Best Of Sandra Brown Novels & Stories

"Seriously?" Bammie exclaimed excitedly when Sandra told her about Carmina and Zion's collaboration plan. "I thought you don't like her?" she protruded. Sandra tilted her head whilst raising her eyebrows. "Business is business Bammie. I don't like her personally, but she's still an asset that needed to dig in from her deeply buried career." she answered in a matter-of-fact tone. Bammie smiled knowingly then squealed while hugging her best friend. "Oh goodness! Finally, I'm gonna hear her voice and see her swag charisma again! Thank you Sandra!" she shrieked with her deafening voice.

"Uhm...seeing as we're already on the...uh, topic at hand, I think that telling you guys-" "I believe you should have told us the moment he set his eyes on you, but carry on," I let out a tiny smile at my mom's remark. Sandra glared at her. "I...met someone," she began quietly. "His name is...Boraxip," she let out a smile of her own, one that was genuine and...full of life. "He is...a Professor at Howard University and...yeah," she shrugged. "That's all?" My mother asked Sandra. "No 'oh he treats me like a princess.' Girl, we know how you like that kind of lifesty-"

Brian asked with a wider smile, momentarily forgetting that Sandra was present. "He's just helping me with Mama in making cookies," Nadine replied. "I'm so eager to taste your homemade cookies. Alright, I'll see you later. Love u," Brian ended the call after saying goodbye. Sandra froze, the question she was about to ask had just been answered directly. She didn't expect a glimmer of hope to enter her heart so suddenly, only to be extinguished again. However, she quickly regained her composure when she saw the engagement ring on her finger. She had to hold on to her determination that Brian was just a part of her past, one she would remember fondly and forgive for all the wrongs. This was ho

Looks at them. Smiles, small, proud, a little smug. I stand beside him. Wrap my arms around his waist. Sandra cries again, louder this time. I laugh. “She’s not impressed by Forbes,” I say. Alexander chuckles. “She’s already the most powerful person in the room.” We walk back to the nursery together. Sandra’s eyes are open now, storm-gray, bright, searching. She sees me. Her face lights up, real smile, gums showing, tiny arms waving.

“And you want Mila to be the one to change that?” “Exactly,” Sandra said proudly. “Consider it your birthday mission. Make the priest fall for you.” I stared at her, mouth open. “You’ve completely lost it.” “Come on,” she teased. “You’ve got charm, beauty, and sinful energy. Use it.” Amara laughed so hard she almost spilled her drink. “Sandra, you’re going to hell.” Sandra winked. “Then I’ll see the priest there.”

As she settled into the comfort of her surroundings, her thoughts once again took an unexpected turn, leading her down a path filled with bittersweet memories of her ex-boyfriend and business partner, Ali Andre. Recalling their initial meeting, Sandra’s mind conjured images of an art exhibition where their paths had first crossed. it was a serendipitous encounter. The kind that seemed destined to alter the course of their lives. Ali had exuded charisma and passion for the arts, and Sandra had been captivated by his words, finding solace in their shared love for creativity.

“Lock the door behind me. Eat the damn pizza. Shower. Try not to spontaneously combust. I’ll be back.” True to her word, Sandra returned three hours later, arms laden not just with more snacks (ice cream this time), but with fuzzy blankets, her favorite ridiculously cheesy rom-com DVDs, and a determined glint in her eye. “Operation Brain Scrub commences,” she announced. “No talk of emotionally stunted exes or current chaos agents. Only terrible dialogue, predictable plots, and excessive amounts of dairy.”

“We have to be seen together at places I usually go. And places you usually go.” “I don’t go places,” Sandra responded. I nodded. “I kind of figured since you’ve been working on rescuing Kingsley Manufacturing and dealing with your father’s death. But surely you must have some commitments in Chicago. Friends…?” Sandra just stared at me. “Acquaintances?” I tried. “I used to be on the charity circuit with my father,” Sandra said, taking another sip of water. “But that fell away when I could no longer be a donor. Everything Kingsley Manufacturing makes is going just to keeping the workers paid and the lights on.”

Natasha opened it and skimmed through the contents while Tulani made a call to his PA. “Claudia, get me Tamara in here.” “Who’s Tamara?” Natasha asked. “Tamara Banda is the head of broadcasting. You will be reporting to her.” He answered. “How old is she?” “Does the age of your boss matter?” Tulani laughed. “She should be in her early fifties.” “Perfect,” Natasha said. “I would hate to be reporting to someone my age. Women have a way of establishing rivalries that are not even there. That reminds me, I met your sister down in the parking lot earlier. She is as tough as you described her to be.”

another one replied. They are kept on boasting about themselves and assumed that they would succeed in getting the Young Master’s attention. Except for Sandra Matthews, the woman who had been fighting with Barbara until she almost suffocated. Sandra chose to remain silent and not fuss over the competition because, in fact, she had her own way already. Sandra knew a lot about the Young Master, what he liked and what he always did. That’s why she answered Kyle Brenan’s every question so easily. “Good luck, whoever is Young Master’s assistant is certainly the best, and the most important thing is not that girl, because she messed everything up yesterday,” Sandra told the other three women.