Unlike the every day super hero, Shero battles more than evil villains. Shero battles broken heels, runs in his stockings, broken nails, and the scorn of the public at large. In this first installment Shero finds the perfect black dress, a possible lover, a deadly shade of fingernail polish, some nasty, nasty foes, an internal super hero political war, and a narrator full of attitude.
Shero on Smashwords
Shero is not your ordinary super hero, that is unless you consider a cross dressing super hero a part of the norm. But unlike the every day super hero, Shero battles more than evil villains. Shero battles broken heels, runs in his stockings, broken nails, and the scorn of the public at large. In this first installment Shero finds the perfect black dress, a possible lover, a deadly shade of fingernail polish, some nasty, nasty foes, an internal super hero political war, and a narrator full of attitude. Caution: Shero is part Sex in the City, X-Men, and Priscilla Queen of the Desert. You may find yourself yelling "You go girl!" which could certainly lead to public humiliation. You've been warned.
A swift, blue bolt of lightening crackled past Shero as he gracefully swept his right leg across the plain that intersected Melts face. It connected and Shero was able to maneuver his body out of the way of the electricity.
"Hey now, watch your aim big boy. You rip a whole in this new dress and there'll be hell to pay!" Shero yelled unaware that melt was charging up another round of hell fire.
"Shero, look out!" Lightening Rod screamed at the top of his lung.
Just in time Shero glanced Melts way, saw the heat-wave coming, and ducked to the side. He could feel the heat like a too-long stay in a tanning bed. Shero was instantly covered in sweat.
"You're lucky this dress is sleeveless you whore!" Shero ran at Melt full speed (No one would have ever guessed a man in three inch heels could burn pavement), balled his OPI-polished nails into a fist, and connected.
The sound was like a chubby kid sitting on a box of Cap'n Crunch.
In the blink of an eyelash Shero had his katana out. Silver and chrome was flashing like a smile on a toothpaste model. He held his blade perpendicular to the ground, pointing directly at Melt. Melt, in return, was boiling up another ball of molten goo. The third point in the triad, Lighten Rod, was arching his namesake from palm to palm.
In a silent, motionless moment testosterone levels blew the roof. Each man was staring at the other. Two on one and the one was sure he could take out the two. And before he could say Manolo Blahnik, Shero's katana sliced through the thick air toward Melt. As the sword neared the abdomen of the VILE agent, to Shero's astonishment, it melted away. In a wash of liquid metal, Shero was unarmed.
Seeing his partner in possible trouble Lightening Rod seized the opportunity to blast out with enough voltage to light up SOHO. The bolt tore through the space between Shero and Melt and ripped a whole through a billboard cheer-leading the US President's energy policy.
The irony was lost in the heat of the battle.