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FOREWORD
Beauty Secrets From Persian Princesses
“How is everything?”
I glanced up from my overdone eggs and light brown coffee to
greet the eyes of an exotic girl with an alien accent. She possessed
a smile that illuminated an already sunny morning.
“Great, thanks!”
I was being seductively polite, especially considering the lack of
sleep from the Bohemian Austin nightlife. To worsen the matter,
thanks to an overbooking fiasco at my preferred hotel, I was
stranded at a Holiday Inn breakfast buffet with coffee weaker than
Pee Wee Herman after an induced coma.
Still, I didn’t want this mysterious sounding beauty to scurry off just
yet. Something about her made me want to know more, and it wasn’t
just the alluring surface. There was something beneath the eyes that
betrayed her superficial small talk and let her depth of character
peek out.
She simply did not belong here, and I wanted to know why.
Everyone and everything seemed to be clamoring for something
less intrusive than the information I was after. Empty coffee cups,
half-finished plates of food, and the ubiquitous complainer—none
of these legitimate working concerns factored into my mounting
curiosity.
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