On a balmy day this past June, I meet Ann Coulter at a seventh-floor studio in lower Manhattan. She has just finished writing In Trump We Trust: E Pluribus Awesome!, her hasty manifesto in support of Donald Trump’s presidential campaign. Now, she’s posing against a white tapestry in a white body-con dress, a red “Make America Great Again” cap perched over her shoulder. It’s time for the book’s cover shoot, and I am here to watch.

“Try being a little bitchy,” says her longtime photographer, Shonna. (When I arrived, Coulter introduced us, pronouncing it Sh-own-a. Behind her Shonna mouthed, ‘That’s not how you say it.”)

Coulter tosses her hair, gold and glowing under the white lights. “I’m never bitchy!”

She looks ethereal in this white-drenched room. The studio hands position a fan off-camera. They switch it on and her hair lifts and ripples behind her. “Yes yes yes,” Shonna-not-Showna croons. The shutter pops and pops and with each pop comes a new yes or just like that and you can tell Coulter feels good.