The Case of the Voracious VintnerThe gracious southern winemaker risks his future for the guy who isn’t what he seems
Where Bo Marchand comes from, gay men are just confirmed bachelors who never found the right girl. But now Bo’s a successful winemaker on the central coast of California, supporting his whole damned Georgia family, and all he really wants is the beautiful, slightly mysterious Jeremy Aames.
Jeremy’s vineyard is under threat from Ernest Ottersen, the voracious winemaker who seems to know all Jeremy’s blending secrets and manages to grab all his customers. Bo tries to help Jeremy and even provides a phony alibi for Jeremy when Ottersen turns up dead in Jeremy’s tasting room. But it’s clear Jeremy isn’t who he claims, and Bo must decide if it’s worth tossing over his established life for a man who doesn’t seem to trust anyone. When Jeremy gets kidnapped, some the conservative winemakers turn out to be kinky sex fiends, and the list of murderers keeps dwindling down to Jeremy. Bo has to choose between hopping on his white horse or climbing back in his peach-pie-lined closet.
Available in eBook, Paperback, and Mass Market Paperback
Published Jan 29, 2019
eBook (ISBN 978-1-64080-840-9)
Cover Artist: Kanaxa
Available in Italian
Buy The Case of the Voracious Vintner
Available in eBook and Paperback
What People Are Saying About The Case of the Voracious Vintner
This book has everything – good writing, a strong story, engaging characters and some beautiful world building.
TLain did an excellent job of tossing out red herrings and she kept me guessing throughout.
Other Middlemark Mysteries
“Where’s your family? Clearly they didn’t follow you to California as mine did.”
“Uh, no. I don’t have any relatives to speak of.” That was the truth. He wouldn’t speak of them.
“Land of mercy, I can’t even imagine what that would be like.”
Jeremy snorted. “Sounds like you have enough relatives for both of us.”
“And the rest of central California as well.”
“A Southern thing, I bet.”
“Oh yes. In Georgia people don’t just want to know your name, they want to know who your grandparents were. Then they figure out how you’re related.” He turned those perfect lips into a half smile. “You’re always related somehow. Where are you from?”
Jeremy worked hard to keep his eyes level and not look away. “New York mostly.”
“Whatever possessed you to move all the way to the central coast of California? They make good wine in New York.”
“I was ready for a change and nothing to keep me there.” They tried to keep him there, but he got away.
“Would you like dessert?” Bo’s lips curled around that word so deliciously, Jeremy could think of a lot of sweets he’d like in his mouth. He shifted on his seat.
“Uh, no, thanks. I’m good.”
“Yes.” They did that eye thing again, and the impact of those crystal green eyes built up in Jeremy to the point that the possibility of coming in his pants was a real threat.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “Let me get the check, okay? You’ve done all the serious thinking.” He grinned.
For a second Bo looked as if he might demur, but finally he nodded. “Thank you most kindly. I’ll get it next time.”
Jeremy did like that there would be a next time. He motioned to the waitress for the bill.
Bo said, “Did you always want to make wine?”
Amid all the shit he couldn’t tell the truth about, that was an easy question. “Yes. When I was a little kid and other rug rats were downing Cokes and cheeseburgers, I was reading the labels on wine bottles and scanning my mother’s cookbooks for exotic recipes. I didn’t know I was gay until I was about twelve, but I knew I was different really young.”
Bo got a funny expression on his face. Kind of sad.
Jeremy gave him a smile. “No need to feel bad for me. I’ve always loved being weird.” That was pretty much the truth.
Bo smiled. “I understand. I’m quite the black sheep of my clan as well.”
Jeremy held up his glass with a last splash of wine in it. “Hard to imagine for such a pillar of the community, but here’s to all us freaks.”
Bo laughed—a deep musical sound—and extended his almost empty glass. “And all our freaky works.”
They clinked and downed the last of their wine.
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