The Arab Sprung: While a Muslim Sleeps in the White House

In Part Three of THE MUSLIM ROMANCE TRILOGY, while the Middle East catches fire, there are neither chase scenes nor special effects and no one gives birth, gets married, or wins an Oscar. However, there is political exile, rain, drought, and shameful antics for you to shake your judgmental fist at. Reeling from the loss of a sexually charged unrequited love, at sixty-two years Julie begins her search for the perfect foot to fit her throbbing glass slipper. In her thwarted attempts to replace the Islamic wannabe terrorist Ali, she takes on an Israeli roofing contractor, an Armenian carwash czar, a Persian Jew real estate entrepreneur, an Hispanic house painter, an alcoholic surf bum, a bad kisser with scoliosis, a handsome jet pilot with an aversion to any and all lip-to-lip contact, and her dream date version of Superman. The average age of her conquests a nice and tidy forty years. Her espionage career brought to a halt; the drinking, the smoking, the destructive self-indulgences, and the sexual misadventures do not stop until the very last chapter. You'll scream at her, but you'll want to be her for at least one miserable day, until the longest love letter ever written comes to its final end. Julie experienced the misery of Islamic love and lived to write about it, so you wouldn't have to.

Author: Juliet Montague
Publisher: Juliet Montague
Published: 09/15/2016
Pages: 630
Binding Type: Paperback
Weight: 2.01lbs
Size: 9.00h x 6.00w x 1.40d
ISBN: 9780692695944

About the Author
Juliet Montague is a California native born and raised in a once beautiful valley at the base of the San Bernardino National Forest. After four decades of marriages, births, and divorces, she began her reinvention in Hollywood. A retired court stenographer, Ms. Montague is now a working actor. This is her third novel. In her sincere desire to contribute to World Peace, Juliet is no longer dating. She continues to audition for commercials touting disreputable pharmaceuticals, but refuses to show one more blood-sucking lookie-loo a fixer-upper. She and the old Maltese Brute are happy at home in Hollywood, where Juliet begins to pen her next roman à clef, wherein true names will again be changed to protect the not-so-innocent and to nip in the bud any frivolous lawsuits.

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