ASK BE: political-fantasy-satirical-romance novel
March 17, 2008
“your comic misogyny aside, a lot of that was seriously entertaining prose (the post, not the adolescent rant above). You should write a political-fantasy-satirical-romance novel. Okay, minus the romance bit, though it’d boost sales.”
The Mysterious Baredfeetandteeth
Technically more a suggestion, than a question proper; but an oddly prescient one. Though I have never mentioned it before now, I have been working on just such a novel for the better part of three years. Due to publisher oversight I can only post a short excerpt. There are a few autobiographical touches, but mostly it’s a allegorical study on the nature of power, and mans desire for fundamental connection.
For your consideration:
(Excerpt) Woman in full: A bicamerial seduction
Senator Craig toed the door shut with shocking pedial dexterity, his sinewy calfs bulking impressively under his tawny Aberdeen slacks. Hillary perched coquettishly on the edge of a pages desk, eyeing her political rival with wary intrigue.
” Did you really need to privacy to gloat about blocking my health care reform package” said Hillary.
Senator Craig twitched a lipless smirk.
“Do you believe in compromise, Hillary” said Craig, closing the distance between them with alley cat grace.
Hillary raised a well plucked eyebrow
“Do you mean compromise, or, spun surrender? I’ve no wish to put a bow on my defeat, for appearances sake.”
Craig cosied up the last few feet, until there were bare inches between them. His sleepy lids rolled back to reveal startling orbs of cerulean fish eyed majesty; reaching out he took her bony wrist into his delicate pink hands.
“Perhaps you could have my support after all…if you were willing to reach across the aisle.”
Hillary looked away demurely, but her filthy hands slipped to his waist, seemingly of there own accord. With practised ease she unsheathed his congressional member, taking it into her small, and only partially liver spotted, hands…dutifully going about the business of the people.
His turgid man engine surged to life, thrumming with the rigidity of a high tension power wire. Grunting like a stuck wildebeest, Craig lustily flipped Hillary to her stomach, tearing off her tasteful pantsuit with Precambrian abandon
“You just got nominated to chair the senate subcommittee on taking my load…balls deep!”
Hillary laughed at his clever wordplay…not finding his constant governmental double entendre tired or cliché in any way…then grunted as he gerrymandered his dumptruck like manhood into her lower congressional district.
“Dear God Senator….I see why your party has an elephant as it’s symbol”
Craig shuddered then collapsed against her. Pushing away, a look of sudden concern overtook him.
“You’re pro choice, right?”