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304 pages, Paperback
First published January 7, 2011
“I was told you fancied yourself as some type of comedian.”
“Who? Me? Nah. I’m just a sarcastic cynical prick. If that’s your idea of comedy, well, then I’m your man.”
Hell hath no fury like a professional assassin named Talya.
Talya slumped back. “Just would be nice.”
“What?”
She smiled. “Having kids with you.”
“Sure, we could have our family fun time. Sniper hour, close-quarter pillow fights, nighttime recon, we’d be the hallmark of a family utopia.”
The girl started screaming. The guy scrambled away. Both of them started shouting at the top of their lungs. Now I had a soundtrack as I worked.
The locals in Noda-shi get a kick out of all the foreigners that come to this sleepy little town. Before they found out the last true ninja was living a few doors down the only source of excitement was the Kikkoman soy sauce company located nearby.
I couldn’t recall the last time soy sauce got me excited.
She smirked. “You��re a slut.”
I grabbed my chest. “I prefer the term ‘manho.’”
“Took you long enough.” She smiled. “I had to wait in line and then I got propositioned three times.”
“What?”
She patted my thigh. “Relax, lover. They weren’t guys.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And you turned them down?”
I grabbed the rail.There's a nominal plot and a romantic interest, but the book seems to have been written largely to serve as a place setting for the author's love of martial arts and the Japanese culture and includes little else of interest. There's a market for that, I suppose, but that market isn't me. I could barely grit my teeth enough at the writing style to be able to flip through the pages 9 through 288.
A shot rang out.
Slanged off the railing near my hand.
I lost my hold.
Fell. [p. 126, no ISBN, advance uncorrected proofs]