Don’t Forget the Wine with that Romance, People!
I bet you were expecting a nice little article where I talk about myself as a writer and the craft that I love so very much. While that does sound fun (I mean, what’s not to like about discussing either topic?), I am truly a Romance reader above all things.
That said, I’d like to raise a very serious topic. As a Californian, I am appalled by the lack of attention toward drinking the correct wine with one’s romance. This is simply…wrong! An abomination. An act against nature herself.
Don’t let food get all of the pairing attention! Romance deserves the right wine just as much as a filet mignon or tasty chocolate soufflé. So, let’s begin with the basics.
First, to pick the correct wine you should consider the following things:
1. Subgenre (Historical, Paranormal, Contemporary, Cozy, Erotica, etc…)
2. Writing Style (Snarky, Dramatic, Contemporary, Traditional)
3. Indie or Traditionally Published
4. Level of Steam (White Gloves, Respectable Fun, Oh Maybe My Mom Shouldn’t Read This, I’m Blushing, and Is That Even Legal?)
5. Main Male Character’s Primary Traits (Because it’s all about the hotty.)
Now, since there are almost as many possible combinations of these elements as there are wines, I’ll focus on a few examples.
Example 1: Novel is Katie MacAlister’s, Sex, Lies, and Vampires
Subgenre: Paranormal/Writing Style: Snarky-Contemporary/Novel is Traditionally Published/Level of Steam: I’m Blushing/Main Male Character’s Primary Traits: Dark and Brooding
Ideal Wine Pairing: A Carneros Pinot Noir (Sebastiani Winery, Artesa, Domaine Carneros, or Smoking Loon are my fav’s.)
First, anything with a vampire in it requires red wine. Period. Let get that out of the way.
Second, a lighter wine is always best with Snark. (If you get too snockered, you might miss the jokes.)
Third, I find that wines with a smoky bouquet and currant undertones go extremely well with dark and brooding heroes. I have no idea why, but they do.
Example 2: Novel is ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE WITH…A GOD? (Well, what do ya know? That’s mine!)
Subgenre: Paranormal/Writing Style: Snarky/Novel is Indie/Steam: Oh Maybe My Mom Shouldn’t Read This/Main Male Character’s Primary Traits: Dark and Brooding
Ideal Wine Pairing: Viognier. This aromatic Rhone varietal comes from a temperamental grape with vines that don’t mature for 15-20 years (i.e. takes a long time to mature—just like my hero.) In France, it is generally blended into Chardonnays as the residual sugars cut tartness. (My fav’s are DuMol, Cold Heaven, and E. Guigal Condrieu.)
First, there are no vampires in this novel, and there is a boatload of Snark. This calls for a white wine!
Second, this novel moves extremely fast, and our hero, though dark and brooding, is a bit of an over-the-top alpha. So, since Viognier has a lot of personality and will sweetening things up, it will complement our hero and novel pace nicely.
Finally, the sexual tension can get a bit overwhelming at times, and since Viognier should be drunk chilled, this should help your body keep cool as things heat up!
Well, I certainly hope you’ve enjoyed this and that the next time you pick up a good romance novel, you’ll treat yourself to not just a good wine, but the right wine!
For those of you who’d like to hear more of my wine-Romance pairing tips, don’t forget to check out my other Blog Tour stops!
Title: Accidentally in Love With…a God? (Accidentally Yours Series, Book 1)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
Length: 88,000 Words
Sub-Genres: Contemporary, Paranormal
In real life, he’s an enigma. Maybe just a teensie jealous. Definitely overbearing. He’s also a voice only she can hear.
So who or what is he? He won’t say. But if she wants to be free, to be normal, Emma will have to trek to the jungles once ruled by the Mayans and find the forgotten ruin holding the answers.
However, the ruthless deity she’s about to unknowingly unleash on the modern world might not be so easily extracted from her life. Bottom line, he’s got enemies, and now, so does she.
Chapter 1 - Present Day
Wasn’t dating supposed to be fun? Because this was anything but. At any moment, a man I’d never met—approximately six-foot-three, brown hair, and soul-piercing blue eyes, according to his online profile—would walk through the door of the Conga Lounge, give his name to the hostess, and scream hysterically at the sight of me. Okay. He wouldn’t scream. Aloud, anyway. Not that I was heinous, but anyone who looked closely enough might notice I was…different.
I eyeballed the door, contemplating making a mad dash before he arrived.
No, you can do this, I thought while staring at the condensation channeling down my glass of water, my leg bouncing under the table. Why had my date picked a corny theme-bar that looked like Gilligan’s Island threw up? What sort of man goes novelty on the first date? Bad sign. Bad sign.
At least the other patrons—seated around the faux-torch lit room, leisurely sipping Bahama Mama’s and Mai Tai’s—were oblivious to my impending meltdown.
I felt the gentle whoosh of summer evening air as the door swung open and the noise from the traffic-packed New York street poured in. A tall man with sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, and tousled brown hair floated in—yes, floated—as if he’d ridden in on a cloud straight from Hot-Man Land. He wore a black polished-cotton shirt, which hugged his well-constructed chest, and low slung jeans that molded to his lean physique. He wasn’t just good looking, he was Milan runway edible.
“Oh, sweet Virgin of Guadalupe, please be Jake,” I muttered under my breath.
Like a cliché from a movie, our eyes met from across the room, and his face lit up with a dimple-framed smile. My heart nearly stopped. “Thank you, Virgin,” I said, releasing my breath.
He strutted across the restaurant, a magnet for every female in the room.
“Emma?” he said in a deep slow-churned voice then smiled and held out his hand. I stood up in a daze, mentally pinching myself.
“You are Emma, right? Curly, shoulder-length, red hair, five-three. Several crazed female stalkers for best friends?”
Oh, no. What had my roommates done? Since the whole online-blind-date thing was their idea, they assured me they’d carefully “screened” the guy. But I thought they were just joking about breaking into his apartment and rummaging through his underwear drawer. And dammit, they hadn’t even bothered to dish. Tighty whities or boxers?
I looked down at his outstretched hand. Oh, shoot. Shake hands. “Sorry, it’s just—I wasn’t expecting someone so…” I swallowed and placed my palm in his. It was warm and inviting, just like his eyes. “Um…so tall.”
“And I wasn’t expecting a woman so…” He paused to look me over like a dog eyeing a giant juicy steak. “…adorable.”
“Adorable?” said the deep male voice inside my head. “What kind of moron compliments a woman with the word ‘adorable’? Does he think you’re a goddamned puppy?”
Couldn’t I have one, just one lousy day without the voice? My blood began to boil instantly, but I resisted the urge to snap back with something lame like, “Well, maybe Jake senses I want to lick him from head to toe. Maybe even have a go at his leg.” But then I thought better of myself. Because tonight, I was on a mission, and nothing would stop me from climbing my own mental Mt. Everest: convince myself that I, Emma Keane, could feel attraction for a real live man with ten fingers, ten toes, arms and legs, and the other necessary dangly bits needed to make a relationship normal. All I needed was the right man.
The other person I needed to prove this to wasn’t exactly a person. Okay—truth be told, he was a mysterious voice only I could hear. Yes. A luscious, deep velvety voice so seductive that it could turn me into a quivering mindless puddle of need with one little sigh. Sound crazy? That wasn’t the half of it. But it was why I had to do this. If I wanted a shot at normal, I had to take this first step.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Before taking up a permanent residence in the San Francisco Bay Area, Mimi spent time living near NYC (became a shopaholic), in Mexico City (developed a taste for very spicy food), and Arizona (now hates jumping chollas, but pines for sherbet sunsets). Her love of pre-Hispanic culture, big cities, and romance inspires her to write when she’s not busy with kids, work, and life…or getting sucked into a juicy novel.
She hopes that someday, leather pants for men will make a big comeback and that her writing might make you laugh when you need it most.