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Informationen zum Autor Kate Lansing is an award-winning short-story author. Her work has appeared in the Brave New Girls anthology and the Crossing Colfax anthology. She lives in Denver, Colorado, with her husband, daughter, and a chair-napping tabby cat named Maple. Klappentext A young winemaker is over a barrel when her new boyfriend is accused of murder in this delightful cozy mystery. It's fall in Boulder, Colorado, and the leaves aren't the only things changing. Parker Valentine, owner of Vino Valentine, is finally settling in to her winery and her new relationship with Reid Wallace, a local chef. But their delicate pairing is endangered when Reid's estranged family comes into town to celebrate the opening of his new restaurant. Reid and his family are immediately at loggerheads, given their often acidic temperaments, but Parker still wants to make a good first impression. However, her efforts might be in vain when Reid's sous chef is found dead in the alley behind the restaurant, and Reid is implicated in the murder. In order to save Reid, Parker will have to find the real killer, even if the truth is difficult to swallow. Leseprobe Chapter One I should have brought flowers. A pacifying bouquet of lilies, hydrangeas, and daisies. Instead, foolishly, I brought wine, and left myself open to a world of criticism from my boyfriend's judgy family. Because the wine isn't merely some label I picked up at the corner store-pricey enough to impress but not so much to blow my budget-it's my own craftsmanship. "Colorado wines will never be as flavorful as Napa's," Camilla, the matriarch, says in a superior voice. She purses her lips in disapproval. With her perfectly styled coiffure and Jackie cardigan, she hails from an era of class and sophistication that apparently doesn't extend to present conversation. "Everyone is entitled to their own opinion," I say, my cheeks aching from the forced smile on my face. "My wife is right," Gary chimes in from across the rustic wooden table, his cable-knit sweater the same shade of burgundy as the pinot we're tasting. "If you had done your research, Napa would have been the smarter choice." "Perhaps," I say. "But I love Boulder, and the market is just getting going here. It gives me the opportunity to carve a niche for my business." Which I've already done, I want to add. My winery, Vino Valentine, is thriving. I can hardly keep up with demand thanks to a rave review from a popular food-and-wine blogger, monthly VIP parties, and, most recently, supplying varietals to the hip new establishment we're dining at now. And while I don't own my own vineyard, the grapes I order from growers on the Western Slope of the Rocky Mountains are chock-full of flavor. The higher altitude yields a deeper pigmentation and a more concentrated sugar content, making the fruit-in my humble opinion-ideal for winemaking. Gary sniffs at his glass surreptitiously and says, his tone veering on mansplaining, "Red wine really ought to be aged in oak." "Agreed," I say, and add, with relish, "which is why I aged it in oak for six months before moving it to steel." Gary shoots me a look of utter distrust, clearly one of those people who doesn't believe what he can't see-or rather, taste-and Camilla not so subtly checks the gold-plated watch on her wrist. I remind myself that I'm doing this for Reid, my boyfriend extraordinaire. I was honored he asked me to come tonight and more than a little curious to meet the family he hasn't spoken to in more than a year. That is, until Camilla pierced me with an icy stare and asked where I got my cute dress-the word cute sounding like an insult-and Gary's gaze drifted a few degrees south of my face. And now I'm on my own ...
