Under cover of Christmas holiday, President-elect Julia Cosgrove jets to Costa Rica for a quick cosmetic tune-up before her historic inauguration. Just a little botox to the frown lines, a little collagen to the lips.…
But during the procedure, tremors from a volcanic eruption cause a slip of the syringe, and the soon-to-be Commander in Chief finds herself graced with an enormous right nostril. Doctors assure Cosgrove that the collagen will wear off in three to six months. Knowing she’d be unable to dodge the public eye for long, and with the inauguration just three weeks away, Cosgrove does what she always does when she’s in a bind: tosses the problem to political strategist and fubar-fixer extraordinaire, Stanfield Mercer. He announces Cosgrove’s intent to mark the dawn of this historic era with a personal tribute to the world’s women—starting now, and starting with the Women of Afghanistan.
America was ready for its first woman president. It was not ready for one in a burkha. Reaction ranges from outrage to ridicule to calls for impeachment on psychological grounds. The blogosphere erupts with cries of global, sinister plots. Leading the charge to uncover the President and the truth are three unlikely patriots with a nose for intrigue: an investigative blogger who runs an Alzheimers day-care center in her home, a slot machine saleswoman, and a jeweler who moonlights writing warning labels for cleaning products.
What they uncover is more than either Cosgrove or Mercer bargained for.
I was just thinking of the advantages to a burkha yesterday now that I'm draped in scarves like a gypsy just to leave the steam heat for a quick crawl to the bodega for Bustello.
I think this sounds hilarious. Comic political novels are harder to sell than haiku, but what the heck.