Autumn in the Vineyard
by Marina Adair
There’s always a girl. She’s either poor, or she’s lost all her money; she’s either alone, or she’s been disowned; she’s either socially incompetent, or she’s incited by her own humiliation. This time, it’s Frankie Baudouin and she wants to grow grapes on her own land and make wine. She wants to compete with the big boys. But she has to work with them — or at least one of them — in order to get what she wants. Readable, despite the author’s humiliation fetish.
For those with a curiosity about the kind of woman who is employed by Christie’s and the New York auction scene: the girls, the clothes, their mothers, their mothers’ wardrobe, the accents, the topknots, the hyper-academic cat-calls, the jealousies, the gallerinas:
The gallery girls of New York are like starving attack dogs in really nice clothes. All have legs for days and glasses so edgy you wondered why they didn’t just strap two paperweights to their faces with some hooks….
Three women who are discontent present the traditional female problems, but unhinge these problems in different ways.
One woman whines about her husband not wanting to pay for yet another IVF treatment; another woman whines about her unfaithful husband; another whines about being alone.
But by the end of this story, none of these women are whining. Something happens.
The bored and boring life of a typically immoral English banker in the city of London in the 1960s.
Annie moves to sleepy Heron Island on Chesapeake Bay with her 8 year old daughter Taylor, who carries a broom everywhere. This is because she is one of the only pupils who survived a shooting at an elementary school in Washington D.C. Mother and daughter enjoy renovating the old fashioned house in the new town, make wind chimes together, and meet a rough islander and Navy SEAL, Will. Annie and Will and Taylor become an easy threesome, while Annie readies her cafe — where she will bake and cook and feed the fishermen, tourists and islanders….
Meg, a rude, prickly, well dressed matchmaker goes to a celebrity resort with a famous actor, hiding his homosexuality. The resort promises privacy, secrecy, security. She spars and eventually falls in love with the owner. But instead of privacy and secrecy, the resort harbors someone who takes pictures of the actor and his boyfriend… The plot is pebbled with a minimum of romantic fluff and moves briskly.
Details: Seduced by Sunday by Catherine Bybee read by Tanya Eby
Price: Kindle Unlimited + $1.99
Hope Springs: A foster child lovingly raised in an old Victorian house comes back, buys the old house, and opens up a Bakery Cafe where she can sell her special brownies.
The absentee father-veterinarian comes back not knowing that his ex-love is raising his daughters. He finds out, meets his girls, plays daddy, screws the right sister, and wants to run away, again.
What starts off as a sweetly original, Jobs-like desire-mined story about a woman’s relationship with the net: before and after marriage, turns into a stupid, GOOFY-Lucy-type plot about a wife and mother who tries to hide her need to be free from her straight laced and slightly idiotic husband. Too bad.
“It was no longer about the money, it was that innocent people had died.” This insincere, formulaic, unremarkable thought is thought yet again by Hilary the victim in the 68th Chapter of this disappointing ‘thriller’. Another poor and pretty mother, another psychopath, another Asperbergers child. Who cares?