘tink’ on the ground. Shero landed as gracefully as he could with one broken shoe. He stood and stared at his battle-wounded shoe. A nasty silence overcame the isolated war.
He pulled off his shoe and grimaced. “You son of a bitch! These heels cost me nearly three hundred dollars!” Shero’s voice was Kathleen Turner husky.
“Oh is queer-boy gonna throw us a sissy fit?” Melt was holding a guffaw back.
Shero stared at Melt, the sides of his jaw pumping in and out. Lightening Rod had seen this look before. It wasn’t good. Had the two members of SSH not been instructed to take down Melt, Lightening Rod might have told Melt to run as fast and as far as he could. But no. Hearing Melt mock Shero was probably the best thing that could happen at the moment.
Mock on you narrow-minded man. Mock on.
Shero didn’t say a word. He just stood, staring at Melt. Time seemed to tick a little slower.
And then, within the span of a heartbeat, Shero catapulted himself to the back side of melt and was landing blow after blow into his kidney’s and spine. Melt tried to spin around but Shero clamped an arm around his neck to restrain him – cutting off his air supply in the process.
Melt held up his arms and a brilliant glow began to form. Shero knew this meant more than frizzy hair for the next week. To avoid the volcanic facial, Shero kicked his legs into the air (while still grasping Melts neck) and forced Melt, face first, into the ground.
“How do you like my sissy fit now?” Shero punctuated his question with a knee into the back.
As Melt went down he managed to pull in just enough air to speak. “SSH will soon crumble under the vengeful hand of VILE!” His voice was raspy and strained. But as soon as the last syllable was uttered Melt was rendered unconscious.