The Vineyard at Painted Moon
by Susan Mallery 

Amazon | Books-A-Million | B & N

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.

Excerpt

Chapter Five

Stephanie opened the closet by the front door and pulled the rolled decorative flag out of the corner. As she opened the front door, she gave the pole a little shake to unfurl the flag, then stepped onto the porch and slid the pole into place. A light breeze caught the fabric, causing the print of the giant cookie to ripple slightly.

In addition to the six dozen cookies she’d baked for Carson to take with him, she’d made four dozen more for the family. A few years ago, Mackenzie had started the tradition of putting out a flag whenever she baked cookies. Avery and Carson had gone running to grab a few and bring them home. Now that Zeus, Galaxy and Eternity were big enough to roam the compound, they watched for the cookie flag, as well.

Stephanie went back inside and carried two disposable containers up to her son’s room.

Carson’s large suitcase was ready to go. His carry-on backpack stood open on the desk. Her son was stretched out on his bed, his gaze locked on his tablet.

“I made you cookies for the trip,” she said. “And the first few days of camp.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

When he didn’t raise his gaze, she sighed heavily. “Look at me, Carson.”

He did as she requested. She waved the two containers. “These are your cookies. The ones in the red container are peanut butter. You’re fourteen, Carson, so I’m trusting you to be responsible with them.”

The corners of his lips trembled as if he were trying not to smile. “With cookies, Mom? I think I’m up to the challenge.”

“Peanut butter cookies. Just the thought of you carrying them with you makes me break out in a sweat. Remember that some kids are allergic. It’s a real thing. Do not go passing them around without talking to everyone first. Peanut butter cookies can trigger nut allergies.”

His dark eyes crinkled as he grinned. “Didn’t you put walnuts into the chocolate chip cookies?”

“What? Crap. What was I thinking?”

He dropped his tablet onto the bed, stood and wrapped his arms around her. “Mom, don’t sweat it. No one I know is allergic to nuts.”

“What about at camp? Forget it. You’re not taking these with you. No kid is dying on my watch—not because I made cookies.”

He took the containers from her hands and dropped them into his backpack. “We’ll be fine. I’ll make sure everyone I bunk with is okay with nuts. There’s four of us in a suite, Mom. The cookies won’t last the night.”

She knew he could be trusted to be responsible. “Okay, just be careful. Maybe I’ll text your counselor.”

He winced. “Don’t set me up to be that freaky little kid who can’t be away from his mommy.”

“That’s so judgmental.”

“You know I’m telling the truth.” He zipped up his backpack, then slung it over his shoulder and grabbed his suitcase. “It’ll be fine. Have a little faith.”

“I should go with you to the airport,” she said.

“Mom, stop. I’m driving to Seattle with Grandma and Giorgio. Dad’s meeting me there and getting me to my gate. I’m fourteen years old. I’ll be fine.”

She wanted to protest that he was still her baby, only she knew he wouldn’t appreciate that. So instead of telling him he had to stay little forever, she followed him downstairs and found Rhys sitting on a stool by the island. Four and her three kids were there, as well, all eating cookies. Because in this family everyone came by to say goodbye. Mackenzie had stopped by that morning, as had Jaguar, and Avery had seen her brother before she’d gone off to work.

“Excited?” Rhys asked his nephew.

Carson grinned. “Can’t wait.”

They hugged. Four was next, whispering something in his ear. Carson chuckled but didn’t respond. He hugged and kissed his cousins before heading out front. Stephanie went with him.

Right on time her mom and Giorgio pulled in front of her house. Giorgio popped the trunk of the late-model Mercedes and helped Carson with his luggage. Stephanie hugged her youngest.

“Text me the second you get to California,” she said. “From the airport and then again when you arrive at camp. If you don’t text me, I’ll call your counselor and pretend that I’m crying and then you will be the freaky little kid who can’t be away from his mommy.”

Carson sighed. “Mom, you don’t have to do that. I’ll text you, I swear.”

“Threaten to fly down and stay with him,” her mother offered from the passenger seat in the car. “Remember when I had to do that with you?”

Stephanie did her best not to shudder at the memory. She’d been a bit chatty in high school and was constantly in trouble for talking to her friends. When the usual punishments—detention and being grounded—hadn’t worked, her mother had told her that whatever was happening at school must be so very interesting, what with Stephanie unable to stop talking about it. So Barbara would come with her to every class, unless she could learn to be quiet.

Stephanie hadn’t spoken for nearly four days.

“Text me or I’ll come stay with you,” she told her son. “Look into my eyes and see how much I mean that.”

“You’re scary sometimes,” he told her as he kissed her cheek. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too.”