Outskirts Press, INC.

WHERE LOVE AND DESTINY BLOSSOM

Marcella de Marseille: An exquisitely fashionable beauty in her mid thirties, as intelligent as she is loving and generous, Marcella arouses the envy of every woman she meets, and the desire of every man. Her sagacity and determination have raised her nearly-dying family business, Château de Marcel Vineyards, to a household name. But despite her accomplishments, something is missing in her life … Herbert Tempest Remington: Twenty-eight, a college dropout, the handsome and charming Herby is an outsider, longingly watching the privileged class enjoy luxuries he can only dream of. But there is a bright spot in Herby’s grey life – the beautiful Marcella, who takes him under her wing and teaches him to move through her world as if he had been born to it. Herby inspires and delights Marcella, and he loves her. But there is more to Herby than meets the eye … Bruno Casiano: A clothing designer with world-class talent, Bruno has been waiting for the right opportunity to break into the world of high fashion. When the stunning Marcella de Marseille takes an interest in his designs, thrilling new possibilities unfold. But conflicts in Bruno’s life threaten to ruin his empire even as he builds it … From the dazzle of Chicago’s high society to the glamour of Paris fashion; from the sun-drenched beaches of San Juan to the rich heritage of France’s wine country, Le beau jardin shows us the beauty of friendship, the dangers that accompany ambition, and the transforming power of true love.

Prologue...To A Love Story... It was a cold and rainy Wednesday in Chicago. The stinging rain attacked Herby's face like a horde of angry bees. He pulled the collar of his Burberry raincoat snugly around his face and raced into the Starbucks between Randolph and Lake, on Michigan Avenue for his daily soy chai latte. "No foam, no water." The hot drink warmed his soul like a letter from home; slowly alleviating his weather induced shivering. Rain or shine Herby would never start a day without his tea. He looked at his gold Rolex watch. It was 9:00 am exactly, and he was on time for his meeting with a dear friend. She arrived minutes later wearing a fashionable Burberry Prussian blue taffeta trench coat and a black epi leather Louis Vuitton bag with its strap over her left shoulder, and the purse lying flat against her right side. Her wavy black hair, accented by a touch of grey, was about two or three inches in length and brushed straight back. She sat across from Herby, who greeted her in a way that only he could. "Marcella...you are a fucking knockout!" "Thank you dear boy -- And always remember that it takes one to know one." Marcella smiled as she pursed her lips to form a kiss meant only for him. "I trust you haven't been waiting to long Hubert." He loved Marcella and he liked how she pronounced his name with that French accent of hers. Just the sound of her voice while whispering his name (Oobear) was enough to make him orgasmic. If ever there was a woman he could have truly loved...she was the one. Marcella was in her mid to late thirties and caused heads to turn no matter where she was or what she wore. She basked in the glow of her own ambiance and would not have had it any other way. Women were jealous of her and men were desirous and tried to tempt her by offering whatever she wanted. The only problem with that approach was that she was independently wealthy and scoffed at such advances. Marcella was a self made woman who had inherited a nearly dying family vineyard in France. Not only did she will the vineyard back to life through her sagacity, hard work, and shear determination; she had single-handedly made the name of Chateau de Marcel Vineyards synonymous with the world's finest purveyors of the wine known as vermouth. Marcella wasn't just another pretty face--quite the contrary,she was a force to be reckoned with...something she knew all to well. Herby was a small and unassuming young man whose brown eyes twinkled whenever he flashed his Colgate smile. At five feet six inches tall he carried himself in a manner that allowed him to stand out in a crowd, even when those in attendance towered above him. Herby loved Chicago and was no stanger to the Peninsula Chicago, a hotel on the famed magnificent mile, a place he considered one of his favorite haunts. Wearing his beautiful custom made full length raccoon coat, perfect for the Chicago winters, he would saunter into the lounge and in a matter of minutes have the hotel guests eating out of his hands with his intellectual repartee. Like lots of young people his age -- he was twenty-eight -- Herby longed for the good life, and why not? He was just as good as anyone else. He secretly looked up to the members of the accredited trade...those people who were rich and lived the high life, spending lavishly on things that he could only dream of.