To say Anne was stunned when she was summoned to the winter home of Becky Nelson—head of production at a very well-known studio—would be an understatement. Becky had cut her teeth working for Anne’s father: nepotism, there was that inconvenient word again. Was this a real deal? Had it ever…
Tag: #vickielesterbook1
“I think he said something about somebody being beyond stoned on set.” Bill sighed. “Those people who told you Cliff was a good man. They were right.” Anne could feel her eyes sting and her throat tighten like she was about to cry but she smiled instead and…
*** The beginning… *** and some of the sexy bits… *** Now, my angels… Not to be craven, or anything… But there are occasional ‘quakes in L.A., what with all the big egos and wait…is that another tremblor? I thought Spielberg dropped his wallet! I thought my husband finally picked…
Usually when I wake on Sunday mornings I have dim sum palaces on my mind: piles of jade green vegetables sauteed with shards of garlic, barbecued duck and scallions rolled in delicate pancakes, caramelized pan fried pork dumplings, rich golden custard tarts called dan ta and cup after cup after…
Bob Brown’s house was a glorified Spanish Colonial on Crescent Drive designed by Wallace Neff sometime in the forties and purchased by Brown in 1964. The entry hall had a curved stairway and the walls were hung with Pop Art. There was a Jasper Johns—an embossed print of two “mouths”…