Envy by Sandra Brown Page B
Authors: Sandra Brown
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Psychological, Islands, Revenge, Georgia, Romantic suspense novels, Women editors, Editors, Novelists, Authors and Publishers
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thinking it will be easy to work with this character."
###"Do you even know his telephone #########81
number?"
"I do now. Thanks to caller ID. I checked it this morning and recognized the area code I called yesterday."
"Ah, the miracles of advanced technology.
In my day--was
"In your day?" she repeated with a laugh.
"It's still your day."
Reaching for his speckled hand, she patted it fondly. One day he would be gone, and she didn't know how she was going to survive that loss.
She'd grown up in this house, and it hadn't been easy to leave it, even when she went away to college. Her bedroom had been on the third floor--still was if she ever wanted to use it.
Daniel's bedroom was on the second floor, and he was determined to keep it there despite the pain involved in getting up and down the stairs.
Maris recalled Christmas mornings, waking up before daylight, racing down to his room and begging him to get up and go downstairs with her to see what Santa Claus had left beneath the tree.
She had thousands of happy and vivid
recollections of her childhood--the two of them ice-skating in Central Park, strolling through street fairs eating hot dogs or falafel while rummaging in the secondhand book stalls, having high tea at the Plaza following a matinee, reading in front of the fireplace in his study, hosting formal dinner parties in the dining room, and sharing midnight snacks with Maxine in the kitchen. All her memories were good.
Because she had been a late-in-life only child, he had doted on her. Her mother's death could have been a heartache that wedged them apart. Instead, it had forged the bond between father and daughter. His discipline had been firm and consistent, but only rarely necessary. Generally, she had been obedient, never wanting to incur his disfavor.
The most rebellious offense she'd ever committed was to sneak out one night to meet a group of friends at a club that Daniel had placed off-limits. When she returned home in the wee hours she discovered just how vigilant a parent her father was--the kitchen window through which she had sneaked out had been locked behind her.
Forced to ring the front doorbell, she'd had to wait on the stoop for what seemed an excruciating eternity until Daniel came
#to let her in. He didn't yell at ####83
her. He didn't lecture. He simply
told her that she must pay the consequences of making a bad choice. She'd been grounded for a month.
The worst of the punishment, however, had been his disappointment in her. She never sneaked out again.
She'd been indulged but not spoiled. In exchange for spending money, she was required to do chores. Her grades were closely monitored.
She was praised for doing well more frequently than she was punished for mistakes. Mostly she had been loved, and Daniel had made certain every day of her life that she knew it.
"So you think I should pursue _Envy?" she asked him now.
"Absolutely. The author has challenged you, although he might not have done it intentionally and doesn't even realize that he has. You, Maris Matherly-Reed, can't resist a challenge."
He'd practically quoted from an article recently written about her in a trade journal.
"Didn't I read that somewhere?" she teased.
"And you certainly can't resist a good book."
"I think that's why I'm so excited about this, Dad," she said, growing serious. "In my present capacity, most of my duties
revolve around publishing. I work on the book once all the writing and editing have been done. And I love doing what I do.
"But I didn't realize until yesterday when I read this prologue how much I'd missed the editing process. These days I read the final, polished version of a manuscript just before I send it to production. I can't dwell on it because there are a million decisions about another dozen books that are demanding my attention. I've missed working one-on-one with an author. Helping with character development. Pointing out weaknesses in the plot. God, I love that."
"It's the
###"Do you even know his telephone #########81
number?"
"I do now. Thanks to caller ID. I checked it this morning and recognized the area code I called yesterday."
"Ah, the miracles of advanced technology.
In my day--was
"In your day?" she repeated with a laugh.
"It's still your day."
Reaching for his speckled hand, she patted it fondly. One day he would be gone, and she didn't know how she was going to survive that loss.
She'd grown up in this house, and it hadn't been easy to leave it, even when she went away to college. Her bedroom had been on the third floor--still was if she ever wanted to use it.
Daniel's bedroom was on the second floor, and he was determined to keep it there despite the pain involved in getting up and down the stairs.
Maris recalled Christmas mornings, waking up before daylight, racing down to his room and begging him to get up and go downstairs with her to see what Santa Claus had left beneath the tree.
She had thousands of happy and vivid
recollections of her childhood--the two of them ice-skating in Central Park, strolling through street fairs eating hot dogs or falafel while rummaging in the secondhand book stalls, having high tea at the Plaza following a matinee, reading in front of the fireplace in his study, hosting formal dinner parties in the dining room, and sharing midnight snacks with Maxine in the kitchen. All her memories were good.
Because she had been a late-in-life only child, he had doted on her. Her mother's death could have been a heartache that wedged them apart. Instead, it had forged the bond between father and daughter. His discipline had been firm and consistent, but only rarely necessary. Generally, she had been obedient, never wanting to incur his disfavor.
The most rebellious offense she'd ever committed was to sneak out one night to meet a group of friends at a club that Daniel had placed off-limits. When she returned home in the wee hours she discovered just how vigilant a parent her father was--the kitchen window through which she had sneaked out had been locked behind her.
Forced to ring the front doorbell, she'd had to wait on the stoop for what seemed an excruciating eternity until Daniel came
#to let her in. He didn't yell at ####83
her. He didn't lecture. He simply
told her that she must pay the consequences of making a bad choice. She'd been grounded for a month.
The worst of the punishment, however, had been his disappointment in her. She never sneaked out again.
She'd been indulged but not spoiled. In exchange for spending money, she was required to do chores. Her grades were closely monitored.
She was praised for doing well more frequently than she was punished for mistakes. Mostly she had been loved, and Daniel had made certain every day of her life that she knew it.
"So you think I should pursue _Envy?" she asked him now.
"Absolutely. The author has challenged you, although he might not have done it intentionally and doesn't even realize that he has. You, Maris Matherly-Reed, can't resist a challenge."
He'd practically quoted from an article recently written about her in a trade journal.
"Didn't I read that somewhere?" she teased.
"And you certainly can't resist a good book."
"I think that's why I'm so excited about this, Dad," she said, growing serious. "In my present capacity, most of my duties
revolve around publishing. I work on the book once all the writing and editing have been done. And I love doing what I do.
"But I didn't realize until yesterday when I read this prologue how much I'd missed the editing process. These days I read the final, polished version of a manuscript just before I send it to production. I can't dwell on it because there are a million decisions about another dozen books that are demanding my attention. I've missed working one-on-one with an author. Helping with character development. Pointing out weaknesses in the plot. God, I love that."
"It's the
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