Presumably working under the assumption that there's a novel out there for every profession, Rich (of Bare Essence fame) has written a book about the jewelry biz and one woman's meteoric rise in it. The lady goes by many names: As an abandoned kid in rural Pennsylvania, she's Madeleine Kathleen Dragoumis; then Madeleine Lathem once she takes the name of her adoptive mother, a schoolteacher who dies of cancer. Later, it's Jewel Dragoumis after she's studied jewelry craft in Germany and bedded her rich college chum's dad (transforming the old friend into a virulent enemy). In the 70's, sharing a Soho loft with the Soviet jeweler Sascha (and bearing him two little girls), she's Mrs. Robinovsky--until Sascha's Russian wife and kids turn up on the doorstep. So it's back to Jewel Dragoumis for a spell, while she makes a name for herself in the jewelry-designing world. But then an oilrich art collector, Allen Prescott, supplies a moniker with more cachet, and the funds to open the swank Fifth Avenue diadem dimestore, Bijoux. Meanwhile, all the giddy changes have turned Jewel into a work-obsessed crab. But an out-of-the-body experience following a cerebral hemorrhage will force her to clean house, dump Allen, spend a little quality time with the girls--and find a man whose name she can live with. Dinky in terms of plot, but gaudy with atmosphere. For beach consumption--after which it might double as a posh-restaurant guide to New York.