The First Ever - Never Seen Before - Excerpt of Paradise By the Rifle Sights!

And now, because you've all been such good little girls and boys, a sneak preview:

"Paris Bombay!" Alec the announcer shouted. I flinched inwardly. The rose they gave me still had thorns and I was sweating like a fat guy in a sauna in this tux under these stage lights.

"The time has come!" He continued. "Who are you going to chose? Cin, or Teri?" I felt a clock ticking inside my head and it made me think of the bombs my cousin Dak and I used to make as kids. How did I get into this mess? I never wanted to star on
The Single Bachelor: Bachelor No More - Ever. Great. Cin and Teri are looking at me thinking I'm about to make a decision. How do I tell them I can't?

It all started two months ago. And it was all my sister, Liv's, fault.

**********

"I just finished a job!" I said to her.

"Well I can't do it! Alta has the state science fair and Woody is trying out for the Olympic Archery team! It's the finals!" Liv folded her arms over her chest and pouted. She actually pouted. And that's when I knew I was screwed.

"We're not supposed to do each other's assignments." I whined, even though I could feel myself giving in a little. And when I say "assignments," I mean contract killing...just to make that clear. I'm an assassin. So is my sister, my dad, my cousins and my grandmother. Well, actually, Grandma Mary is retired.

Liv threw her hands in the air - a gesture of futility she knew would work on her little brother.

"It's bad enough I can't do both of the kids' things! Todd and I have to split up to go! And I won't pick whether your adorable niece or nephew feels abandoned on their big day! I just won't do it!"

I sighed the sigh of capitulation. And Liv knew it. I have to give her credit for not gloating. I would've.

"Okay, fine." I walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of chardonnay. "I'll do it." After uncorking the bottle, I handed my sister the first glass. Liv threw her arms around me and kissed my cheek. I saw that coming. It was what she did every time she needed me to cover for her. I could write a script on these situations. She always won and I always lost.

After she left (with a small, in-your-face victory dance), I opened another bottle and opened the envelope.

Chuck VanSpeybroek was a big time television producer who ran a human trafficking ring on the side. The problem? Chuck was a hermit. No one had taken a picture of him in twenty years. He didn't go to parties or awards ceremonies. Rumor had it he liked to spend all his time "playing" with his victims. Oh yeah, and he also threw money at television. He'd produced some real winners in the past; Orgy Island, Nuns in Vegas, and Scared Straight (which featured gay men being forced to live in trailers and buy their clothes at Goodwill - and lasted only two episodes due to a network boycott led by Lady Gaga).

I never watched reality tv. But something about Orgy Island made me think I should catch up.

I'd heard about Nuns in Vegas. It was the only show he'd done that didn't live up to its premise. Of course, it was a huge hit as a result. Chuck thought he had a "fish out of water" story here. Bring in ten nuns from Iowa - from an order that lived as humbly as a medievil peasant with leprosy - and plant them in a suite at the Bellagio - giving them each one million dollars to spend by the end of the season. Chuck was sure that these little, old ladies in habits would try to spend it all on charity.

What he didn't figure on, was that the Sisters of Perpetual Poverty were hardcore gamblers and professional alcoholics. They embarrassed a bevy of slutty Playboy Bunnies and made a Gangsta Rapper cry on the first episode, then poured money into male escorts and the roulette wheel on the other shows. The ratings were ridiculous. The nuns were excommunicated. And Chuck was an even richer bastard than before.

The problem would be getting to him. Chuck never left his compound except for auditions for his next show. Even then, he was in a private room, behind two-way mirrors, surrounded by bodyguards. I wondered how Liv thought she could handle that. But then, she's a soccer mom, so she's pretty good at multitasking.

But this was no longer her concern. It was mine. By now the house was dark. When did night fall? I flipped on the lights and turned off the Sinatra playlist on my iPod. Fumbling through the fridge I managed to find some brie and mango salsa. I added a Harvey Wallbanger to my dinner and headed into the living room.

I wasn't surprised to find that Netflix had all of Chuck's shows in their video streaming library. I went to the first episode of Orgy Island and hit "play."

I had no idea you could film such things and air them on prime time.


So, what do you think?
The Assassin