What can I say? They're all wrong, of course.
Anyway...it should surprise NO ONE who knows me even slightly that I love California wines. But, aspiring locavore that I am, I've been trying to drink more, and learn more about Texas wine. And, let me begin by saying that--in general--I think it's a mistake for wineries in Texas to attempt to grow Bordeaux Valley grapes. I've said the same about wineries in Temecula. I mean, seriously, wtf? Spanish Grapes. Sicilian grapes. Sangiovese, Tempranillo, Montepulciano, Albariño, Vermentino--maybe some Rousanne. That's what this climate is crying out for.
But, no. I'm sitting here looking at a glass of Merlot. And, to be fair, if I were eating Texas BBQ, this might be the perfect wine. It's light and dry and a little smoky with no legs whatsoever. Although at four years old, maybe that's not so surprising?
I would definitely let this wine BREATHE, which is not something I typically care about but in this case? Hell, yes. There was no discernible nose at all for the first ten minutes. A small amount of spiced fruit, maybe hints of dried blueberry, leather and cranberry.
I'd rate it quaffable for a meal centered around BBQ, queso, or pizza. All of which I'm suddenly very much in the mood for.
All that being said, however, I should perhaps point out that mine may not be the most reliable opinion in this instance. Merlot has never been my go-to for red wine. And now, it's not because of Sideways. I love Paul Giamatti but I worry that there's a special place waiting for him in the afterlife because of the way in which he caused Merlot sales and reputation to plummet.
No, I stayed away from Merlot because during the 80s and 90s it was my sister's red wine of choice. And I love my sister! And share her tastes in wine in many respects. In fact, when we lived near each other we used to have quarterly wine tasting dates at Frisby Winery in Lake Forest, CA. In fact we were there on March 15th, 2020 when the rumor went 'round that California was temporarily closing all bars in the state. And we LAUGHED because it was the most absurd idea! Ah, sweet Summer child...
But, in any case, she really likes Malbec right now so you can guess what wine I tend to steer clear of--only God knows why. Although I imagine a competent psychiatrist would have a few thoughts on the matter.
But to continue, I did a search for Merlot-themed excerpts from my books and found a couple. And, just so we're clear, by "Merlot-themed" I mean there's a mention of someone drinking Merlot. So if you were hoping for something deep and meaningful....ya ain't gonna find that here.
The scene I chose to share this All Saints Day, is a foreboding little piece that appears in the ninth Oberon book, which is not currently available.
It will be back next year, however, and in the meantime...
You can purchase the first two books in the series now. Book three is coming out in three weeks and is currently available for pre-order. Links for all three can be found on my website: https://www.pgforte.com/the-oberon-series along with all sorts of information, free reads, and fun extras. PLUS, if you care to join my FB reader group The Crone's Nest you can download an Oberon prequel--Such Fleeting Pleasures--for free.
Oh!! And I'm forgetting there's an odd little Christmas story available for a few weeks starting today. And I post about the various characters, locations, events, etc on the Oberon blog. So, if this excerpt sparks your interest, I promise to find ways to keep you entertained until you can get the entire series.
The following excerpt is from And Shadows Have Their Ending, the final book in the Oberon series. It's probably not as grim as that little picture might lead you to believe, but the last three books have their own story arc, so I picked line breaks in the same series for all three of them.
So, this scene...it would be hard to explain everything that's going on in this scene, because you'd have had to have read all the other books first. And then you wouldn't need to have it explained. So I'm simply going to leave it here. I call it, A Lawyer, an Angel, and a Cop Walk Into a Bar...
* * *
It was family night at Genovese’s Pizza and Pub and the whole place was abuzz with noise. Children ran about between the tables while pizza, the animated film that played on both TVs, and the menagerie of balloon animals being produced by a rainbow-costumed clown who’d set up shop in the rear of the restaurant vied for their attention. Jack observed the scene with distaste. Genovese’s was not his usual hangout––for precisely this reason. But, tonight, nothing was as usual.
The punk had been right. It hadn’t taken more than a couple of phone calls to confirm that the girl wasn’t dead. Even worse, she appeared to have gone missing. Now, in order to escape Gregg’s wrath, Jack would have to find her before the cops did and silence her in a way that wouldn’t look suspicious.
“Just how, in God’s name, am I supposed to do that?” he wondered angrily.
He wasn’t even aware he’d spoken aloud, until the stranger seated beside him replied, “You know, I would not have said there was anything that could not be done in His name. I see now that I was mistaken. I thank you, friend. I am indebted to you for showing me the error of my thinking.”
The noise around him seemed to recede as Jack favored the wise guy with a quelling scowl. “Do you mind?”
The stranger smiled genially. “No. Not at all. I’m just doing my job.”
“Your job?” Jack’s gaze swept over the man; taking in his long hair and the clothes he was wearing, shorts, sandals, Hawaiian shirt, with a single glance. “Why? Is the circus in town?”
An eager expression brightened the stranger’s eyes. “Is it? I haven’t heard. I hope so. I like the lions.”
“Whatever.” Not wishing to be suckered into any more of this absurd conversation, Jack turned back to his Merlot. The wine was just barely passable and he doubted that even consuming an entire bottle of it would produce the desired, anesthetizing effect. He’d have much preferred a good scotch, or a vodka martini. But he’d eschewed his usual choice of drink for the same reason he’d steered clear of his usual bar. He did not want to be seen drinking heavily tonight. He did not want to appear distressed or concerned. Apparently, however, that plan was not working out quite as well as he’d hoped.
“Perhaps there’s a reason you do not see your way clear in this endeavor, Jack. Perhaps your heart is urging you to turn away, to choose another path?”
Annoyed, Jack turned and glared at the man. “I’m sorry, have we met before?”
The stranger’s smile turned wistful. “Once. But, it was long ago. I do not wonder at your not remembering.”
Jack shook his head. No, he didn’t remember but, given the other man’s apparent lack of years, it couldn’t have been that long ago, either.
“Consider this,” the young man recited softly, “that in the course of justice, none of us should see salvation. We do pray for mercy, and that same prayer doth teach us all to render the deeds of mercy.”
“The Merchant of Venice.” Jack stared, as much surprised that he could recall the passage’s provenance as he was by the memory of the first time he’d heard it read aloud, back when he was still in junior high. His teacher’s voice, laden with emotion, had stirred Jack’s young soul. ‘It is an attribute to God, himself; and earthly power doth then show likest God’s when mercy seasons justice.’ It had made his father’s profession seem suddenly so noble..
The stranger smiled. “I thought, being a lawyer, you’d appreciate the wisdom of Portia’s offer. ‘Be merciful, take thrice thy money, bid me tear the bond’.”
Startled, Jack stared more closely at his companion. Despite the firm, and definitely masculine, angle of his jaw, there was something incongruously gentle, almost feminine, about his expression. Perhaps, it was just his youth. Though he’d appeared, at first glance, to be in his mid-twenties at most, but there was something in his eyes, an odd awareness that made Jack reconsider his initial assessment. The man beside him seemed somehow...ageless.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said, as he rose from his seat. Hands shaking, he pulled his wallet from his pocket, counted out some bills and tossed them on the bar. “I have to go.”
“Wait.”
Jack froze. He eyed the other man warily. What now?
Deliberately, the stranger extended his empty hand, closed it into a fist and then slowly re-opened it. A small box of matches lay nestled in his palm. The glossy yellow paper and green type of its label caught Jack’s eye and kept his gaze riveted as, one-handed, with motions that were suddenly too swift and dexterous for Jack to follow, the stranger rotated the box, extracted a match and struck it. Fire flared. Jack felt his eyes widen in fright, as he continued to stare, not at the match, but at the box itself, which bore the logo of the coffee shop where the girl, Deirdre, had worked.
No. Jack’s throat spasmed, he worked to clear it. “You know, given your obvious sleight of hand skills, and your choice of clothing, I’m surprised you’re not plying your trade at The Temple Garden. I think the atmosphere there would be more to your liking.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” The flame’s reflection danced in the stranger’s eyes as he smiled. “Thank you. I shall take your advice. Might I hope that you’ll take mine, as well?”
“What advice is that?” Jack asked. Despite the quailing of his heart, his voice sounded surprisingly calm.
“Choose again,” the young man urged quietly. “Turn away from this path. There is still time.”
Chills raced across Jack’s skin as, his head spinning, he turned and stumbled away from the bar and out into the street.
* * *
“Hey! Put that out,” the bartender called to the man with the match. “There’s no smoking in here.”
Smiling, the magician in the Tiki shirt closed both hands into fists, clapped once, and then re-opened them to reveal...nothing.
The bartender shook his head and returned to his work.
Impressed, Liam watched as the other man picked up the pint glass in front of him. He regarded it thoughtfully for a moment before taking a sip. Then, as though aware that he was being scrutinized, he turned his head and met Liam’s gaze.
“Nice trick,” Liam said. Despite the bad mood that had dogged him ever since his encounter with Cara, he found himself intrigued.
The other man shrugged modestly. “A small matter. Not at all in the same category as, say...extricating yourself from bondage.”
Liam felt himself grow momentarily lightheaded as a memory surfaced. Freeing himself from ropes was something he knew a little about...
It was a technique he’d taught himself when he was still a boy, and as useful as the skill had proven to be, he’d never before felt an urge to give thanks for the events that had forced him to master it. But, right now, all the tortures he’d endured as a kid seemed worth it and he was more than thankful, he was glad for those years he’d spent trapped in his stepfather’s private hell. The lessons he’d learned back then just might spell the difference between life and death. Not just his, but Cara’s, as well.
It had been years since he’d tried anything like this, and for a moment he was afraid he might have forgotten too much. It was more difficult than he recalled and it took longer than he could afford, possibly because he was larger and less limber than he had been. Or perhaps because Gregg and his goons had just gotten through using him as a punching bag.
His head felt woozy and it was enough of a struggle staying conscious, but he had no choice. He had to stay awake long enough to free himself. He had to find a way out of the compound. He had to get to Cara. The thought of that mad man on her trail scared him like nothing he’d ever known. He only hoped that he could find her before Gregg did. And the likelihood of that happening was so slim, he couldn’t bear thinking of it. He had to get to her first. He had to...
For an instant, Liam felt blinded by his rage. Because he hadn’t found Cara in time, had he? Despite his best efforts, Gregg had gotten to her first.
“Fret not,” the man at the bar murmured quietly. “Just because things do not turn out the way you hope or expect them to, that doesn’t mean they don’t turn out as they should. Sometimes you just need the right perspective.”
“No,” Liam muttered savagely. “You’re wrong.” There was no perspective that could make sense of this, or make Cara’s being hurt any less tragic.
“There are many kinds of lessons, you know; including some that are only reached through hardship. There are gifts that must be won at great price. Places you’d never willingly go. Understandings you’d never arrive at, if you weren’t brought to them by force.”
Too heart-sick to respond this time, Liam merely shook his head. Theoretically? Sure, that made sense. But in practice? No. It was a nice thought, nothing more. If things had turned out the way they ‘should’ have done, if the universe was really just, then Gregg would be dead by now, Liam would be in prison for his murder.
And Cara would be alone.
Could it be the stranger was right? Maybe there was a reason Liam had been prevented from killing Gregg. Maybe Cara’s supposed to be with me, after all?
Bullshit, the jealous little voice he’d never been able to completely silence whispered; that’s just what you want to believe. She wouldn’t be alone, she’d be with Seth.
But, bullshit or not, Liam decided to take it as a sign. The world was full of young women, let Seth find someone else.
His companion smiled gently. “Be of good cheer. Seize the day. Embrace uncertainty. It’s part of what makes life so interesting.”
“Interesting?” Liam repeated, finding his voice again, with difficulty. “Like the Chinese curse, you mean? May you live in interesting times. Well, they certainly were that.
“Even so.” Still smiling, the other man leaned closer. “Can I let you in on a secret?” he asked, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
Liam nodded.
“They’re all interesting. To the people living through them, each age is the most interesting time of all.”
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