What is it like to be suddenly rich beyond your wildest dreams? What is it like to discover how deeply your hatred of rapist is? What is it like to become a government assassin to fill that hatred? Discover the dangers of being rich as you follow birth and growth of Mamba through these discoveries.
Paula Fisher is a strikingly beautiful dark haired woman with a deep hatred of all men. Alone in the jungle of darkest Africa she is attacked by a rich Baron. Killing her attacker, Paula suddenly finds herself rich beyond her wildest dreams. She discovers that her hatred of men has changed when she falls in love. Paula assumes a new persona to match her new hatred. As Mamba she sets out on a quest to kill all the rich rapist she can. With the help of her new found love and a killer for hire she begins her quest only to find confusion and despair as she fights for her life and fortune.
Paula Fisher finished her meager meal of rice with a spattering of some kind of meat that she had neither idea of its origin nor any real desire to know. The meat, heavily laden with seasoning was edible only if she pretended it was something other than what she suspected it was. One of her workers, Manswana, who also doubled as the camps cook, had brought it in to her only moments ago. The meat was stringy and tough, but it did add some taste to what otherwise would have been just a bowl of rice. She often suspected that the meat was rat meat and had been tempted on several occasions to ask, but not knowing for sure made it that much easier to eat. If she knew, then she could not have eaten it at all. Rats were the one of the many animals that seemed to thrive in the wild around her camp. They were everywhere, often she would hear them scurrying around her tent at night while she tried to sleep on her cot. One of the assigned tasks her hired labors had was collecting them for her lab. She used them both as food for her pets and as test animals for the anti-venom she was developing. Alone in her tent Paula leaned back in the canvas chair. The chairs as well as the tents were by now well worn. Jungle mold had eaten holes in several spots on the tent and Manswana had patched them as best he could. Her chair had a gaping hole in the seat almost six inches across forcing her to sit lightly down for fear that one day the fabric would tear through completely. She picked up her wine glass and sipped the dark rich fluid. At least there was one good thing about her visitor today. His name was Baron Eric Von Kessler and he had for the last year provided her with the money to further her research. He had also brought a full case of wine with him and she swirled the liquid around in the glass savoring the aroma while giving a silent thanks for that little luxury. Paula was not a wine buff, but she was sure that it was not a cheap wine. The Baron never bought anything cheap, of that she was certain. A gift for her he had said as he pulled it out of the back of his jeep. Something civilized in what he termed a disgusting hellhole in the middle of darkest Africa. Paula considered him a pompous German ass and often pictured him with a big fluffy drooping moustache; wearing one of those old World War One German helmets with the spike on top, bedecked in a gaudy uniform covered with a chest full of medals. After his behavior today, at another time she would have told him to get the hell out of her camp, but he had also brought a deposit receipt for another hundred thousand for her research. Something she desperately needed to continue her work in her field. Perhaps now she could purchase some more cages and have Manswana and his men catch a few more monkeys for test animals. She felt she was ready now to move on to testing her anti-venom on humans, but needed to check on the legality with the government of the Congo. Until then, she would continue testing it on monkeys. She thought of the Baron again. Perhaps he could find out. The Baron was in fact a very handsome man. Clean-shaven and blond with deep blue eyes. His hair was starting to thin a bit and if it hadn’t been for Just for Men, Paula thought that his hair would be tinged with gray. At six foot two he still had the trim build of a man half his age. He was in fact fifty-eight years old and by his own bragging words, one of the richest men in East Germany. Paula had met him over a year ago while she herself was touring Europe. Her date for that night had been invited to a lavish party being thrown by a rich Baron. Somewhat intrigued, Paula had accompanied him and had been introduced to the Baron at that time. The Baron had expressed an interest in her, which had led to a discussion of her education, though at the time she felt that his interest was more in her cleavage than her education. As it turned out, his son had died two years ago while on a photographic safari in Africa of snakebite. The lack of any anti-venom by the safari organizers had enraged the Baron to such an extent that he had hired Paula to do field research in Africa to develop anti-venom for some of the deadliest snakes in the world. Paula was a herpetologist specializing in Ophiology or the study of snakes. Paula lightly leaned back testing the fabric of the chair and took another sip of her wine. She would pick up a new chair and tent the next time she traveled to town. She had earlier declined the Baron’s offer to dine with him in his tent explaining that she had work to do. It had been over a year since she last saw him and at that time she found him quite charming. Now with him here in the jungle away from his also charming wife, he was a different man all together. Shortly after his arrival, she quickly found the man to be thoroughly disgusting. During the day today she had often felt his eyes on her and he did little to hide where he was looking. Paula no longer bothered with a bra in the jungle. She had quickly found that in the heat, her bra would be soaked with her sweat in just a few hours. For the most part, her only human contact was with Manswana and that was usually only at mealtime. The Baron’s visit was a complete surprise or she would have worn a bra today. His eyes had sparkled and taken in her full figure. He had not even bothered to hide the fact that he was doing so. This evening she had declined the Baron’s dinner offer for two reasons. The first being that she no longer liked the man and had no desire to offer temptation to him by dining alone with him in his tent and the second that she did not want to eat the rich foods he had brought with him. She felt that if she did, she would not be able to go back to eating the mystery meat that Manswana served for the evening meal. Paula Fisher was a beautiful woman and she was well aware of that fact. She was only twenty-eight and on the times she was dressed in an evening gown, she drew the eyes of every man when she walked into a room. She was almost six foot tall, being only an inch short of the mark. Her long black hair when she let it down reached to the small of her back. Her eyes were a very light blue, hinting at being gray. An odd color for a woman with black hair. The kind of eyes you would more likely expect to find on a Scandinavian blond. Haunting eyes she had once been told. They could be a hard ice-cold blue when she was angry or a sparkling inviting pool of temptation when she was happy. She had high cheekbones and full sensuous lips. At one hundred thirty pounds, her figure was full and trim, even in the baggy soiled outfit she now wore, the Baron’s eyes had gleamed brightly when he had driven up this afternoon. Her long legs were slim and well muscled from her days of riding horses and walking in heels. They were unshaven now as were her armpits. A year in the jungle with no men around to complain had reduced her to just the basics of life and hygiene. She bathed once a week now in a canvas tub Manswana had constructed behind her tent. He had informed her that it was not safe to bathe in the river. Once a week he would boil a large pot of water and pour it in the tub along with some river water to cool it to a comfortable temperature. He would hang canvas around the edges for privacy and then leave her alone to bathe. She would wash her hair and scrub her skin. When she was through she would dress in clean clothes that Manswana would lay out for her. She only changed once a week now too. She had quickly found a clean set would be soiled and damp from sweat within an hour. Later he would empty and clean the tub.
J. R. Brice is a Florida native who is currently serving his country as a US Marine. A highly decorated member of the armed service, he has several tours in both Afghanistan and Iraq to his credit. His other titles include Trinity Count, The Rosebud Report, The Wrath of Mamba, and Genesis Ship.