Click on link!

Why “Just Deserts: An Assassin’s Tale” will have you craving more!

(Graphic excerpts are included. For adult viewing only, please!)

Romance is a timeless topic! What is more romantic than those first few encounters with someone who makes your heart pound irregularly? Romance is one of the many themes weaving its way through the pages of “Just Deserts: An Assassin’s Tale”. Women will swoon over the parade of muscle waiting within these pages!

Meet Nash – the sexy sword dealer who attempts to capture Miranda’s heart:

Besides, I meant what I said about him working out or something. I ran my eyes over the muscles in his arms and moved on to his wide chest after that. He watched me intently as my golden-browns sparkled with appreciation.

Then his blues searched my golden-browns. I saw something in his eyes that drew me closer to him. Something that made me want him. It had been a long time since I’d been with a man. I was usually far too busy killing them! 

He must have been emitting some sort of testosterone cologne that even my loins responded to. He was still sitting on the edge of the bed when I stepped between his legs and ran my hands over the chest I’d been appreciating from a few feet back. I ran my lips across his neck and whispered in his ear, “How much do I owe you?” 

“I’ll let you know tomorrow morning,” he said, practically dragging me over him and onto the bed.

“It’s a deal,” I agreed, succumbing to his possessive kisses.

He couldn’t get us out of our clothes fast enough! It was like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. Soon I was gasping for breath under his aggressive lips and my hands were exploring his muscular, wide chest.

Then he pushed into me and my breath fled like I’d been punched in the belly! He was attentive enough to wait for me to adjust to his size before his hips began to move rhythmically, causing me to clutch at his biceps. It wasn’t long before my back was arching from the pleasure-pain. My first orgasm hit me like a bolt of lightning, electrifying my whole body!

Nash’s hips changed pace, and I rode the waves of pleasure as he brought me again, finally giving in to his own pleasure. But something about the look on his face told me that he was no where near finished! I braced myself before his next plunge, reveling in the feel of him as he filled me slowly.

I knew then that focusing solely on killing men all this time had been foolish. Oh so foolish!

If the women don’t drool over Nash, perhaps they will take a liking to Lincoln – Nash’s green-eyed competition:

She re-entered the room with my partner-to-be. He was about six-foot-one and extremely toned. And very handsome! His dark hair ended at the collar and it was stylishly combed – or not combed. I would have to say that it was combed upward, causing his hair to spike, but not like a punk’s outrageous style. It was a sexy, mussed look. His skin was tan. His eyes were green and the color popped out at me against his too-tight, black tee. I say too-tight because I could see the outline of a nipple ring through the material. Also sexy!

Whoa! I get to work with this guy? I thought. Did I mention he was handsome?

He strolled into the room behind Jay, dragging his cowboy boots across the carpet. This kept getting better and better. Cowboy boots! Very sexy! For once I might be the one to hit on someone instead of always being the one hit on!

He stopped in front of me and eyed me blatantly. “You the maid?” he asked sarcastically. 

He knew damn well who I was! I was sure that Jay had told him before bringing him in here to meet with me! I rose to the bait, “Excuse me?”

“You can’t be the assassin,” he said, pointing at me incredulously.

“Why can’t I be? You see a f**king feather duster in my hand?”

“You’re Miranda?”

“Yes, she is,” Jay responded for me. She knew my answer wouldn’t have been so simple or so nice.

“Interesting,” he commented. “I’m Lincoln.” He stuck out his hand and expected me to shake it.

I knocked it out of the way and punched him in the gut. 

He hunched over, grabbing his stomach. When he looked up at me, it was with a new respect. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” he admitted, rising back up to his full height. “It’s just…when I see a beautiful woman…”

“What? You think…maid?” I interrupted him from talking around the foot in his mouth.

“No! You just don’t look like the type that could hurt anyone. Look, I’m sorry. Friends?” he requested with his hand out once more.

“Fine by me,” I forced myself to say. I shook his freakin’ hand. Then I turned my attention back to Jay. She didn’t appear to be too impressed with our getting-along skills.

And later:

“Wanna’ join me?” Lincoln asked flirtatiously.

Actually, joining Lincoln sounded good. Not because of the things he was telling me in an effort to win me, but because it had been a long day – and it would be the perfect time for me to lay down one of Miranda’s Laws!

“Stand up,” I demanded. I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t naked before I got into that tub with him.

He did. 

Good God! It was one of those tight, spandex swimsuits that didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination! In fact, I could see the outline of his manhood, and he was looking like a picture from an issue of Wow Magazine! That’s not a real magazine. Not that I know of, anyway. It’s a visual compilation of all the sexy flesh I’ve seen over the years, which is stored in my head.

I was frozen in place for at least a minute. The embarrassing part is that he knew I was impressed! When I finally realized I was staring, I stammered, “S…s…sit down!”

“Not unless you agree to join me, Curly Cute,” he countered stubbornly.

“I plan to!” I hissed at him, begging my legs to move. “Just sit down!” When he did, I finally turned away and told him, “Give me a minute to change.”

“Need any help?” he called after me.

“No, Lincoln, I certainly do not!” I said icily. My temper flared and I stomped out of the room.

Men will swiftly fall for Miranda, the witty and adorable protagonist in this novel. She represents independence, adventure, sensuality, strength, attitude, mystery, and so much more.

Here is a spicy moment between Miranda and Nash:

Now that Lincoln was gone, Nash was singing a whole different tune! I let the water run and ignored him. I picked up my bikini top and started to unbutton the shirt Nash had given me to wear. 

“Are you listening to me, Miranda?” Nash pondered aloud.

“I thought you wanted to make out?” I dropped the shirt. Then I made a big deal of looking pensively at the bikini top in my hand. I pretended to change my mind and let it fall to the floor instead of putting it on to cover my freckled breasts.

“I really have to go, Shorty,” Nash assured me hurriedly. “As much as I’d love to stay…” He stopped talking when I turned my back on him and bent over to push my bottoms down. I stepped out of them. Then up and into the tub I went!

I spun around, letting him have a frontal view before I sat down in the hot, bubbling water. “You were saying?”

“I was saying,” he said, pulling off his shoes, “that I can’t stay long.” He was grinning now. “I have appointments and obligations,” he finished, while pulling off his jeans. He stripped off his last layer and joined me in the tub. 

And for all you ladies wondering, yes Lincoln is impressive, but Nash is impressive too, if you catch my drift!

When he sat down, he pulled me in front of him so my back was against his already slippery chest. His hands came out of the soapy water and found my breasts. He kneaded them gently while I wiggled my bottom up against him. I leaned my head up and to the side so he could lean down and kiss me. He did.

Then he grabbed me around the hips and lifted me, slowly lowering me onto him. He moved sensuously, taking his time with me. Each thrust made my passion climb, and soon I was gripping the sides of the tub as Nash exploded inside of me, bringing me. 

            Miranda couldn’t survive in a world of assassin’s without an attitude:

I parked the rental in the circular driveway and knocked on the front door. The door flew open and a bundle of nerves stood there in the entrance. He was five-foot-ten and about forty years old. He had jet-black hair with some gray coming in, which made his coiffure bare a close resemblance to a spotted skunk! 

            He kept glancing over his shoulder as if a T-Rex was going to come bursting into the room behind him at any minute, scoop him up, and swallow him down in one gulp. He was wearing a navy-blue, silk jogging suit with some sort of athletic shoe that I couldn’t see because his pants fell to the floor. 

How the f**k could he jog with wide-leg pants covering his sneakers? I could totally picture him tripping over the damn cuffs and not only falling on his face but pulling his f**king pants off in the process!

He looked sweaty and I was curious about how he’d gotten that way. Had he just finished a jog or was he that nervous around Fiona? Or was it meeting me that had his temperature on the rise?

            “Mr. Finnegan? I’m Miranda.” I stuck out my hand to be polite.

            My mood didn’t last long, though, because he said, “You’re a lot smaller than I thought you’d be.” 

            “Your hair makes you look like you’re wearing a spotted skunk on your head,” I informed him angrily – thoroughly annoyed by his rude size comment.

            His hand shot up to his hair to smooth it, almost as though he could see if what I said was true with the help of his fingertips. “Yes, well…won’t you come in?”

That was Miranda being nice!

“Oowww,” I said after someone elbowed me in the ribs and didn’t bother to apologize. “Hey, watch out, asshole!” I yelled at my clumsy assailant. 

He turned around and slurred, “What are you going to do about it, sugar? Spank me?”

Why did everyone in the damn world seem to think I was into S & M? With snake-like speed, I gave him a free demonstration of my tiger’s mouth strike, hitting him in the throat. With this strike, you make an L with your hand, pressing the four fingers together. Your thumb stands alone and you hit them with what’s in between. If you strike with enough power, you could conceivably crush their windpipe. I put just enough power in it to make my point.

“Back the f**k off!” I warned him, after grinding my smoke into the nearest ashtray. He did back off, grabbing his throat and gasping for breath. He glanced back at me as though my hair had just turned into serpents. Yep! It had, buddy! And one of them just bit you on the f**king neck! So skedaddle!

            Romance and attitude aside, Miranda has work to do. She is an assassin for a secret society, first and foremost. It is a society dedicated to eliminating some of the most intolerable criminals in the world.

I know I’m not the only one who has seen reports about rapists, child molesters, and murderers on TV. We’ve read the articles, and we’ve seen coverage of their trials. Maybe you know someone who has been touched by one of these unscrupulous thugs. Maybe this topic will reach closer to home than you’d prefer….

I guess we all know that we can’t go around hiring assassins like Miranda to execute justice. We have a court system in place.

However, how many of you secretly wish that you could send Miranda an email and put her to work? This novel gives readers that sense of justice – minus the actual crime, and minus the guilt. It is literary justice at its finest:

He was naked before me and the laughter came from my throat this time! His eyes reflected anger and he was trying to curse at me through the tape.

I retrieved my kendo sword from beneath the couch and tapped it on the floor to get his attention. I saw his eyes run the length of my bamboo toy and then they darted back to me. Confusion was toiling in his wide pupils.

No, still not the mood I was aiming for!

I used my weapon like a flyswatter, swatting downward with a quick strike. I slapped him across his withered penis, again and again. I poked at his equipment, making sure it bulged within reach, above his restricted thighs.

After each crack of the bamboo sword, he would try to curl into a ball but I would kick his legs back into place so he’d be on his back again. I slapped him across the throat twice and then I headed back down south. 

I put the bamboo sword in my left hand so I could swing outward and hear it swoosh through the air. Each whack caught him under the balls with a sharp crack. He would yell out each time. I knew I was getting much closer to the response I was trying to elicit from this child-molesting freak!

I crossed over to where I’d left my fanny pack on the coffee table. He was swinging his legs now as though he was a merman out of water. I walked back toward his head, easily avoiding his slow attempts to sweep my legs out from under me.

I showed him what I had in my hand. It was the little girl’s spread-eagle picture, which I’d taken from the bottom drawer of his bureau. The same little girl he had ruined for life and left to live out a scared, paranoid existence. 

Aahh! Now that was the look I was shooting for!

Fear clouded Tony’s eyes for the first time, as he looked back and forth from the picture to my face.

More Just Deserts:

I pulled away from him and lit a cigarette. I was going to need all the help I could get to calm my nerves. I wished I had a Fuzzy Navel! Not only did I detest the idea of Diego touching me but I also have an irrational fear of the ocean. 

Call me crazy but I just don’t care to be attacked and killed by a shark. Of course, the odds are against it but I prefer to be the hunter and not the hunted! Scientists say that attacks on humans are usually due to certain conditions or mistaken identity but I know for a fact that shit happens! Maybe those f**king hungry-ass sharks just like to try something different every once in a while! Or maybe they like to remind humans where human territory ends. One of Miranda’s Laws, after all, is to avoid being torn to shreds by serrated teeth! Clause two of that Law states that I should avoid ending up in the belly of one of those fishy beasts of death at all costs!

We arrived at the local beach front, where we both got out of the Explorer. We meandered toward the ocean, making small talk as we shuffled through the cool sand. I could hear the surf ahead of us even though I couldn’t see it. It was dark, and it really seemed like we were the only two idiots out there! 

He fondled my breasts on the way to the waterfront. When we stood about six feet from the edge of the tide, he undressed. When he was naked, he rubbed himself, beckoning to me with the hardening freakin’ thing between his legs!

I stripped down to my bikini and felt the seat of the bottoms to make sure my Bowie knife was nestled just right. I didn’t need Diego to spot it before I could use it!

He took me by the hand and led me to the water. On the way, he pinched one of my nipples hard and I jumped from the sudden, unexpected contact. His hand snaked around my wrist and his grip tightened cruelly. “Come on, sugar! I thought we were going to f**k?”

“Do you have to be so rough?” I asked him.

“That’s the way I like it. Compared to how I usually am, this is gentle,” he claimed, tugging on my arm.

He had my left wrist in his hand, but my right hand was still free. I decided to go for it. “I bet it is…because you were a lot rougher with Michelle and Joanna Forrester last year, weren’t you?”

“What?” he asked, stupefied by my question.

“The sisters you raped last year?” I prodded his memory.

I saw the light go on – he hadn’t known their names!

“I’ve never raped anybody! Who the f**k do you think you are?” he asked, tightening his grasp on my wrist and trying to tug me closer to him to gain control.

I pulled out my Bowie knife faster-than-fast, and then I stabbed him skillfully in the stomach. “I am the judge…” I pushed the knife in further. “…and the jury.” I put as much torque on the knife as possible, burying it farther into his gut. When he grabbed my wrist with his free hand, he actually helped twist the blade even more. “And I have found you, Diego Santiago, guilty of rape.”

I pulled my wrists away quickly, effectively breaking his grip on them. Then I used both hands to smash his hands, which were laced over the knife. My double strike effectively drove the blade into his flesh as far as it would go.

I ran back to shore to where I’d left my jacket. I pulled out my digital camera, focused, and snapped off a shot just before Diego fell back into the water. I saw him bob to the top, and then I got closer to see if I could get some more shots.

After that, I went back to my jacket and put it on. It was f**king chilly! I sat on the beach, took out a smoke and lit it. I inhaled while watching the waves play with Diego’s fresh, water-logged carcass. Another mission accomplished. 

            “Just Deserts: An Assassin’s Tale” is a romantic adventure novel, written with passion and courage. The characters are vivid; they leap to life on the page. Though Miranda is a killer and her actions are depicted in detail, she is a killer most readers will secretly applaud!

**There are no graphic descriptions of rape in this novel.

Copyright 2008 – Sheila Roy

"Just Deserts..." excerpts Copyright 2005 & 2008 by Sheila Roy