Reading Between the Wines Book Club: Book Blast: A Rare Vintage by Delancey Stewart (Spotlight/Giveaway)

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Book Blast: A Rare Vintage by Delancey Stewart (Spotlight/Giveaway)

Today we would like to share with you Delancey Stewart's A RARE VINTAGE!

Isabella DaSilva, a fiery grad student from Cornell's wine program is eager to leave her past behind her and forge a future in the vineyards of the West as an apprentice at Chateau Sauvage, a winery seeking to produce wine like no other California wineries had so far -- Rhone varietals. She arrives at Chateau Sauvage to find that wine might not be her only interest. The winemaker, Jonathan Sauvage, is tall, dark, and handsome, and clearly in need of help. Together, they work to make a pioneering wine in an effort to keep the struggling winery afloat. Each struggles with their demons -- hers in the form of a painful and mysterious past; his created by memories of what once might have been. In the process, they find that the pain of their shattered pasts fit together perfectly, making their union as perfect as the wine it produces. A Rare Vintage features an intense and commanding hero who isn’t afraid to ask for help, and a woman who knows that while she might technically be the apprentice, she has plenty to teach Jonathan Sauvage. This book is the first in the Wine Country Romance series.

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Excerpt:

Jonathan stood and picked up the serving dishes. He followed her to the sink, where they worked side-by-side, making quick work of the dishes. As she scrubbed and handed him plates and silver to dry, their hands touched from time to time, and Isabella was surprised with each touch at the warmth she felt whenever his hand touched hers. Once, as she bent forward to pull a plate from the soapy water, she felt his eyes on her, and turned to find him watching her, a hungry look burning in his eyes. She fought the urge to lean into him, to reach up and push one of the longer locks of his hair back from his forehead.

"I…" she stumbled, not knowing what to say.

"Here, let me take that," he said, defusing the moment by taking a plate from her hand.

When they were done, he shook out the dishtowel and folded it, then leaned back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I suppose it's time to head on…” she began.

"Shall we open another bottle?" He asked, grinning.

She smiled. "Sure, why not?" She pulled their glasses from the drying rack and set them on the counter.

"Want to pick?" he asked, looking over his shoulder as he headed for the wine cellar.

"Sure," she said, following him through the arched doorway and down the stairs.

The cellar wasn't a true cellar. Jonathan explained that there were few basements in central California, in large part due to their situation upon the many fault lines that jostled the state on a regular basis. Instead, the cellar was a sunken room with no windows or external doors, and a few extra layers of insulation to keep the temperature as steady as possible.

Side by side, they scanned the higher racks, where hundreds of bottles of red lay on their sides waiting for their day to be opened.

Isabella scanned the labels. "Is this one of your dad's?" she asked, picking up a Burgundy.

"It is," he said quietly. "That was the second year he helped in the blending. That blend garnered a lot of attention." He smiled sadly at her, his eyes searching hers. "Let's open it."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Do you like Burgundy?" he asked, holding the bottle gingerly.

"Of course."

"Come on."

They opened the bottle in the kitchen and then wandered to the living room with generously full globes of deep crimson wine. Isabella sat at one end of the couch, tucking her legs underneath her, and leaned forward, holding out the glass.

"To your dad," she said.

Jonathan extended his glass and the sound of the glasses touching seemed to echo through the still room.

"To continuing to build what he began," she concluded.

Jonathan took a sip, his eyes never leaving her face.

Isabella found herself breathing more heavily, as if it took a great deal of effort for her to sit here on the couch next to this wildly attractive man, drinking wine. He’d gone from being arrogant and closed-off to open and generous in one evening. She wanted to slide across the couch, wrap her arms around his neck and pull him to her—to feel his weight on her. The more she tried to focus on behaving normally, the more difficulty she had quelling the butterflies that were careening around in her stomach. She tore her eyes from his face and found herself staring at the muscular chest evident under the thin western shirt instead. Get a grip on yourself! She chastised.

Jonathan had been watching her, his gaze never leaving her face, and he seemed to sense her struggles to maintain control over her suddenly flaring desire. A smile began on his lips and he put his glass down on the coffee table in front of them. His eyes darkened.

"Isabella," he said. "I know you've just gotten here…"

She was not usually a forward woman, but something in his voice dampened her fears. She put her glass on the table and slid across the caramel leather of the couch until she could feel the warmth radiating off of him. She looked into his eyes, not entirely sure of herself until she saw the barely-contained desire in his gaze. She felt a shift in the air as her own physical desire negated her efforts to maintain conscious control of the situation.

"Jonathan," she breathed as her arms wound around his neck. His breath was hot on her neck as she pulled him gently toward her. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her back as he laid her down. They slid back slowly until the full length of their bodies was pressed together, and finally, his lips found hers. They kissed softly at first, and then Isabella felt Jonathan's control falter as he let out a low groan and began to kiss her hungrily. He pushed her lips apart and his tongue plunged into her mouth. She tasted the wine lingering there, and she opened her mouth to him eagerly, her own tongue meeting his while her hips pushed upwards against him, feeling the hard urgency of his erection pressing against her hip through her jeans.

He groaned again, a low guttural sound filled with desire, and she began to feel the edges of her consciousness darken as the remnants of her self-control faded into her desire for him.

Bio:

Delancey Stewart has lived on both coasts, in big cities and small towns. She's been a pharmaceutical rep, a personal trainer and a wine seller. Despite lots of other interests, she has always been a writer in some way shape or form.A military spouse and the mother of two small boys, her current job titles include pirate captain, monster hunter, Lego assembler and story reader. She tackles all these efforts at her current home in Southern Maryland.Delancey Stewart is the author of Through a Dusty Window: New York City Stories 1910-2001 and A Rare Vintage, the first in her Wine Country Romance Series. She is also working on the Girlfriends of Gotham Series for Swoon Romance. The first book, Men and Martinis, will be released in Fall 2013.