By Susan Elizabeth Phillips
Sugar Beth Carey's come again to Parrish, Mississippi, and she'sbrought her popularity for wreaking havoc together with her. She's broke,desperate, and too proud to teach it, regardless of her previous enemieslining up for an opportunity to get even. Her former girlfriends havetheir eyebrow pencils sharpened into deadly issues. Winnie Davis,her longtime rival, is totally armed with the cash, strength, andprestige that had as soon as been Sugar Beth's. yet worst of all isColin Byrne, the fellow whose profession Sugar Beth had destroyed -- and never precisely accidentally.
Now Colin's a recognized novelist residing in Sugar Beth's outdated mansion,and this contemporary day darkish prince is utilizing his writer's imaginationto work out the right way to carry the town's attractive former princessto her knees. yet regardless of her sassy mouth, feisty spirit, andhardheaded methods, Sugar Beth's not the spoiled wealthy girlthey all bear in mind. No, now she's a lady to be reckoned with ...and a very good immense reckonin' is set to ensue, now not least of allfor one darkish prince who may well -- simply may possibly -- be pondering aboutfalling in love with the wickedest woman in town.
Ain't She Sweet? A humorous, heartwarming, oh-so-spicy tale of love, friendship, and the potential of happily-ever-after.
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Extra info for Ain't She Sweet?
There was no organized decorating scheme. The room’s threadbare Oriental rug competed with the faded floral chintz sofa. A coral and yellow flame stitch on an armchair peeked out from beneath an assortment of crocheted cushions. The ottoman was worn green leather, the curtains yellowed lace. Still, the colors and patterns, muted by age and wear, had achieved a tired sort of harmony. Sugar Beth walked over to the sideboard and brushed away a cobweb to open the silver chest. Inside were twelve place settings of Gorham’s Chantilly sterling.
Those man-killer light blue eyes and perfectly symmetrical features would follow her to the grave, and that cloud of blond hair should be fanned out on a satin pillow in a Playboy spread. But the dewy freshness had disappeared. She’d looked older than thirty-three and tougher. She was thinner, too. He’d seen the tendons in the long sweep of her neck, and her wrists looked almost frail. But that dangerous sexuality hadn’t changed. At eighteen, it had been new and indiscriminate. Now it was well honed and much more lethal.
Then he’d begun dribbling it down the field, running at full speed, the ball right between his feet. After that, the boys’ opinions of him had changed, and it wasn’t long before they’d invited him to join them at the basketball hoop. ” He curled those workingman’s fingers around a cut-glass tumbler. ” “One thing never changes about Parrish. ” Cool air brushed her belly as she slipped her hands into the pockets of her black leather jacket and pushed it back. Her cropped candy pink T-shirt had the word Beast written in glitter script over her breasts.