Are you a fan of action fantasy? Do you love feisty kickass heroines seeking redemption? In Joe Canzano newest Suzy Spitfire adventure, Suzy Spitfire and the Snake Eyes of Venus, you’ll go off planet as Suzy seeks to redeem herself and ends up helping others.
This light science fiction fantasy has snark, plenty of action, and a heroine you’ll want to root for. Grab an iced coffee, read chapter one, and enter the giveaway before ordering your copy!
When outlaw Suzy Spitfire flies to Venus in search of a vicious serial killer, she’s looking for the road to redemption—but instead, she quickly becomes involved in a gang war, a revolution, and a desperate attempt to protect a young girl from a violent fate. Join Suzy Spitfire and her friends for another wild ride through the solar system!
** This is the second Suzy Spitfire novel but works as a standalone.
Suzy Spitfire ran a slender finger through her coppery hair and tried to smile. With a little luck, she looked like all the other peaceful pedestrians strolling through downtown Atlanta. It was a hot summer night, and the hover-cars roared by, and it would be nice to blend in with the waves of smiley people on the busy sidewalks—but no, they all seemed so distant. They’re all part of a big pretty picture, she thought, and I’m part of something else. Of course, none of them were wanted fugitives throughout the Nine Nations of Earth, not to mention the rest of the solar system. None of them were being followed by an ugly guy with bad intentions.
Suzy squinted at the carnival scene on the street but kept smiling. She sauntered past a few touristy bars, and a pounding dance club, and a writhing three-dimensional advertisement for cosmetic body sculpting. The light from every window was blasting her in the face like a firing squad. Her skin felt fried and her eyeballs ached.
I’ve got no regrets, she thought—but it would be nice to have fewer people chasing me, or at least someone more attractive.
She glanced at a reflection in a flashing window. Yeah, the ugly dude was still back there.
Then she saw the slick showroom of an air taxi service offering fast rides to Daytona Beach. For one second, her smile became real as she recalled her sister, walking on a different beach so long ago. She used to follow me, too, Suzy thought. But her intentions had been sweet.
Her mind filled with a picture of two little girls. Trish was four years younger, giggling as she followed Suzy around in the surf with a pail and shovel. She was looking for seashells and building a sand castle, and crying as it collapsed beneath a diabolical wave. Suzy was laughing as usual, telling Trish it was no big deal, they could build another one tomorrow so don’t worry about it. But Trish was always worried. It was just her nature. Even in old photos, at the age of three, she had a worried look on her face—like she knew what was coming.
But I didn’t know, Suzy thought. And now Trish was gone, and she was on the run—and she was going to shoot this fucker who was following her. Because that’s my nature.
She dropped her hand down near the Series 7 pulse pistol strapped to her thigh, right under her jet-black skirt. Was she proud of her nature? Not always. And was this guy a cop or something worse? And did it matter? A cop would be part of a team, harder to evade. A cop would also have to follow certain procedures, at least out here on an open street. A bounty hunter, on the other hand, would be more inclined to do something desperate and stupid.
And this guy looked stupid, based on the conspicuous trench coat he was wearing in the sultry summer heat. But an opponent with a small brain isn’t always a good thing. A dumb guy will often take a big risk, something crazy and unpredictable. Sometimes the dumb ones are the most dangerous.
She had a quick vision where she just whirled and shot him in the face. She paused and gave a grim sigh. I’m not that dumb anymore, she thought. And sometimes it’s a shame. Being smart is no fun at all.
It was too bad this had to happen now; she had somewhere to go. It was a hopeful place, too—maybe. A place where someone like her might get a new start. But this guy was screwing everything up. She swore softly to herself and took a deep breath, cooling her rage a bit. The last thing she needed was to end up surrounded by bloody body parts—again.
She stopped in front of a Mexican restaurant called El Sol and glanced sideways down the expanse of Peachtree Street. The smell of spicy rice and burritos wafted into her nostrils, just like it had back in her hometown of Diego Tijuana, where other people sometimes tried to kill her. Meanwhile, the guy had also stopped. He was looking at his allcom, maybe just staring at a blank screen, or maybe actually communicating with somebody. All right, it was time to make her move.
Then her own allcom rang. Damn! Only two people on the planet had this number, so it was either Danielle calling to cancel their meeting—or it was Ricardo, probably telling her to not go in the first place.
She silenced the ringer. It had been Ricardo. Well, maybe he’d been right. Maybe she should’ve stayed back at the house. But there was nothing there for her, only him and his criminal friends—and she was tired of that scene. Was she tired of him, too? No, not really. He was a good guy, exactly her type, and she loved the way he sexed up her space ship. But sometimes a girl has to cut her losses, even if she’s cutting away something wild and sexy and thrilling and—hey, where was she going with this? And was that potential assassin still back there?
She resumed walking down the sidewalk, quicker this time, but not too quick. Yeah, the guy was still following her. The pedestrians were thinning out as she kept heading south, past the grassy plot of Patriot Park and the three monolith-sized black buildings looming behind them. There were no storefronts or shops down here, just noisy hover-cars racing by, and shiny office buildings that looked like they were made from ice, and a few spurting fountains—but wait. Here was an outdoor lounge between two office towers, complete with benches and a few trees and a statue of a guy on a horse. And it looked deserted.
She made a quick turn into the shadowy lounge. Then she took ten more steps and spun around, pulling her pistol and aiming it back toward the street—and then a shot rang out.
What the hell? An energy blast exploded against the nearby building, sending a cloud of dust against her cheek. Then two more shots boomed out as Suzy dove to the ground and returned fire.
She cursed and pumped three rounds into the darkness. So her tail had a partner. Where was he? Luckily, he was a lousy shot, and he kept splattering energy bullets across the wall above Suzy’s head. She saw the flashes from the gun—the sneaky bastard was behind the statue. She snarled and ramped up the power on her pistol, well beyond the stun setting. She leaped to her feet and started blasting.
The monument was a horse standing on its haunches, and the shots echoed like thunder, and with a splintering sound the statue came crashing down. She heard a scream as it hit the ground. She crouched down and darted forward.
There he was, sprawled on the pavement with his lower body crushed under the fallen stone horse. His gun was a few centimeters from his hand, and he was reaching for it—just as the other guy stormed into the lounge with his rifle up and ready.
Suzy gave a shout and kicked the fallen guy’s gun into the darkness. She whirled and fired at the other guy, hitting him in the face. His head exploded. Right, damn, the gun had still been set for maximum power. Well, that’s what you get for rushing me. A siren started to sound.
Suzy got down low and shoved her weapon against the trapped guy’s ear.
“Hey,” she said. “It looks like somebody’s getting put out to pasture. But first, let me ask you a question: Who the hell are you?”
He was a white guy with pockmarked skin, shaggy brown hair, and small, frightened eyes. She noticed a tattoo on the back of his hand—the head of an angry-looking snake.
“Don’t kill me!” he said. “I was firing stun shots! I’m a bounty hunter, and we wanted you alive.”
“How did you find me?”
The whooping sirens were getting closer.
“Lenny had a tip from one of your amigos. He was supposed to get a piece.”
“Is Lenny the guy I just killed?”
Then he gasped, and he died.
Suzy shook her head and ran off into the night.
She didn’t have time for this stuff. She was busy searching for something better.
© 2019 Suzy Spitfire and the Snake Eyes of Venus, Joe Canzano