The first thing you'll notice about this wine is the label, which wraps around the bottle like a strip of film. It's clever and eye-catching and I'll admit I spent way too much time wondering it they made a special machine to apply the labels, or whether they were all put on by hand. Either way it seems like a ton of work for a mid-tier wine. But, then again, I'm equally unimpressed by the current trend of producing special edition books, so perhaps that's just me.
Don't get me wrong. I think sprayed edges and metallic accents, etc, are gorgeous, and I love me some gorgeous covers, but at the end of the day the words on the page and the wine inside the bottle are what I'm most interested in.
(That's my grandson's hand in the picture, btw. He's attempting to remove the bottle. Because, as you can see, I'd plunked it down in the middle of his Legos.)
Anyway...this was a 2018 vintage from Sonoma County. 2017 and 2018 were two of the worst fire seasons in recent California history. I was living just outside Napa at that time and I swear I could smell a very familiar smokiness as soon as I opened this bottle.
I don't think it's smoke taint, which is a thing that apparently makes wine undrinkable, because this was a very good wine--complex and layered with good legs and soft tannins--but it's smoky, for sure.
I suspect it's a matter of terroir because I taste ash (call it minerality, if you like) and wild fennel and maybe some hints of lavender and sage and I can remember how the scent of cold ashes lingered everywhere. And how, after the fires of 2017 the bare, burned hillsides turned green with renewed life in the Spring of 2018...only to burn again the following Fall.
It's an opulent wine, but not jammy at all. It's dry and a tad acerbic with notes of cocoa and cassis. My mother used to make a dish of Cornish game hens stuffed with wild rice that she served with a flaming, tart cherry and brandy sauce. It was the seventies, what can I say? This wine would've paired perfectly with that. Or with a dark chocolate dessert. Mousse, perhaps. Or, dare I say it? S'mores.
It's true, but yeah...it's probably still too soon for that.
This week, on the Romance Writers Weekly blog hop, we're asked to " Choose a photo that you’ve taken and that you love. Tell the story behind the photo."
This was unexpectedly easy. I took this picture of my five-year-old grandson last September at his first ever soccer game. Which took place three days after his first ever soccer practice.
It looks like an ad for Nike or something, doesn't it? I mean, if Nike sponsored kindergarten-aged athletes. He looks all serious and intent, like he knows what he's doing...
Yeah, not so much. Although he did manage to score a goal. woo-hoo! And his team, the Hypno Toads (gotta love it) won the game.
But here's the back story. This photo wasn't actually shot during the game. It was taken while the team was on a break. Half time maybe? I don't know the nomenclature. But the kids were seated on the other side of the field and since my eyesight sucks I was using the telephoto lens of my phone's camera to see what they were doing. When the kiddo started running towards me, I quickly fired off a couple of shots, of which this was one.
Where was he going? What did he want? Easy. The game was about to resume, but he had just learned that there was a snack stand selling snow cones. So he was rushing over to ask me if he could get one after the game.
Five-year-olds. Am I right?
Now, hop on over to Jenna Da Sie's page to view her favorite pic.
Scent of the Roses
For years, Scout Patterson has tried to run from the mistakes in her past. Now, she's coming home--to face the ghosts she's never laid to rest, and the love she thought she'd lost forever.
Memories and dreams are the only things that have gotten Nick Greco through the past twenty years. Memories of the girl he loved and lost, and dreams of what his life would be like, if he could only find her again. And if he can bring himself to believe that anything she tells him is true.
Can the star-crossed lovers put aside the hurt and distrust they still harbor toward each other? Or will the evil which already nearly destroyed them once, triumph yet again?
I originally went looking for a different version of the song, but then I came across this video for the movie Once Upon a Time in Hollywood--which I haven't seen and don't really have much interest in.
It's like the movie Titanic (which I also haven't seen). You have a real life tragedy and real people died, so why would you want to make a movie about it and invent fictional people who can also die? Why add to the actual tragedy? Or take away from it, for that matter?
But I digress.
This video is giving me serious Nick and Scout-as-a-teenager vibes, which is why I'm posting this excerpt:
Looking back, Nick could see that he had been a damned idiot not to guess the truth that very first night. He had been completely taken in by the ridiculous stories she told him. The nameless friends and relations who just happened to have mentioned his cousins to her. The vague plans for the future. The pathologically over-protective parents who wouldn’t let her date, or even receive phone calls. The theft of her car, which had necessitated her hitching a ride home.
On some level, he knew he simply hadn’t wanted to see the truth. His instincts must have been screaming warnings, but he’d suppressed every one.
He was so busy thanking his lucky stars he’d found her, he didn’t even spare a thought to wonder why, when he’d never seen her before, he was suddenly running into her everywhere he went. After the third time in one week that he’d run across her hitching a ride somewhere, he’d stopped to lecture her about the dangers. He was in his squad car the time. His partner, Dave, listened to the exchange in disbelief.
“Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get yourself into doing this?” Nick asked, as she smiled at him from the curb, totally unrepentant, her arms crossed casually just below her breasts. He tried not to pay too much attention to the subtle sway of her hips as she rocked slowly from foot to foot.
“Yeah. But, uh, you know, how else am I supposed to meet guys?” Her eyes, half hidden beneath long lashes, gleamed wickedly.
Cute look. But he was being serious. And he didn’t much like the idea of her trying to meet guys, anyway. He frowned. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Jen. And, trust me. The kind of guy you’re likely to run into that way could be very bad news.”
“I guess you’re right.” She bit her lip, looking suddenly troubled. “I met you that way, didn’t I?”
“Well, but,” he broke off, somewhat startled, himself. “That was different. You just got lucky.”
“Hmm.” The corner of her mouth kicked up. She narrowed her eyes. “You know, Nick, I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line.”
“Is it?”
“Could be,” she answered softly, as her smile grew slowly wider. Her voice sent warm tremors running all through him. “Are you feeling lucky, Nick?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m feeling very lucky. C’mon, hop in. I’ll give you a ride.”
“Uhh . . . I don’t know if that’s such a good idea today.” She glanced again at Dave, and frowned.
“Jesus. Man, are you out of your fuckin’ mind?” Dave hissed. “Look at her, Nick. The girl is jailbait.”
“The hell I am.” Her head reared back and she planted her fists on her hips, and all Nick could think about for a few moments was the way her crop top hugged her midriff as she stood on the sidewalk, taking deep, angry breaths.
“Oh yeah?” Dave leaned across him to challenge her. “So, tell me kid, just how old-”
“Okay! Enough,” Nick interrupted, feeling suddenly irritated. Feeling suddenly, a whole lot less lucky, as well. “C’mon, Jen, get in the car. Where were you going, anyway?”
She hesitated for almost a minute, and then she smiled again, slow and sensuous, looking deep into his eyes, as if they were the only two people in the whole world. “I wasn’t actually going anywhere,” she answered, cocking her head to one side. “I was just kind of, you know, hoping I’d run into you again.”
He returned the smile. “Well, we could actually arrange to meet each other somewhere, you know. I’m thinking it might a whole lot be safer for you.” What he was really thinking was that it might be a whole lot more private, as well.
She lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “’kay.”
“So. What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing I can’t get out of,” she said with a smile.
“How’s the bowling alley sound? About seven, seven thirty?”
“You want to go bowling?” she asked, sounding about equal parts surprised and doubtful.
“No.” It was his turn to smile, and then smile wider, as he watched awareness flood her face with color.
“Oh. Okay, uh, sure.”
“Good. I’ll see you then. Sure you don’t want a ride now?”
She sneaked another look at Dave and rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure. I’ll see you later, Nick.”
For years, Scout Patterson has tried to run from the mistakes in her past. Now, she's coming home—to face the ghosts she's never laid to rest, and the love she thought she'd lost forever. Reawakening that love would be a dream come true. Unfortunately, love is not the only emotion that can last forever.
Memories and dreams are the only things that have gotten Nick Greco through the past twenty years. Memories of the girl he loved and lost, and dreams of what his life would be like, if he could only find her again. And if he can bring himself to believe that anything she tells him is true.
Can the star-crossed lovers put aside the hurt and distrust they still harbor toward each other? Or will the evil which already nearly destroyed them once, triumph yet again?
I'm sure I've mentioned how much I love Viognier. Hands down it's my favorite white wine. Which is ironic considering that my favorite wine drinking friend--who loves white wine the way I love red--absolutely abhors Viognier. (a fact which I forget on a regular basis, and in much the same way that I forget that my pie-loving son dislikes rhubarb pie.)
But to continue...
Today's wine is a very nice Viognier from Westcave Cellars in Johnson City. Up until now, Johnson City has simply been the place where we stop to charge our Tesla on the way to Fredericksburg. But after trying this wine...I think we should stop there for more than that.
The main aroma is pear drop candy--sweet and fruity with hints of vanilla. The tasting notes from Westcave mention jasmine and citrus but I'm getting none of that. On the other hand, pear drop candy has a luscious smell, so I'm not missing the floral notes at all. On the palate it's dry and complex and I definitely get the citrus notes there. In fact there's almost a Limoncello flavor to it--except dry. There's also a very green, herbal flavor to it and, after breathing for awhile, a more pronounced saline flavor
This is a very drinkable wine. Viognier has always been my go-to wine for picnics, but this is not a bread-and-cheese kind of wine at all. It's a little too complex for that. I'd pair this with dessert--rhubarb pie, for example--or maybe fresh oysters or a very simple pasta dish--Aglio e Olio, or Pasta al Limone.
Or, you know, you could just drink it by itself. That would work too.
This week, on the Romance Writers Weekly blog hop, we're asked "What common mistakes or misunderstandings do readers have about authors? What myths or half-truths do you find yourself hearing again and again?"
Ooh, this is hard. I think the biggest misconception has to do with how much control authors have over what they write or the publishing process as a whole. If you're traditionally published, you're not setting prices or choosing covers or making the decision to release a book in different formats--print, audiobook, etc. There are more rules to follow and if a series isn't selling well, your publisher is unlikely to keep publishing more books--no matter how much your readers might want them.
And, just FYI, if you're a reader who doesn't like to start a new series until all the books are out? Well...you should know that you're a big part of the reason why some series don't get finished.
Oh, and while a lot of people (and Goodreads) consider 3 stars a "good" rating, Amazon does NOT. If you give a book a 3 star rating that's considered a negative review and authors have the added handicap of not being able to advertise their books on certain venues, or have their books reviewed by some of the most popular review sites.
Another fun fact: if you're indie published and you want your ebooks to be available at a wide variety of venues, you can't put your books in KU. At all. So, again, if you're a reader who only reads books in KU, and you wish more of your favorite authors would offer their books there--take it up with Amazon.
Geez, I'm getting depressed. This business is not for the faint hearted. I'm done now.
Now, hop on over to Leslie Hachtel's pageto learn what she has to say on the subject! And don't forget to check out her book, Adriana.
Fleeing for her life, Adriana Booth has come aboard Robert Stuart's ship disguised as an old woman. She is smitten with the captain, so the night before they reach land, she discards her masquerade and sneaks into his cabin. In the morning she disappears, but he is determined to find her, which puts her life at risk.
Today's song is in honor of the Texas Heat shared-world series, which is due to release next January but is available for pre-order now!
My story in the series is Fall For You (which will also be the first book in my new Heartwood, Texas series).
I haven't actually started writing this story yet, but you can sign up for my newsletter for updates. And this song will definitely be on the playlist.
Located in the heart of the Texas Hill Country, the small town of Heartwood is a charming and welcoming place where you'll instantly feel at home.
Tessa Barnes couldn’t wait to leave Heartwood in her rearview mirror—even if it meant breaking two hearts in the process. Now, with her career on hiatus and her great-aunt in need of help as she recovers from concussion, Tess finds herself right back where she started, older but not much wiser, and about to make all the same mistakes all over again.
Cooper Donahue doesn’t believe in looking back. As the chef/manager of his family’s new farm-to-table restaurant, he’s got his hands full. With a goal of turning his legacy into a must-see, Hill Country destination, his focus is on the future. The past? He’d rather that stayed buried. The last thing he needs (or wants) is to dig up those old feelings or fall back in love with his ex—especially when she’s already got one foot out the door. Again.
This wine was a lovely surprise. As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, a lot of people won't drink Chardonnay for...reasons. I don't know why other than because it became fashionable, in the late 90s, to exclaim ABC! (Anything But Chardonnay) when ordering wine. It's kind of ignorant, if you ask me. It's like hating on ALL rosés just because so much White Zinfandel is crap.
Chardonnay can be big and bold and buttery, with all the oakiness that I, personally, love. OR it can be as clean and crisp as a Pinot Grigio or Sauvignon Blanc.
Today's wine comes from Becker Vineyards in Texas. It's a wonderfully complex wine. Aged in French Oak sur lie (meaning "on the lees"). Lees are the dead yeast cells that accumulate at the bottom of the barrel, so basically what this means is that the wine isn't racked while it's aging. Did you ever see the movie Bottle Shock? Do you remember how they were constantly racking their wines? This is the opposite of that.
I didn't get a lot of aroma--which might be due to my recent congestion--but what I did get reminded me of baked apples; lots of fruit and caramel and spices. The mouthfeel was rich and almost chewy, almost like a dry mead.
It reminds me quite a bit of the Chardonnay put out by the St Clair Brown Winery & Brewery in downtown Napa. And that's saying a lot because their Chardonnay is outstanding! I had it for Thanksgiving dinner back in 2015, I think. And I've been lusting after it ever since I moved away. So I was delighted to find this so close to my new home.
This week, on the Romance Writers Weekly blog hop, we're asked, "What are you most grateful for in your life today?"
That's actually a really hard question. There's so much I'm grateful for--friends and family, my health, the fact that I live in a beautiful place and have the freedom to spend so much of my time writing.
Honestly, there are so many things--big and little--that I've been blessed with and that I'd hate having to do without.
I overheard something today that kind of put it in perspective for me. Someone was talking about their dog and saying how she was spoiled rotten. And someone else corrected her and said, "No, she's spoiled just right." Which I think was a very good answer.
I think we all deserve to be spoiled just right. And I hope that, most of the time, we all will be.
He knows what to do to save her business. She knows what he needs to fix his life!
Atlas Beach is experiencing a retail-renaissance—and Carly Meyer is determined to be part of it. But her sandwich shop-slash-food-truck, The Lunch Box, is struggling to stay afloat.
Luckily, help is on the way thanks to the Chamber of Commerce’s innovative mentoring program—partnering successful Atlas Beach business owners with some of the newer start-ups. Too bad the mentor assigned to her is the delectable—and highly annoying—Tino DiLuca.
Tino knows exactly what’s hurting Carly’s business and—exactly how to fix it. But his number one solution, changing the name of her signature sandwich, is the one thing she’s not prepared to do.
I mean, c'mon. What other song could I possibly pick for today? I'm not even going to try and explain it. For those of you (like me) who'll be spending several minutes in the path of totality, happy viewing! And don't forget your glasses!
Tonight's wine is soooo good and I'm surprised. I would have said nothing could beat a Napa Cabernet and that Paso Robles--to me--is all about the Zinfandel. But this Cabernet might change my mind. The first thing I noticed after opening it was the very pronounced fig jam fragrance with possibly small dark cherry notes. To be honest, it seemed a little one dimensional. But after it had been breathing for awhile dried blackberry and tobacco notes emerged.
It's got great legs and some surprisingly serious tannins--again something I'd associate with Paso Zins. So maybe it's just something in Paso's terroir? I don't know, but either way I love it. The spiced fig flavor is still there, which suggests that this would be a great wine to enjoy during the winter holidays. But again, after letting it breathe it really opens up and I taste vanilla, more tobacco, and a delicious smoky flavor evoking campfires and summer nights.
My first experience of California wine was when I was a newlywed camping in the redwoods just outside of San Francisco. Our campsite neighbors were an older couple in an RV. They grilled oysters on their camp stove and shared the wine they'd picked up in Napa that day with us. This wine takes me right back there.
This wine would be perfect at a bonfire on a cool midsummer's night--something you get a lot of along California's coast, and not at all here in Texas. So I plan on getting another bottle of this to drink next weekend to celebrate the eclipse.
This week, on the Romance Writers Weekly blog hop, we're asked to "Write a flash fiction with the words spring, boat, and shadow"
“Thanks for coming out with me today,” I told my cousin. The sharp glance he shot in my direction had me quickly amending, “For doing this, I mean. For me.” Because he wasn’t just accompanying me, or assisting me, he was doing all the heavy lifting in getting the boat ready for the season.
“’Course,” he answered gruffly, which caused me to wonder. Was he doing it for me? And, if so, was it out of pity? Or was he doing it for my mom, who couldn’t yet come to terms with my father’s death and wouldn’t listen to my suggestion that she sell the boat. Maybe he was doing it to honor the memory of my dad—that was a possibility. He always seemed to get along with my dad better than anyone else did. Certainly, better than I did. “I mean, someone had to, right?”
“I—” I started, then stopped again and nodded, blinking back the tears which suddenly threatened to overflow my eyes. Damned hormones making me weepy again. They’d have to settle down eventually, wouldn’t they? At least I hoped they would. “I know. I just—”
“And no one would’ve expected you to do it,” Rocky added, leveling a teasing smile at my new manicure. “Not without breaking those nails you’re rocking.”
Probably true, I thought as I stretched out my fingers to admire the long, blue marble, nails accented with rhinestones. “They’re nautical,” I said then blushed because, God, that sounded stupid. Even though—deep blue swirled with white, it was sort of true.
“Yep. That’s exactly what I thought when I first saw them,” Rocky said eyes twinkling as he went back to tinkering with the engine, inspecting the fuel hose…I think…before moving on to whatever was next on his list. It’s funny because I’d done this for years with him and my dad—every damn Spring—and I still hadn’t managed to wrap my mind around the steps or the order or…any of it, really.
Then Rocky’s words sank in. “Oh, bullshit. You did not.”
He laughed then, lips stretching into the DiLuca smile. “Okay, you got me. My first thought was, ‘who’d have guessed you’d’ve turned out to be such a girly girl?’ But eventually I’d have gotten there. Just look at what you’re wearing.”
Which was fair, I supposed, glancing down at my fit. The cuffed denim shorts. The off-the-shoulder, navy and white striped top. The indigo boat shoes, which had been blinged out with even more rhinestones than my nails. “My dad would have hated this, wouldn’t he?”
“No doubt,” Rocky scoffed. Then his expression shifted—as though he’d seen the shadow his words had cast over my mood. “It’s a very sexy look, G. He’d have hated that.”
“That’s not why,” I said blinking fast once again as I turned my gaze toward the water. I gestured at myself. “He wouldn’t have understood…any of this.”
“Not at first,” Rocky agreed. “But he’d have come around.”
“You don’t know that’s true.” I turned to glare at my cousin, hating the look on his face. It was pity, I was sure of it. “You can’t possibly know that would have been the case.”
“And you can’t know it’s not. So why borrow trouble? Why torture yourself with what might have been? He loved you, G. And I think what he would have wanted most for you was for you to be happy. Are you happy now?” he asked, his hand waving up and down as he mimicked the gesture I’d just used.
Not entirely, I thought, remembering all the things in my life that still weren’t quite the way I wanted. “I’m happier,” I replied, which was true. And as for the rest, I was getting there. I tossed my head and added, “I’m a work in progress.”
“Yeah. Aren’t we all?”
This time I didn’t call bullshit, even though I was pretty sure that’s what I was hearing. Rocky lived up to his name. He was as solid and unchanging as a slab of granite. Always had been. Or so it had always seemed to me—which might or might not be true. Either way, nothing would convince me that he wasn’t the son my father would have always liked to have had. Which I guess was for the best since I was never going to be that for him anyway.
But he was right about not borrowing trouble. So, I crossed my arms and changed the subject. “Are you almost done here? ’Cause it’s late and I’m getting hungry.” And I’d promised him lunch.
“Well, the sooner you stop distracting me, the sooner I’ll be finished,” he answered as he turned back toward the engine. “And, girl, I hope you brought the big checkbook, because I’m the one doing all the work here and I passed hungry a few hours ago.”
“Yeah, yeah, poor you,” I said, happy to be back on teasing terms, my heart warming at the easy way the endearment slipped off his tongue. Because if the Rock could accept me as I was, maybe everyone else whose opinion I cared about could too.
He knows what to do to save her business. She knows what he needs to fix his life!
Atlas Beach is experiencing a retail-renaissance—and Carly Meyer is determined to be part of it. But her sandwich shop-slash-food-truck, The Lunch Box, is struggling to stay afloat.
Luckily, help is on the way thanks to the Chamber of Commerce’s innovative mentoring program—partnering successful Atlas Beach business owners with some of the newer start-ups. Too bad the mentor assigned to her is the delectable—and highly annoying—Tino DiLuca.
Tino knows exactly what’s hurting Carly’s business and—exactly how to fix it. But his number one solution, changing the name of her signature sandwich, is the one thing she’s not prepared to do.
