This Cinsault Rosé smells like a rose garden--lots of floral notes in the nose with hints of honeydew melon, maybe a little fresh apricots and maybe a tiny, tiny scent of lemon zest. The color is a deep salmon. This is deffo what my character, Giada, would call "orange wine". She sucks at wine description, in general, but she's not completely wrong here. But it's a pinkish orange and very pretty.
Actually, the Cinsault label is only mostly accurate, since this wine also contains about 15% Tempranillo grapes, which I think gives it a little structure and body. It's a lovely dry wine with a faint minerality. The tasting notes mention raspberries and strawberries. I've had rosés that taste of strawberry--and this isn't it. There could be a slight resemblance to raspberry ice, but overall, I stick to my fresh apricot and honeydew first impression.
I'd maybe pair this with a light pasta dish or salad, but honestly, I think it would go best with a cheese plate--one that includes Marcona almonds with fine herbs--or maybe a chilled fruit tart.
It actually puts me in mind of this scene from Touch of a Vanished Hand:
Sinead stalked off toward the kitchen wishing she were wearing shoes. Boots perhaps, with pointy toes perfect for kicking someone in the shins. Or a nice set of spiked heels; the kind that would really get his attention when she ground one of them into his instep. But really, just any kind of shoe would do. Anything that would make her feel a little less undressed.
By the time she got into the kitchen, she’d stopped fuming and started to think. She had enough salmon, and she could always wash more greens for the salad, but she’d only cooked enough of the tomatoes and rice for one. Dinner was going to be a bit skimpy, unless she got creative. She was going to have to improvise; maybe put out some appetizers to fill in the gaps.
“Would you like me to set the table?” Adam surprised her by asking.
“Okay,” she said, and then frowned. Perhaps another change of plans was called for. “Actually, I was planning on eating on the terrace, since I’m grilling the salmon out there.” But the terrace, especially at this time of evening, might be a little more romantic than was wise. “If you’d rather eat inside, however, we could--”
“No, the terrace is fine.” He smiled at her, as he gathered utensils and some plates. “I’ll just run this stuff out there.”
Sinead shook her head as she watched him go. Oh, shit. Why had she even mentioned the terrace? In fact, why hadn’t she just packed him a doggie bag of samples, and sent him away?
But she already knew the answers; she just didn’t want to think too much about what they might mean.
She reached into the refrigerator for the bowl of olive tapenade she’d made that afternoon. She’d planned on using it on her sandwich tomorrow, but since there was no longer going to be a sandwich, it would do very well for an appetizer. She was just arranging the dip on a plate, along with some of the stuffed grape leaves she’d also made that afternoon, when she heard music wafting in from outside. Great, he’d found her CDs. Even better, he’d chosen Santana; and one of his slow, romantic, meltingly sweet songs, at that. Surely there was nothing more seductive. The night just kept getting better. What else could go wrong?
“You know,” Adam said as he strolled back into the kitchen. “I hadn’t realized how overgrown those vines had become. I’ll have the gardeners come out here first thing next week and pull them down.”
Well, that answered that question. Sinead stared at him, aghast. “Pull them down?” The vines in question were beautiful. Covered in deep blue morning glories, they were one of the things she loved most about the terrace.
Adam raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”
Yes! she wanted to yell. They add beauty and hurt nothing, they’re vibrant and cheerful--but they were his. As was the terrace and the house, and everything else she could point at; something she’d do well to remember. She shook her head. “No. Of course it’s not.”
“Well, then what’s wrong?”
She sighed. “It’s just...they’re so pretty. Especially in the morning, when the sun shines through their leaves? I thought it would be nice to serve breakfast there, occasionally.” She shrugged. “But it was just an idea.”
Adam nodded. “Okay, well, forget it then.”
Stung, Sinead turned away, hoping he hadn’t seen the disappointment in her eyes. What had she been expecting him to say, anyway?
She busied herself for several minutes slicing up French bread to serve with the tapenade, and then piling the pieces into one of the new breadbaskets she’d bought. “So, when should I expect the gardeners?” she asked as she handed him the basket, hoping for a tone of cool disinterest. He’d already eaten most of the grape leaves, she couldn’t help noticing, too bad he hadn’t choked on them.
He paused, with a half-eaten dolma in his hand. “Well, they’re not scheduled to come back until the Thursday after next, I think. But I can get them here sooner, if you need something. Why? What do you want them for?”
She sighed. “No, I mean when are they coming to pull down the vines?”
“I thought you liked the vines?” he asked, looking puzzled. He popped the rest of the appetizer into his mouth. “Didn’t you just say you wanted to keep them?”
“Well, yes, of course, I do,” she admitted. “But--”
He nodded once more. “Right. So we’ll leave them then.”
She stared at him. “Just like that?”
He looked surprised. “I want you to be happy here, Sinead,” he said as he reached for the last dolma. “Besides, I told you last week I’d give you whatever you wanted.” He took a bite, and shrugged. “And, hey, if the only thing you ask me for is to leave some shaggy, old vine alone, I figure I’m getting off easy.”
So, okay, as far as gestures went, maybe it wasn’t all that grand, but it was still one of the nicest things anyone had done for her in a long while, and she was touched. Sinead blinked rapidly as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She’d like to say thank you, but if she did, she’d start crying for sure. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked instead.
If Adam noticed the quaver in her voice, he didn’t show it. He scooped up some tapenade with a piece of bread and nodded. “Sure, what d’you have?”
Sinead had to think for a moment. “Lavender lemonade, raspberry iced tea, cranberry juice...oh, and I bought some beer. Black & Tan. That might go well with the dip.”
He looked amused as his eyes met hers again. “What? No wine?”
“Well, no, actually.”
The amusement disappeared. “You’re kidding?”
“Well, no,” she answered, annoyed that her own nice gesture was being so poorly received. She’d only bought the one six pack, after all, and she hadn’t planned on having to share it. She’d only mentioned it to be nice. Besides, “I picked up most of the stuff for dinner at the grocery store in town. They don’t sell your wines there, you know, and I didn’t imagine you’d appreciate my supporting your competition.”
“In the grocery store? That’s not my competition,” Adam scoffed. “Why didn’t you just stop at the tasting room, and pick some up?”
Sinead shrugged. She had stopped there, and tried to buy a bottle, but the servers had apparently been instructed to give her whatever she wanted, and wouldn’t take her money. Everyone knew there were no paying guests staying here yet. Not wanting to be seen as a freeloader, she’d left empty handed.
“Well, anyway, that’s easy enough to fix,” Adam said as he pulled out his cell phone. “Hey, Manuel, it’s me. Listen, I need you to do me a favor...oh. Carlo. Hi.”
Sinead watched as Adam grimaced. Something tightened almost painfully in the pit of her stomach. Carlo again. There was something not-right about that situation. Something a little too volatile.
“Okay, look, never mind that right now. We can deal with that after you get back on Monday,” Adam was saying into the phone. “Do we have anyone there who can run some wine out to the farmhouse for me?”
He grimaced again, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “No, no, of course not. I understand. No, never mind, forget it. Have a good trip. I’ll handle it myself.”
Adam sighed as he returned the phone to his pocket.
“Problems?” Sinead asked.
He shook his head. “It’s just that sometimes I can’t tell who’s supposed to be running this place. Me or Carlo. I’m not so sure he knows, either. He’s going out of town this weekend, and I really think he believes the place will fall apart in his absence.”
Sinead said nothing. She was pretty sure that Carlo wasn’t at all uncertain. It was clear he thought he, rather than Adam, should be running things, but it seemed wiser not to say so.
“Listen, how long until we eat?” Adam asked.
She was still feeling pretty happy about his promise not to cut down the vines, so she shrugged. “We can eat whenever you want to. I just have to grill the salmon--that won’t take long. Everything else is ready.”
“Okay, good. Let’s hold off a bit then, if that’s okay. I’ll be right back.”
“You’re going somewhere?” she was startled into asking, as he headed for the door.
“I won’t be more than half an hour,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m just going to get you some wine.”
Terrific, Sinead thought. First he gives her flowers--in a manner of speaking--and now wine. What was next, chocolate? Jewelry? It was getting even harder to keep thoughts of romance out of her head. Gestures were all very well, but she hated being in anyone’s debt. Perhaps she’d use the time while he was gone to make dessert. That would go a long way toward balancing things out. And while she was at it, maybe she’d take the chance and change into something more suitable for the occasion. Nothing fancy, of course. Just something that would make her feel less like Cinderella before the whole pumpkin incident began.
Touch of a Vanished Hand
Oberon Book 5.0
https://books2read.com/TouchHand
Sinead Quinn has always been something of a drifter. But now, with her ex-husband trying to blackmail her, and her ex-boyfriend's widow trying to put her in jail, she has no choice but to go to ground. What better place to hide than with your family? After all, what are sisters for? Especially when you're a twin.
But the first rule of hiding out, is to keep a low profile. And that does not mean kissing your sister's boyfriend (even if he can't tell the two of you apart); rescuing a troubled teen; or taking a highly visible job as hostess of Oberon's most celebrated new inn.
Adam Sasso has always dreamed big. But big dreams beget big complications. First, his goal to turn the vineyard he inherited from his grandfather into a world-class winery is threatened by a mysterious saboteur. Next, his plan to run the finest bed & breakfast Oberon has ever seen, is broadsided by a hostess who wants to run him. Finally, it seems his fondest wish, of finding love-everlasting with the soul mate of his dreams, is about to go up in smoke when he can't convince her that they're destined to be together.
This summer, it's going to take all the wizardry in Oberon to craft a happy ending for the drifter and the dreamer.
I'm excited for this book, which is set to take place the same Christmas as my short story, I'll Be Home for Christmas, which will also be releasing in December. THAT story is very paranormal. It was HUGE fun to write and it DOES have a happy ending, but the H/H get short-changed on a lot of the fun and all of the sexytimes.
