I am so excited to be bringing you Susan Mallery's latest stand alone, The Vineyard at Painted Moon. A poignant story about starting over. I can't wait to read this and I know once you read about it you will too.
Enjoy!
ISBN-13:9781335912794
Publisher: Harlequin
Release Date: 2-09-2021
Length: 400pp
Buy It: HQN/ Amazon/ B&N/ IndieBound
Overview:
"Mallery is an expert at writing about strong women, their friendships, and their romances."—Booklist on The Vineyard at Painted Moon
Step into the vineyard with Susan Mallery’s most irresistible novel yet, as one woman searches for the perfect blend of love, family and wine.
Mackenzie Dienes seems to have it all—a beautiful home, close friends and a successful career as an elite winemaker with the family winery. There’s just one problem—it’s not her family, it’s her husband’s. In fact, everything in her life is tied to him—his mother is the closest thing to a mom that she’s ever had, their home is on the family compound, his sister is her best friend. So when she and her husband admit their marriage is over, her pain goes beyond heartbreak. She’s on the brink of losing everything. Her job, her home, her friends and, worst of all, her family.
Staying is an option. She can continue to work at the winery, be friends with her mother-in-law, hug her nieces and nephews—but as an employee, nothing more. Or she can surrender every piece of her heart in order to build a legacy of her own. If she can dare to let go of the life she thought she wanted, she might discover something even more beautiful waiting for her beneath a painted moon.
Read an excerpt:
one
“Not that what you’re wearing isn’t great, but
the party starts in an hour.”
Mackenzie Dienes looked
up from the grapevine she’d been studying, her mind still on the tight clusters
of small, hard grapes that would, come late September, be ripe and sweet and
ready for harvest. Between now and then, she would monitor their progress, willing
them to greatness and protecting them from danger, be it mold, weather or
hungry deer.
She blinked at the man
standing in front of her, tall and familiar, with an easy smile and broad,
capable shoulders.
“Party?” she asked,
letting her thoughts of the vineyards go and remembering that, yes, indeed, it
was the evening of the annual Solstice Party, hosted by the Barcellona family.
As she was a Barcellona, by marriage if not by name, she would be expected to
attend.
Wanted to attend, she reminded herself. It
was always a good time, and Stephanie, her sister-in-law, worked hard to make
it a perfect night.
“The party,” she repeated, her voice slightly more panicked this
time, then glanced down at herself. “Crap. What time is it?”
Rhys, her husband, shook his head. “You really don’t listen when I
talk, do you? We have an hour. You’ll be fine.”
She pulled off her gloves and shoved them into the left front
pocket of her coveralls, then stepped behind Rhys and gave him a little push
toward the flatbed truck he’d driven out to the west vineyards.
“You say that because all you have to do is shower and get
dressed. I have to do the girl thing.”
“Which takes you maybe ten minutes.” He put his arm around her as
they hurried toward the truck. “Happy with the grapes?”
“I think so,” she said, glancing toward the healthy vines growing
on either side of them. “We might have to do some thinning in a couple of
weeks, but so far, so good.”
As they slid onto the bench seat of the
old truck, he glanced at her. She smiled, knowing there was a fifty-fifty
chance he would call her out on her thinning statement. He was, after all, the
vineyard manager. Technically all the decisions about the vineyard were made by
him with her input, but not her instruction. As winemaker, she managed the
grapes from the moment they were picked until the wine was bottled.
But at Bel Après, areas of responsibility often overlapped. Theirs
was a large, boisterous family in which everyone had opinions. Not that
Mackenzie listened to a lot of other ideas when it came to her wines, although
as Rhys often pointed out, she was very free offering hers when it came
to his work.
He drove along the dirt path that circled the vineyard, stopping
by her truck. She slid into the cab, then followed him back to the family
compound. The main road leading into Walla Walla was thick with tourists who
wanted to enjoy the longest day of the year. She merged into the slow-moving
traffic, doing her best to keep from glancing at the clock on the truck’s
dashboard as she inched along.
Vineyards stretched out on either side of
the road, flat on the left and rising toward the hills on the right. Bright
green leaves topped sturdy trunks that had been carefully trained to grow
exactly as she wanted them to. The rows were long and neat, and the spaces
between them were filled with native grasses that held in moisture and
protected the roots from the heat.
Looking at her healthy crop kept her mind off the fact that she
and Rhys were going to be desperately late.
Twenty minutes later, she followed him off the highway onto a less
crowded secondary road—a back way home. Five minutes after that, they parked
the trucks by the processing buildings behind the big tasting room. Rhys had
already claimed one of the golf carts the family used to get around. She slid
in next to him and they took off toward the center of the property.
Bel
Après Winery and the surrounding land had been in the Barcellona family for
nearly sixty years. Rhys and his siblings were third-generation. The original
main house had been updated several times. When Rhys and Mackenzie had married,
Barbara, Rhys’s
mother, had suggested they build themselves a house close
to hers, rather than commute from town. Eager to stay in the good graces of her
new mother-in-law, Mackenzie had agreed.
A large two-story home had been built. Barbara and Mackenzie had
decorated every room, the act of choosing everything from light fixtures to
doorknobs cementing their affection for each other.
A few years later, Stephanie, the second of Barbara’s four
children, had gotten a divorce and moved back home with her two kids, requiring
another house to be constructed. When the youngest of the three girls had
married, the last house had been added. Only Lori, the middle daughter, still
lived in the original home.
All
four houses faced a huge central courtyard. Mexican pavers were shaded by
vine-covered pergolas. The extended family used the space for big dinners and
as a kids’ play area. If one of the women baked cookies, a cookie flag was hung
out the front door, inviting anyone to stop by. At Christmas, a large tree was
brought in from Wishing Tree,
and for the annual Summer Solstice Party, dozens of long
tables were brought in to seat the two hundred or so guests.
Rhys swung the golf cart behind the large main house, circling
counterclockwise. Normally he would cut across the courtyard, but with all the
party preparations, he had to go the long way. He pulled up at the rear
entrance to their house and they dashed inside.
Mackenzie paused to unlace her boots and left them in the mudroom.
Rhys did the same. They raced up the stairs together, separating at the landing
to head to their individual en suite bedrooms.
Once in her bathroom, she started the shower. Thankfully, she’d
already picked out the dress she would wear. She raced through a shower. After
she dried off, she wrapped her hair in a towel and dug out the scented body lotion
Rhys had given her a couple of years ago. Why anyone would want to smell like
coconut and vanilla was beyond her, but he liked it.
She walked into the large closet and opened her underwear
drawer. To the right were all the sensible bikini panties she usually wore—to
the left were the fancier ones for special occasions. She chose a black pair
and slipped them on, then went to the second drawer and looked for the matching
push-up bra. When it and the pads were in place and doing the best they could
with her modest curves, she pulled on a robe and returned to the bathroom.
After plugging in her hot rollers, it took her only a few minutes
to apply eyeliner and mascara. She was flushed from the day working outside, so
she didn’t bother with any other makeup.
Her hair took a lot longer. First she had to dry the dark red
shoulder-length waves, then she had to curl them. While the rollers were in
place, she searched for a pair of black high-heel sandals that wouldn’t leave
her crippled by the end of the night.
Those found, she opened her small jewelry box and pulled out her
wedding set, sliding both the engagement ring and the wedding band into place
on her left hand. Diamond stud earrings followed. She’d barely stepped into her
sleeveless black dress when Rhys walked into the closet, fully dressed in black
slacks and a dark gray shirt.
She sighed when she saw him. “See. You
have it so much easier than me.”
“Yes, but in the end, you’re more beautiful. That should be worth
something.”
“I’d rather have the extra time.”
She turned, presenting him with her back. He pulled up the zipper,
then bent to collect her shoes. They retreated to her bathroom and together
began removing the curlers.
“We’re late,” Mackenzie said, catching sight of his watch. “Your
mom is going to be all snippy.”
“She’ll be too busy welcoming her guests.”
The last of the curlers was flung onto the counter. Mackenzie
fluffed her hair, then pointed to the bedroom.
“Retreat,” she said, reaching for the can of hair spray.
Rhys ducked to safety. She sprayed the curls into submission
before running into the bedroom to escape the death cloud. Rhys was on the
bench at the foot of the large bed. She sat next to him and quickly put on her
shoes.
“Done,” she said, pausing to reacquaint herself with the
seldom-used skill of walking in heels.
She grabbed her husband’s wrist. “Seven
fifteen. Barbara’s going to kill us.”
“She’s not. I’m her only son and you’re just plain her favorite.”
“We weren’t ready exactly at seven. I can already hear the
death-march music in my head. I want to be buried on Red Mountain.”
Rhys chuckled as he led the way downstairs. “In the vineyard? I’m
not sure your decaying body is going to be considered organic.”
“Are you saying I’m toxic?” she asked with a laugh as they walked
toward the front door.
“I’m saying you’re wonderful and I’d like us to have a good
night.”
There was something in his tone, she thought, meeting his
gaze. She’d known this man her entire adult life. They’d met over Christmas her
freshman year of college. Her roommate, his sister Stephanie, had dragged
Mackenzie home to meet the family. Grateful not to have to spend the holiday by
herself, Mackenzie had gone willingly and had quickly found herself falling not
only for her best friend’s hunky older brother but for the entire Barcellona
family and the vineyards they owned. Barbara had been like a surrogate mother,
and the vineyards, well, they had been just as magical as Rhys’s sexy kisses.
Now she studied her husband’s expression, seeing the hint of
sadness lurking behind his easy smile. She saw it because she hid the same
emotion deep inside herself. The days of stealing away for sexy kisses were
long gone. There were no lingering looks, no intimacy. They had a routine and a
life, but she was less sure about them still having a marriage.
“I’d like that, too,” she murmured, knowing he wasn’t asking them
not to fight. They never did. Harsh words required a level of involvement they
simply didn’t have anymore.
“Then let’s make that happen,” he said lightly, taking her hand in
his and opening the front door.
The sounds of the party engulfed them, drawing them into
the rapidly growing throng of guests. Mackenzie felt her mood lighten as she
took in the twinkle lights wrapped around the pergola, the tables overflowing
with food, the cases of Bel Après wine, stacked and ready to be opened. Servers
circulated with trays of bruschetta. There was a pasta bar and a dessert station.
Music played through speakers hidden in foliage, and the delicious smell of
garlic mingled with the sweet scent of summer flowers.
Mackenzie spotted Stephanie talking to one of the servers and gave
Rhys’s hand one last squeeze before separating from him and walking toward her
sister-in-law.
“You outdid yourself,” she said, hugging her friend.
“I’m pretty bitchin’,” Stephanie said with a laugh, then waved her
hand toward the twinkle lights. “Those will be a lot more effective when the
sun goes down in two plus hours.”
Because the longest day in their part of Washington State meant
nearly sixteen hours of daylight.
“You exhausted?” Mackenzie asked, knowing Stephanie had spent the
past three weeks making sure every detail of the party was perfect.
“It’s been the usual challenge with a few extras thrown in,” her
sister-in-law said lightly. “I won’t even hint at what they are, but brace
yourself for a surprise or two.”
Mackenzie immediately scanned the crowd.
“Is Kyle here?”
Stephanie, a petite, curvy brunette with beautiful brown eyes and
an easy smile, groaned. “What? No. Not that. I told you. I’m over him. Totally,
completely, forever.”
“But he’s here.”
“Yes. Mom invites him every year because he’s Avery and Carson’s
father. The fact that he’s my ex-husband doesn’t seem to faze her. You know how
she gets.”
Mackenzie did. Once her mother-in-law made up her mind about something,
she could not, would not be moved. There was no evolving of an opinion over
time. Barbara was a human version of the immovable object.
“Kyle is her oldest granddaughter’s father, and therefore a member
of the family.” Stephanie wrinkled her nose. “I deal with the awkwardness of
it. On the bright side, she refers to him as ‘the sperm donor,’ which I like.”
“If only he’d fought the prenup, Barbara would have turned on him
like a snake.” Mackenzie paused. “You’re sure you don’t want to start back up with
him?”
“Yes. Totally. I’m done with that. He
strung me along for years after the divorce. No more sex with the ex. It’s been
eighteen months since our last bump and grind, and I’m standing strong. I’m
horny as hell, but standing strong.” She glanced around at the guests. “Maybe
I’ll hook up with someone here.”
“Have you ever hooked up with anyone?”
“No, but there’s always a first time.” Stephanie wrinkled her
nose. “I just don’t know how it works. Do we slip away to the barrel room and
do it on a desk or something? I can’t take him home—the kids are there. And a
car is just so tacky.”
“Because the barrel room isn’t?” Mackenzie asked with a laugh.
“I don’t know. It could be romantic.”
“Or, at the very least, intoxicating.”
Stephanie waved away that observation. “Fine. Not the barrel room,
but then I’m still left with a lack of location, not to mention any prospects.”
She sighed as they walked toward one of the wine stations. “This is why hooking
up has never worked for me. It’s too complicated. They make it look easy in the
movies and on TV, but it’s not.” “I have zero experience. I’m sorry. I’ll read
up on it so I have better advice next time.”
“Which is why I love you.” Stephanie shook her head. “Obviously I
should let the whole man-slash-sex thing go and focus on other aspects of my
life.”
They each asked for a glass of cabernet. While Stephanie simply
sipped her wine, Mackenzie took a moment to study the color, before sniffing
the aroma. She swirled the wine twice, then inhaled the scent again, liking the
balance of fruit against the—
“For heaven’s sake, just drink the wine, I beg you,” Stephanie
said with a laugh. “It’s fine. It was fine when you watched the grapes being
crushed, it was fine in the barrels, it was fine when it was bottled and it was
fine when it won what I’m sure is a thousand awards. Okay? It’s good wine.
Relax and stop being a winemaker for one night.”
“You’re crabby.” Mackenzie took a drink and smiled. “For the
record, it’s much better than fine.”
“You
would say that. It’s your wine.” Stephanie looked over Mackenzie’s shoulder
and smiled. “Here comes your handsome husband. I’m guessing
he wants your first dance.”
Mackenzie turned and watched as Rhys approached. He enjoyed the
dancing at the Solstice Party and took all the female guests for a turn around
the dance floor, but he always saved the first one for her.
“Shall we?” he asked, holding out his hand.
She passed her wineglass to Stephanie, then followed her husband
to the small dance floor. No one else joined them, but she knew that would
change as soon as they got things started.
“We need to check the Seven Hills drip system,” she said as they
moved in time with the music. “The forecast says we’re going to get hotter and
drier in the next few weeks, and I want to control the exact amount of
moisture.”
One of the advantages of “new world” vineyards was the ability to
control quality by providing exactly the right amount of irrigation. Once the
fruit was established, she could stress the vines, causing them to focus more
intensely on the fruit.
“I know better than to point out we walked
the vineyard last month,” Rhys said lightly.
“That was a general check. Now I have a specific concern.”
“As you wish.” He spun them in a tight circle. “Maybe the rest of
the work conversation could wait until tomorrow.”
“What?” Why wouldn’t they talk about—“Oh. The party. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re never truly off duty, but if we could put
it on hold for the night, I would appreciate it.”
Because he enjoyed events like these. He liked talking to his
friends and meeting new people and generally being social. Rhys was much more
extroverted than she was. If someone new joined the tight circle of vineyard
owners in the area, he was the first one to go introduce himself.
She nodded her agreement and tried to think of something to talk
about that wasn’t vineyard or wine related.
“I hope Kyle leaves Stephanie alone,” she said, thinking that was
a more neutral topic. “She’s trying hard to move on.” “She has to figure out
what she wants. He’s always going to ask—it’s up to her to tell him no and mean
it.”
She knew he was right, but for some reason his blunt assessment
irritated her.
“That’s not very understanding,” she said before she could stop
herself. “Kyle’s a big-time Seattle sportscaster with the ability to find a
different woman every night. Stephanie’s a small-town single mom working at the
family business. Where, exactly, is she supposed to meet someone?”
Her husband stared at her. “What does her dating someone else have
to do with whether or not she’s still sleeping with Kyle?”
“There aren’t any other options for her. She’s lonely.”
“She’s going to stay lonely until she gets herself out there.”
“What there are you talking about? The giant
singles scene here in Walla Walla?”
They stopped dancing and stared at each other. Mackenzie
realized this was the closest she and Rhys had come to having an actual
argument in years. She had no idea why she had so much energy about the topic
or what was causing her growing annoyance. But whatever it was, the Summer
Solstice Party was not the place to give in to unexplained emotions.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “You’re right, of course. Stephanie
has to find a way to change her circumstances so Kyle is less of a temptation.”
His tight expression softened with concern. “I want my sister to
be happy.”
“I know you do.”
“I want you to be happy.”
There was something in the way he said the words. As if he wasn’t
sure that was possible.
“I am,” she said quietly, thinking she was almost telling the
truth.
“I hope so.”
She faked a smile and waved her hand toward the growing crowd of
guests. “You have a lot of women to dance with tonight. You’d better get
started.”
He
studied her for a second, as if assessing her mood. She kept the smile in place
until he turned away. When he was gone, she looked longingly toward her house.
Disappearing into the quiet tempted her but wasn’t an option. Tonight was a command performance and
there was no leaving early. But soon, she promised herself. In the quiet of her
room, she wouldn’t feel the low-grade unease that had haunted her for the past
few months. Alone in the dark, she would be calm and happy and think only of
good things, like the coming harvest and the wine she would make. Alone in the
dark, she would be herself again.
Praise:
“Mallery is an expert at writing about strong women, their friendships, and their romances.” —Booklist on The Vineyard at Painted Moon“The friendships in [The Vineyard at Painted Moon] are warmth and realistic, as Mallery's many fans will expect.” —Booklist on The Vineyard at Painted Moon
“The Vineyard at Painted Moon is a prime example of the talent of Susan Mallery...a study of human relationships, emotions, expectations, and spirit.” —Fresh Fiction
She is always good
ReplyDeletealways
DeleteI've not read her books yet, but wow that sounds poignant. Look forward to your thoughts on it, Debbie.
ReplyDeleteOh Sophia Rose you are missing out she is right up your alley
DeleteI must have read this just at the right time, I really enjoyed it.
ReplyDeleteI cant wait to see what you thought Kathryn
DeleteI have heard great things about this author, but I have yet to read her work.
ReplyDeleteOh you would love her Nadene
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