Danielle Steel - Daddy

CRITICAL RAVES FOR

DANIELLE STEEL“STEEL IS ONE OF THE BEST!”— Los Angeles Times “THE PLOTS OF DANIELLE STEEL'S NOVELS TWIST AND WEAVE AS INCREDIBLE STORIES UNFOLD TO THE DELIGHT OF HER ENORMOUS READING PUBLIC!”—United Press International“Ms. Steel's fans won't be disappointed!”— The New York Times Book Review “Steel writes convincingly about universal human emotions.”— Publishers Weekly “One of the world's most popular authors.”— The Baton Rouge Sun A LITERARY GUILD DUAL MAIN SELECTION

A DOUBLEDAY BOOK CLUB MAIN SELECTION“ENTIRELY PLAUSIBLE … VERY MUCH ABOUT 'REAL' PEOPLE … DADDY HAS MORE MALE TEARS THAN YOU FIND IN YOUR AVERAGE NOVEL—BUT THEN, OLIVER'S IS A FOUR-HANDKERCHIEF SITUATION.”— Daily News (New York)“A REFRESHING NEW TANGENT … A WELL-DONE, OFFBEAT STORY.” —Los Angeles Times “A BITTERSWEET STORY … IT'S DIFFICULT TO TURN THE PAGES FAST ENOUGH.”— US magazine“CAPTIVATING … A GREAT STORY, A REAL PAGE-TURNER, FULL OF INSIGHT AND COMPASSION AND CHARACTERS THAT WILL TUG AT YOUR HEART AS THEY STRUGGLE WITH THE CHANGES IN THEIR LIVES. YOU'LL WANT TO CHEER THEM ON AS THEY LEARN TO COPE… STEEL IS AT THE TOP OF HER BEST-SELLING FORM.”— Houston Chronicle “MAY EVEN BE THE BEST OF THE TWO DOZEN NOVELS STEEL HAS MINED IN 17 YEARS.”— Fort Worth Morning Star-Telegram “THERE AREN'T ANY SLOW MOMENTS, AND THE THREE GENERATIONS GIVE THE AUTHOR A LARGE CANVAS ON WHICH TO SKETCH IN DE TAILS OF SINGLE PARENTHOOD, ROMANCE, AND MODERN SEX IN AN EVER-CHANGING WORLD.” —Richmond Times-Dispatch “FAST-PACED PLOTTING.”— The Plain Dealer (Cleveland)“ONE COUNTS ON DANIELLE STEEL FOR A STORY THAT ENTERTAINS AND INFORMS … IT WOULD BE HARD TO FIND A BETTER BIT OF POPULAR FICTION FOR READING ON A COLD NIGHT.”— The Chattanooga Times “A PAGE-TURNER … [WE] GROW TO CARE ABOUT HER CHARACTERS … FRESH, NEW … HER MOST INTERESTING AND UNIQUE NOVEL IN MANY YEARS.”— Rave Reviews “STEEL CONTINUES TO DO WHAT SHE DOES VERY, VERY WELL.” —Kirkus Reviews

Books by Danielle Steel

DATING GAME JEWELS ANSWERED PRAYERS NO GREATER LOVE SUNSET IN ST. TROPEZ HEARTBEAT THE COTTAGE MESSAGE FROM NAM THE KISS DADDY LEAP OF FAITH STAR LONE EAGLE ZOYA JOURNEY KALEIDOSCOPE THE HOUSE ON HOPE STREET FINE THINGS THE WEDDING WANDERLUST IRRESISTIBLE FORCES SECRETS GRANNY DAN FAMILY ALBUM BITTERSWEET FULL CIRCLE MIRROR IMAGE CHANGES HIS BRIGHT LIGHT! THURSTON HOUSE THE STORY OF NICK TRAINA CROSSINGS THE KLONE AND I ONCE IN A LIFETIME THE LONG ROAD HOME A PERFECT STRANGER THE GHOST REMEMBRANCE SPECIAL DELIVERY PALOMINO THE RANCH LOVE: POEMS SILENT HONOR THE RING MALICE LOVING FIVE DAYS IN PARIS TO LOVE AGAIN LIGHTNING SUMMER'S END WINGS SEASON OF PASSION THE GIFT THE PROMISE ACCIDENT NOW AND FOREVER VANISHED PASSION'S PROMISE MIXED BLESSINGS GOING HOME

Visit the Danielle Steel Web Site at:

www.damellesteel.comDELL PUBLISHING.

DADDY

Daddy

a cognizant original v5 release october 14 2010

Chapter 1

The snowflakes fell in big white clusters, clinging together like a drawing in a fairy tale, just like in the books Sarah used to read to the children. She sat at the typewriter, looking out the window, watching snow cover the lawn, hanging from the trees like lace, and she completely forgot the story she'd been chasing around in her head since early that morning. It was so damn picturesque. So pretty. Everything was pretty here. It was a storybook life in a storybook town, and the people around her seemed like storybook people. They were exactly what she had never wanted to become, and now she was one of them, and had been for years. And probably always would be. Sarah MacCormick, the rebel, the assistant editor of the Crimson, the girl who had graduated from Radcliffe in 1969 at the top of her class and knew she was different, had become one of them. Overnight. Or almost. In truth, it had taken almost twenty years. And now she was Sarah Watson. Mrs. Oliver Wendell Watson. She lived in Purchase, New York, in a beautiful house they almost owned, after fourteen years of struggling with the mortgage. She had three children, one dog, the last hamster had finally died the year before. And she had a husband she loved. Dear sweet Ollie. He graduated from Harvard Business School when she finished Radcliffe, and they'd been in love since her sophomore year. But he was everything that she wasn't. He was conservative when she was wild, he had believed in what they had tried to do in Vietnam, and for a while she had hated him for it. She had even stopped seeing him for a time after graduation, because she insisted that they were too different She had gone to live in SoHo, in New York, and tried to write, and she'd actually done pretty well. She'd been published twice in The Atlantic Monthly, and once … holy of holies … in The New Yorker. She was good and she knew it. And Oliver lived uptown, in an apartment he shared with two friends on East 79th Street, and with his MBA, he got a pretty good job in an ad agency on Madison Avenue. She wanted to hate him for it, wanted to hate him for conforming, but she didn't. Even then, she knew how much she loved him.

He talked about things like living in the country, having Irish setters, wanting four kids, and a wife who didn't work, and she made fun of him for it. But he just grinned that incredible boyish grin that made her heart pound even then … even when she pretended to herself that what she really wanted was a man with hair longer than her own … an artist … a sculptor … a writer … someone “creative.” Oliver was creative, and he was smart. He had graduated magna from Harvard, and the trends of the sixties had never touched him. When she marched, he fished her out of jail, when she argued with him, even calling him names, he explained quietly and rationally what he believed in. And he was so damn decent, so good-hearted, he was her best friend, even when he made her angry. They would meet in the Village sometimes, or uptown for coffee, or drinks, or lunch, and he would tell her what he was doing and ask her about the latest piece she was writing. He knew she was good, too, but he didn't see why she couldn't be “creative” and married.

“… Marriage is for women who are looking for someone to support them. I want to take care of myself, Oliver Watson.” And she was capable of it, or she had been then, after a fashion. She had worked as a part-time gallery sitter in SoHo, and a free-lance writer. And she'd made money at it. Sometimes. But now, sometimes, she wondered if she would still be able to take care of herself, to support herself, to fill out her own tax forms, and make sure her health insurance hadn't lapsed. In the eighteen years they'd been married, she'd become so dependent on him. He took care of all the little problems in her life, and most of the big ones. It was like living in a hermetically sealed world, with Ollie always there to protect her.

She counted on him for everything, and more often than not, it scared her. What if something happened to him? Could she manage? Would she be able to keep the house, to support herself, or the kids? She tried to talk to him about it sometimes, and he only laughed, and told her she'd never have to worry.