The Villa
(Sprache: Englisch)
In the lush vineyards of the Napa Valley, matriarch Tereza Giambelli announces a merger with the MacMillan family's winery--a move which throws together Sophia Giambelli with Tyler MacMillan. Sophia is torn between a powerful attraction and a professional...
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In the lush vineyards of the Napa Valley, matriarch Tereza Giambelli announces a merger with the MacMillan family's winery--a move which throws together Sophia Giambelli with Tyler MacMillan. Sophia is torn between a powerful attraction and a professional rivalry until acts of sabotage threaten both the family business and the family itself.
Klappentext zu „The Villa “
#1 New York Times bestselling author Nora Roberts exposes a proud family s deadly secrets in this passionate tale of two Napa Valley rivals...PR executive Sophia Giambelli loves her job and has never worried about competition. For three generations, her family s wines have been world-renowned for their quality. But things are about to change at Villa Giambelli. Tereza, the matriarch, has announced a merger with the MacMillan family s winery and Sophia will be assuming a new role.
As a savvy businesswoman, Sophia knows she must be prepared for anything...but she isn t prepared for Tyler MacMillan. They ve been ordered to work together very closely, to facilitate the merger. Sophia must teach Ty the finer points of marketing and Ty, in turn, shows her how to get down and dirty, to use the sun, rain, and earth to coax the sweetest grapes from the vineyard.
As they toil together, both in and out of the fields, Sophia is torn between a powerful attraction and a professional rivalry. At the end of the season, the course of the company s future and the legacy of the villa may take an entirely new direction. And when acts of sabotage threaten both the family business and the family itself, Sophia s quest will be not only for dominance, but also for survival.
Lese-Probe zu „The Villa “
PrologueOn the night he was murdered, Bernardo Baptista dined simply on bread and cheese and a bottle of Chianti. The wine was a bit young, and Bernardo was not. Neither would continue to age.
Like his bread and cheese, Bernardo was a simple man. He had lived in the same little house in the gentle hills north of Venice since his marriage fifty-one years before. His five children had been raised there. His wife had died there.
Now at seventy-three, Bernardo lived alone, with most of his family a stone's throw away, at the edges of the grand Giambelli vineyard where he had worked since his youth.
He had known La Signora since her girlhood, and had been taught to remove his cap whenever she passed by. Even now if Tereza Giambelli traveled from California back to the castello and vineyard, she would stop if she saw him. And they would talk of the old days when her grandfather and his had worked the vines.
Signore Baptista, she called him. Respectfully. He had great appreciation for La Signora, and had been loyal to her and hers the whole of his life.
For more than sixty years he had taken part in the making of Giambelli wine. There had been many changessome good, in Bernardo's opinion, some not so good. He had seen much.
Some thought, too much.
The vines, lulled into dormancy by winter, would soon be pruned. Arthritis prevented him from doing much of the hard work, as he once had, but still he would go out every morning to watch his sons and grandsons carry on the tradition.
A Baptista had always worked for Giambelli. And in Bernardo's mind, always would.
On this last night of his seventy-three years, he looked out over the vineshis vines, seeing what had been done, what needed to be done, and listened as the December wind whistled through the bones of the grape.
... mehr
From the window where that wind tried to sneak, he could see the skeletons as they made their steady climb up the rises. They would take on flesh and life with time, and not wither as a man did. Such was the miracle of the grape.
He could see the shadows and shapes of the great castello which ruled those vines, and ruled those who tended them.
It was lonely now, in the night, in the winter, when only servants slept in the castello and the grapes had yet to be born.
He wanted the spring, and the long summer that followed it when the sun would warm his innards and ripen the young fruit. He wanted, as it seemed he always had, one more harvest.
Bernardo ached with the cold, deep in the bones. He considered heating some of the soup his granddaughter had brought to him, but his Annamaria was not the best of cooks. With this in mind, he made due with the cheese and sipped the good, full-bodied wine by his little fire.
He was proud of his life's work, some of which was in the glass that caught the firelight and gleamed deep, deep red. The wine had been a giftone of many given to him on his retirement. Though everyone knew the retirement was only a technicality. Even with his aching bones and a heart that had grown weak, Bernardo would walk the vineyard, test the grapes, watch the sky and smell the air.
He lived for wine.
He died for it.
He drank, nodding by the fire, with a blanket tucked around his thin legs. Through his mind ran images of sun-washed fields, of his wife laughing, of himself showing his son how to support a young vine, to prune a mature one. Of La Signora standing beside him between the rows their grandfathers had tended.
Signore Baptista, she said to him when their faces were still young, we have been given a world. We must protect it.
And so they had.
The wind whistled at the windows of his little house. The fire died to embers.
And when the pain reached out like a fist, squeezing his heart to death, his killer was six thousand miles away, surrounded by friends and associates, enjoying a perfectly poached salmon, and a
From the window where that wind tried to sneak, he could see the skeletons as they made their steady climb up the rises. They would take on flesh and life with time, and not wither as a man did. Such was the miracle of the grape.
He could see the shadows and shapes of the great castello which ruled those vines, and ruled those who tended them.
It was lonely now, in the night, in the winter, when only servants slept in the castello and the grapes had yet to be born.
He wanted the spring, and the long summer that followed it when the sun would warm his innards and ripen the young fruit. He wanted, as it seemed he always had, one more harvest.
Bernardo ached with the cold, deep in the bones. He considered heating some of the soup his granddaughter had brought to him, but his Annamaria was not the best of cooks. With this in mind, he made due with the cheese and sipped the good, full-bodied wine by his little fire.
He was proud of his life's work, some of which was in the glass that caught the firelight and gleamed deep, deep red. The wine had been a giftone of many given to him on his retirement. Though everyone knew the retirement was only a technicality. Even with his aching bones and a heart that had grown weak, Bernardo would walk the vineyard, test the grapes, watch the sky and smell the air.
He lived for wine.
He died for it.
He drank, nodding by the fire, with a blanket tucked around his thin legs. Through his mind ran images of sun-washed fields, of his wife laughing, of himself showing his son how to support a young vine, to prune a mature one. Of La Signora standing beside him between the rows their grandfathers had tended.
Signore Baptista, she said to him when their faces were still young, we have been given a world. We must protect it.
And so they had.
The wind whistled at the windows of his little house. The fire died to embers.
And when the pain reached out like a fist, squeezing his heart to death, his killer was six thousand miles away, surrounded by friends and associates, enjoying a perfectly poached salmon, and a
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Nora Roberts
Nora Roberts is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than 200 novels. She is also the author of the bestselling In Death series written under the pen name J. D. Robb. There are more than 500 million copies of her books in print.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Nora Roberts
- 2002, 496 Seiten, Maße: 10,9 x 17,2 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Jove
- ISBN-10: 0515132187
- ISBN-13: 9780515132182
- Erscheinungsdatum: 15.07.2011
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Juicy...smoothly written. The New York TimesA page-turner...intoxicating. The Fort Worth Star-Telegram
Vintage Roberts. People
[Roberts]...renders the Napa Valley so clearly, with so much affection, that at times you d swear The Villa is illustrated an intelligent, fast-paced story. The Minneapolis Star Tribune
Rich in emotion and rife with conflict...this sweeping saga of Northern California wine-making steeps the reader in a heady mix of sex, scandal and the excesses of the supremely wealthy. Publishers Weekly
Take a mesmerizing trip through the vineyards of Napa and Italy as the amazing Nora Roberts delivers yet another exciting, sensuous and fantastic tale of love, murder, revenge and family. RT Book Reviews
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