Sunday, September 12, 2010

Spies Like Us: An Agent Z. Rant

Agent Z

You know, I’m a tough kind of gal. I have to be, you see, in my line of work. Protecting the little people from big bad aliens, intergalactic conglomerates, and evil overlords is what I do. Now, I may not be a soldier or a princess or (rolls eyes at Heather) a space pirate, but us intergalactic spies do a dangerous and thankless job.


OK, so maybe I sleep around a bit, have a potty mouth, dress trashy and drink too much, but so what? No one’s perfect. I’ve been told I have a hard heart of gold hiding behind this steel-reinforced, but still sexy, corset. I got nice teeth. I can giggle girlishly when I need to. All it would take is the right man to kill my other suitors, make me quiver, make me laugh, and get me the hell out of this corset.

Hell, I’d settle for a romance novel about any intergalactic spy. It doesn’t have to be me (but it sure better not be that beyotch Agent DD. I hate her) It would be a heck of a novel, engorged with sex and violence and lots and lots of sneaking around doing derring-do type of things in a variety of exotic settings (just don’t make me go back to Gor.).

C’mon, science fiction romance writers. Take me on! I’m more than willing to have my rough edges filed off (as long as they’re still there when I need ‘em.) Don’t we all need a heroine we can believe in? Believe me - I’m your gal!

So what are you waiting for? Git writing! Here - I’ll even give you the opening:

Agent Z. stretched luxuriously, before kicking Han Solo out of her bed.

“You’d better get back to that bossy little wife of yours before she finds out you’re missing.”

Han fell to his knees in front of her.

“No, Z. Please! Don’t send me away!”

“Fix me a drink before you go, Solo. And don’t make me shoot you...again.”

Be seeing ya!

Agent Z.