Barbara Brett stopped by to share all the intimate details about her new book. SIZZLE, Where the Boardroom Meets the Bedroom
BOOK BLURB:
She’s the most beautiful and ruthless CEO in the nation. He’s the most dangerous corporate raider in the world. Neither has ever lost a battle in the boardroom—or the bedroom. Now they’re warring for America’s biggest publishing prize.
SIZZLE—a novel of breathtaking power and ambition, set against the jet-setting world of Manhattan’s elite!
“[A] battle fraught with...the dirtiest of tricks...the stuff that destroys marriages, people, lives.... Sizzle through the summer with Sizzle.”—The Salem News
SIZZLE—a novel of breathtaking power and ambition, set against the jet-setting world of Manhattan’s elite!
“[A] battle fraught with...the dirtiest of tricks...the stuff that destroys marriages, people, lives.... Sizzle through the summer with Sizzle.”—The Salem News
EXCERPT:
At
Ledoyen, Marietta and Craig were seated at a table with an excellent view of
the garden. Their wine was poured into crystal glasses, their courses dispensed
from Louis XV serving carts. In such an atmosphere, it was difficult not to be
warm and cordial, and Marietta sensed Craig's reserve yielding a little with
every sip of wine.
She kept the
conversation sprightly and flowing, and saw to it that they spoke a great deal
about Craig's career and not at all about hers. By the time they were sipping
their demitasse, the years seemed to have slipped away, and they were once
again sharing special looks and laughter.
Before they
left, Marietta turned for a last look at the garden. Craig's gaze followed
hers, and he said:
"Everything
they say about April in Paris is true, isn't it?"
"Suddenly I
have a terrific yen for more chestnuts in blossom. Let's take a walk in the
Bois de Boulogne."
Craig smiled
indulgently. "Why not? Sounds like a pleasant way to work off some of our
excess calories."
It had been ages
since Marietta had been in the Bois. For years, Paris trips for her had meant
board meetings and boutiques by day and café society by night, but her
intuition told her that a stroll together through the park might awaken in
Craig's mind fond memories of similar strolls through Central Park. Perhaps it
did; he seemed even more relaxed and happy in the sun- dappled woods than he
had been in the restaurant. It was his idea to hire a horse-drawn carriage so
that they could view in style the lakes and waterfalls and the charming Parc de
Bagatelle.
As they passed
the nearby children's playground, Craig turned to Marietta and asked,
"Have you ever been to the Jardin d'Acclimation?"
She shook her
head.
"You don't
know what you've been missing," he said, and he told the driver in perfect
French to take them there.
Marietta had
expected—or hoped—that they were heading for romantic gardens where he'd
suggest a stroll beneath shady trees beside a sparkling lake, and was surprised
and disappointed when the driver reined his horse before the entrance to a
combination children's zoo and amusement park.
Craig paid the
driver and helped her from the carriage. "You're going to love this,"
he said.
She doubted that
very much.
She was wrong.
The Jardin d'Acclimation was designed to charm both child and adult alike.
Perhaps adults enjoyed it most of all, for the true joys of childhood, like so
many of life's delights, are never really appreciated until they are forever
lost. Marietta and Craig paddled a boat across a clear lagoon, laughed in the
house of funny mirrors, tried their luck on the archery range and at miniature
golf, ate warm waffles, and fed the animals. She couldn't remember when she'd
had so much fun. Or perhaps she could: seventeen years before, bundled up
against the cold, strolling hand in hand with Craig, tasting New York City's
delights.
Later, Craig
whisked her in a cab to the Porte Dauphine. "You've never seen Paris until
you've seen this," he said, and gestured toward the Etoile, painted gold
and pink in the light of the setting sun.
Marietta caught
her breath. "It's beautiful!" she said. But even as the words were
leaving her mouth, even as her eyes continued to take in the scene before her,
she was aware of a subtle change in Craig. He was no longer gazing in awe at
the Etoile. He was looking at her; she could feel it. And she could feel, too,
that if she turned to look at him, she'd find the awe still in his eyes, but
directed toward her. Sunsets enhanced her charms, silhouetting her fine profile,
deepening the coppery tone of her hair. Slowly, her heart pounding, she turned
to him. She was right. In his eyes she saw the same desire that had been there
seventeen years before.
"I don't
want this day to end," she said.
He didn't kiss
her, as she had hoped he would, but his gaze slipped down and caressed her
lips, then returned to meet hers. "Neither do I," he said huskily.
"I'll pick you up for dinner at eight-thirty."
BUY LINKS
Barbara Brett’s colorful publishing career includes stints as the editor of True Romance and True Confessions. During that time, she began writing mainstream novels, and after the publication of Between Two Eternities and Love After Hours, she was named vice president and publisher of Thomas Bouregy & Company, where she oversaw Avalon Books, the company’s hardcover fiction for libraries. Later, she established her own company, Brett Books, devoted to hardcover inspirational nonfiction. She is now back to her own writing and delighted to see Sizzle published. She promises to follow it with many more exciting books.
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