Ain't She Sweet? by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

From the Publisher

Sugar Beth Carey's come back to Parrish, Mississippi, and she's brought her reputation for wreaking havoc with her. She's broke, desperate, and too proud to show it, even with her old enemies lining up for a chance to get even. Her former girlfriends have their eyebrow pencils sharpened into lethal points. Winnie Davis, her longtime rival, is fully armed with the money, power, and prestige that had once been Sugar Beth's. But worst of all is Colin Byrne, the man whose career Sugar Beth had destroyed — and not exactly accidentally.

Now Colin's a famous novelist living in Sugar Beth's old mansion, and this modern day dark prince is using his writer's imagination to figure out how to bring the town's beautiful former princess to her knees. But despite her sassy mouth, feisty spirit, and hardheaded ways, Sugar Beth's no longer the spoiled rich girl they all remember. No, now she's a woman to be reckoned with ... and a great big reckonin' is about to happen, not least of all for one dark prince who might — just might — be thinking about falling in love with the wickedest girl in town.

Ain't She Sweet? A funny, heartwarming, oh-so-spicy story of love, friendship, and the possibility of happily-ever-after.

Publishers Weekly

A small town's prodigal daughter returns to face her past in bestseller Phillips's latest cheeky, diverting fairy tale. Sugar Beth Carey, "the wild child of Parrish, Mississippi," was once the queen of all she surveyed, but after 15 years and three marriages, she's a broken (and broke) husk of her former self. Who's loving the schadenfreude? The Seawillows, for starters-the gaggle of Southern belles Sugar dumped years ago, plus Winnie Davis, the half-sister she treated like dirt. And there's more: not only did Sugar stomp on gorgeous Ryan Galantine's heart (luckily, Winnie caught him on the rebound), she also got Colin Byrne, the sexy British high school teacher, fired for ostensibly coming on to her. Colin now owns her family's manse, and she's inherited the carriage house on his property-along with a highly valuable painting, location unknown (might it be hiding in Colin's attic? Or is it right under her nose?). Phillips keeps the tension high, with Colin (now a successful writer and member of the town's "in" crowd) and all of the rest of Parrish looking to make Sugar pay for past misdeeds. Colin hires her to be his housekeeper, and soon their days are filled with bickering, backstabbing and lots of orgasmic sex. A subplot involving Gigi, Winnie and Ryan's rebellious teenage daughter, who somewhat improbably turns to Sugar Beth for advice, detracts from the primary drama. The novel is at its best when Phillips sticks with what she does best-fast-paced romps featuring two headstrong people who finally realize that they're soul mates. 7-city author tour. (Feb. 3) Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

Library Journal

Read by Anna Fields. (See Prepub Alert, LJ 4/15/05) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.

Product Details

• Interviews & Essays
• Read a Sample Chapter

Interviews & Essays

Heart to Heart: Ain't She Sweet? is centered around a wonderful heroine, Sugar Beth Carey, and how her experiences in high school affect later life. Was your own experience more like Sugar Beth's, the prettiest girl in the school, or Winnie, the nerd?

Susan Elizabeth Phillips: I was definitely the prettiest girl in school... the most popular... the best dressed. Yep, that was me all right. Okay, I'm lying, but it's fun to pretend. The truth is, I never got it right in high school -- clothes, hair, boys, anything. Definitely more like Winnie, although I wasn't shy (or as smart!).

HtoH: There's a wonderful scene midway through the book where Sugar Beth counsels the 13-year-old daughter of her former boyfriend about using her teenage years to become strong, not popular, to accumulate power, not to give it away. Where did this concept come from?

SEP: Observation and life experience. I've only raised sons, but from my observations, girls still get a lot of messages that steal their power. A girl with great leadership skills is admonished "not to be so bossy," for example. Who ever says anything like that to a boy? I also think girls are giving up a lot of sexual power by holding their bodies too cheaply. (I know. I sound like a geezer.)

HtoH: Did you run into any particular difficulties writing the story of Sugar Beth and Colin?

SEP: Sugar Beth may be my all-time favorite. She's tough, funny, and vulnerable -- a former spoiled brat who's learned life's most difficult lessons the hard way. As for her nemesis -- lethal, elegant Colin Byrne… Readers might be interested to know he wasn't the book's original hero. The first hero I created proved much too tame for Sugar Beth, so when I was about four months into the writing process, I pressed my delete key, went back to Chapter One, and started all over again. I think Colin was worth the extra effort. And so does Sugar Beth….

HtoH: Do you usually choose your titles from music?

SEP: Sometimes yes, sometimes no. This book was originally titled LUV U 4-EVER, but we started worrying about things like search engines and whether it sounded too much like a young adult title. Readers might be interested to know that Ain't She Sweet? was the original title of It Had to Be You, the first book in the Chicago Stars series. I'm so glad I finally get to use it.

Read a Sample Chapter

"I am afraid," confessed Pen, "that I am not very well-behaved. Aunt says that I had a lamentable upbringing."
Georgette Heyer, The Corinthian

Chapter One

The wild child of Parrish, Mississippi, had come back to the town she'd left behind forever. Sugar Beth Carey gazed from the rain-slicked windshield to the horrible dog who lay beside her on the passenger seat.

"I know what you're thinking, Gordon, so go ahead and say it. How the mighty have fallen, right?" She gave a bitter laugh. "Well, screw you. Just ..." She blinked her eyes against a sting of tears. "Just ... screw you."

Gordon lifted his head and sneered at her. He thought she was trash.

"Not me, pal." She turned up the heater on her ancient Volvo against the chill of the late February day. "Griffin and Diddie Carey ruled this town, and I was their princess. The girl most likely to set the world on fire."

She heard an imaginary howl of basset hound laughter.

Like the row of tin-roofed houses she'd just passed, Sugar Beth had grown a little shabby at the edges. The long blond hair that swirled to her shoulders didn't gleam as brightly as it once had, and the tiny gold hearts at her earlobes no longer skipped in a carefree dance. Her pouty lips had lost the urge to curl in flirtatious smiles, and her baby doll cheeks had given up their innocence three husbands ago.

Thick lashes still framed a pair of amazing clear blue eyes, but a delicate tracing of lines had begun to make tiny fishtails at the corners. Fifteen years earlier, she'd been the best-dressed girl in Parrish, but now one of her calf-high stiletto-heeled boots had a small hole in the sole, and her scarlet body-hugging knit dress with its demure turtleneck and not-so-demure hemline had come from a discount store instead of a pricey boutique.

Parrish had begun its life in the 1820s as a northeastern Mississippi cotton town and later escaped the torches of the occupying Union army, thanks to the wiles of its female population, who'd showered the boys in blue with such unrelenting charm and indefatigable Southern hospitality that none of them had the heart to strike the first match. Sugar Beth was a direct descendant of those women, but on days like this, she had a tough time remembering it.

She adjusted the windshield wipers as she approached Shorty Smith Road and gazed toward the two-story building, empty on this Sunday afternoon, that still sat at the end. Thanks to her father's economic blackmail, Parrish High School stood as one of the Deep South's few successful experiments with integrated public education. Once she'd ruled those hallways. She alone had decided who sat at the best table in the cafeteria, which boys were acceptable to date, and whether an imitation Gucci purse was okay if your daddy wasn't Griffin Carey, and you couldn't afford the real thing. Blond and divine, she'd reigned supreme.

She hadn't always been a benevolent dictator, but her power had seldom been challenged, not even by the teachers. One of them had tried, but Sugar Beth had made short work of that. As for Winnie Davis ... What chance did a clumsy, insecure geek have against the power and might of Sugar Beth Carey?

As she gazed through the February drizzle at the high school, the old music began to drum in her head: INXS, Miami Sound Machine, Prince. In those days, when Elton John sang "Candle in the Wind," he'd only been singing of Marilyn.

High school. The last time she'd owned the world. Gordon farted.

"God, I hate you, you miserable dog."

Gordon's scornful expression told her he didn't give a damn. These days, neither did she.

She checked the gas gauge. She was running on fumes, but she didn't want to waste money filling the tank until she had to. Looking on the bright side, who needed gas when she'd reached the end of the road?

She turned the corner and saw the empty lot marking the place where Ryan's house had once stood. Ryan Galantine had been Ken to her Barbie. The most popular boy; the most popular girl. Luv U 4-Ever. She'd broken his heart their freshman year at Ole Miss when she'd screwed around on him with Darren Tharp, the star athlete who'd become her first husband.

Sugar Beth remembered the way Winnie Davis used to look at Ryan when she didn't think anyone was watching. As if a clumsy outcast had a chance with a dazzler like Ryan Galantine. Sugar Beth's group of friends, the Seawillows, had wet their pants laughing at her behind her back. The memory depressed her even further.

As she drove toward the center of town, she saw that Parrish had capitalized on its newfound fame as the setting and leading character of the nonfiction best-seller Last Whistle-stop on the Nowhere Line. The new Visitors Bureau had attracted a steady stream of tourists, and she could see the town had spruced itself up. The sidewalk in front of the Presbyterian church no longer buckled, and the ugly streetlights she'd grown up with had been replaced with charming turn-of-the-century lampposts. Along Tyler Street, the historic Antebellum, Victorian, and Greek Revival homes sported fresh coats of paint, and a jaunty copper weathervane graced the cupola of Miss Eulie Baker's Italianate monstrosity. Sugar Beth and Ryan had made out in the alley behind that house the night before they'd gone all the way.

She turned onto Broadway, the town's four-block main street. The courthouse clock was no longer frozen at ten past ten, and the fountain in the park had shed its grime. The bank, along with a half dozen other businesses, sported maroon and green striped awnings, and the Confederate flag was nowhere in sight ...