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WELLESLEY WIVES

Wellesley Wives, October 2012
The New England Trilogy #1
by Suzy Duffy

The Writer's Coffee Shop
Featuring: Lilly; Sandra; Popsy
352 pages
ISBN: 1612131093
EAN: 9781612131092
Kindle: B009HB0PO4
Hardcover / e-Book
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"A beautiful emotional family relationship tale"

Fresh Fiction Review

WELLESLEY WIVES
Suzy Duffy

Reviewed by Betty Cox
Posted September 23, 2013

Romance Contemporary

Popsy and Peter Power live in "Swellsey Wellesley," Massachusetts where the average wife has a twelve-hundred plus percentage of wealth than the average American wife. For Popsy's fiftieth birthday Peter is giving her a $250,000 red Ferrari convertible, a car Popsy thinks is more fun than her Mercedes. Her birthday is just a few days away and will be celebrated with her family; Rose and husband Marcus, and their five-year old daughter Natasha; and, single, career minded Lily. Sandra and Jack Hoffman, Peter's business partner, as well as being the Power's best friends, will also be there. Today Popsy has social appointments to keep, and Peter has a meeting with his bank.

Sandra Hoffman feels her marriage is on the rocks. Jack is a very lusty male, but there hasn't been any action in their bedroom for weeks. Sandra is forty-five and beautiful; she also wants a baby, but came into this marriage fifteen years ago knowing Jack did not intend to have any more children since he already has two by his first wife. Sandra suspects that Jack is getting ready to trade her in for a younger woman like he did with his first wife, Olga.

Rose's marriage is also in trouble. Marcus wants her to go with him on a "swinging vacation" in the Caribbean, and Rose does not want to be a part of this, but feels she has no choice since he is going with or without her. Lily is having an affair with a married man, and her actions will cause grief to so many people.

WELLESLEY WIVES is fantastic, and Suzy Duffy has done a remarkable job fleshing out her characters and several marital story threads. This is an emotional tale that keeps the reader totally involved and turning pages rapidly to see how Ms. Duffy sews everything together. She does an excellent job and produces a beautiful patchwork quilt.

Learn more about WELLESLEY WIVES

SUMMARY

In Boston, Popsy Power is pretty, popular and insanely rich. Her husband adores her and her two daughters are busy producing babies and romping up the corporate ladder – like good little Wellesley Wives. HOWEVER, what Popsy doesn't know is that her husband and worldly wealth will soon be gone and as for daughters? Well, Lily's romping is not restricted to the boardroom and Rosie finds her pilot–husband flying more than his jet airline... Sandra is Popsy's best friend. She has the perfect body, bank balance and palatial penthouse. As a second wife herself, she should know how husbands can wander but even she is shocked when she discovers where Jack has found his fun ... When Lily's nasty little secrets suddenly go public and Rosie finds her husband flying a little too high, it's time to escape. Popsy and Sandra flee to beautiful, peaceful Ireland. Rosie heads to Mexico and Lily seeks refuge in the arms of her man. The adventure continues for Popsy and Sandra because within days they're almost arrested, killed and then they find themselves in a boathouse in Banagher – with jobs! Meanwhile Rosie is diving off the back of a catamaran into the azure–blue of the Caribbean but she's not sure which are worse – the sharks in the sea or the ones on the beach. The only one back in Boston; Lily discovers that getting what she wanted was not what she wanted but unlike her scuba diving sister, surely she's in too deep? From Banagher to Boston and down to the Caribbean Sea these four ladies are on a rollercoaster ride through life. Rich, poor, happy, sad, in or out of love – only one thing is certain. Things are is never dull when you're with the Wellesley Wives.

EXCERPT

Jenny Lennox was a consummate hostess. Because she’d chosen to live farther out of town, she had more land. In Wellesley, where Popsy lived, real estate was at its priciest. To have a pool at the end of the garden, which of course she had, was considered an achievement. But living just fifteen miles west meant tennis courts and swimming pools were the norm. The paddocks and the helipad were the new β€œmust haves,” and now Jenny had a Renoir to top it all off. Popsy couldn’t help but be a little envious as she glided up the perfectly landscaped, one-mile driveway. She watched a chopper take off just as they arrived at the front of the house. Sandra, it seemed, felt likewise. β€œWho would be so tacky as to arrive in a chopper?” β€œWe would, if we could,” Popsy said, thinking about the Ferrari she’d test-driven only a few hours earlier. The Victorian-style house looked exquisite in its country setting, and at this time of year, it was festooned in a blaze of deep crimson Virginia creeper. Enormous oaks flanked the house, magnificent in their autumn color. It was impossible to look at it and not long to live in the country. As the thud-thud-thud of the chopper faded into the distance, a flock of crows cawed overhead, reclaiming their territory in the large and ancient trees along the front driveway. The house had perfect symmetry with three windows on the right and three on the left of the grandiose front door. Steps swept up to the door, which for today’s event was left open. Popsy took a moment to admire the huge urns on either side. Pyracanthas had been clipped to look like a giant ball and were in full bloom; they were covered in bright orange berries. These were underplanted with variegated ivy, which spilled out of the urns and down to the ground. It gave a feeling of understated opulence with a Halloween twist. Popsy made a mental note to do something similar in twelve months’ time. Once inside, they were greeted by beaming caterers offering a choice of sparkling water or even more sparkling champagne. Both women went for the champagne. Jenny Lennox descended upon them in a flurry of air kisses and exclamations of how good everybody looked. Popsy gave her the flower arrangement she’d brought, and Sandra presented her with a jar of limitededition caviar. As usual, Jenny insisted that they β€œshouldn’t have” but took the gifts with grace. Checks were deposited into an aquamarine objet d’art that was stationed just inside the front door. It was, doubtless, a terrifyingly expensive piece of glasswork, but Jenny was blasΓ©. β€œJust toss the donations into the vase there and come in to where all the fun is.” Stripped of their checks and armed with a champagne flute each, they were ushered into the drawing room. Popsy got the distinct impression that they were being herded like cows. β€œCheers, to your health and future decisions.” She winked and clinked glasses with Sandra, and they headed into the fray. Popsy and Sandra had a way of working a party. They would arrive together, then drift apart to mingle, but then they would drift back together again at regular intervals when either one of them needed moral support. This way they got to meet interesting new people but had each other as backup if they were a little lost. This method had worked well for them over the last thirteen years. It didn’t take long before Popsy was standing in front of the muchdiscussed Renoir. It was larger than she expected, almost two feet by two feet, and the frame made it look even bigger. It was hardly surprising then that it took pride of place over the mantelpiece in Jenny Lennox’s enormous drawing room. β€œExquisite, isn’t it?” the lady beside Popsy inquired. β€œIt is beautiful. Isn’t she lucky? A genuine Renoir.” β€œIt better be genuine. Eddie paid a cool $100 million for it.” It was enough to make Popsy snap around to face the lady she was talking to as opposed to admiring the painting. β€œI’m sure it can’t have been that much. $100 million? That’s too expensive, isn’t it?” β€œCheap at the price.” The lady sniffed. Popsy wondered if perhaps her companion had drunk a little too much champagne. β€œHow do you work that out?” β€œThat’s what Jenny told him it would cost to stay in the marriage.” The redhead moved closer to whisper. β€œI understand that poor Eddie was caught being a naughty boy, and when Jenny discovered it, she threw him out. He begged her to take him back, which of course she did, but for a price. This little token of affection.” Popsy was incredulous. β€œThat’s a lot of affection,” she said and looked back at the painting. β€œYes, I hear it is a really good paintingβ€”La Petite Fille. Jenny tells me it’s a charming and irreverent portrayal of the hedonistic life and subtlety of lust in the late 1800s.” β€œAh.” Popsy felt the need for more champagne. β€œGood to know.” As far as she was concerned, it was just a really pretty painting done by a very famous artist. But wasn’t art full of hyperbole like that? Before she had to expand on her views, mercifully her art critic companion took her leave, which gave Popsy a few moments to admire the painting by herself. It was a true gem, beautiful, but how in tarnation did anything get to a value of $100 million? She understood how it could happen with diamonds and precious stones, but art? Wasn’t that subjective? β€œSo what do you think?” Sandra asked as she came up beside her. β€œI think it’s gorgeous, and did you know that it was a β€˜charming and irreverent portrayal of the hedonistic life and subtlety of lust in the late 1800s’?” Sandra looked at Popsy, arching her eyebrows. β€œI never would have guessed.” Popsy nodded. β€œI also heard that Eddie Lennox paid $100 million for it.” β€œIn fact, I had heard a rumor, but I wasn’t sure that it was true. Nice round figure. You know, in all likelihood it’ll be worth double that in twelve months. Do you get taxed on fine art appreciation?” Popsy pulled her friend closer and glanced around to ensure that nobody was within earshot. β€œYes, but did you hear why he bought it? I heard Jenny discovered he was having an affair. This is the peace offering, his β€˜get out of jail free card,’ if you will. A frigging Renoir.” Sandra said nothing and studied the painting. β€œDid you hear me, Sandy? Did you know about this? Was Eddie Lennox offside? Evidently he had a mistress. Well, I assume it’s had and not has if he’s bought the painting and the Lennoxs are all happy family again. At last, Sandra tore herself away from the painting and looked at her friend. β€œWho told you this?” β€œThat woman over there. The tall, striking strawberry-blonde.” Popsy gestured discreetly. β€œFigures.” Sandra sighed. β€œWhy?” β€œBecause she’s the mistress.”

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