Whiskey Darling

By April Moran

~Allie Darling

My new boss doesn't like me, but that doesn't stop me from fantasizing about him. That's all it can ever be, though. Fantasies.

Flynn Alexander hired me because I have a talent, a very special talent I've worked hard to perfect. He says it's a trick, useful but still a trick. He plans to exploit it.

In the business of whiskey, a world where men have ruled for centuries, I'm making my mark. I'll prove I belong here. I'll earn their respect and my place.

All I have to do is ignore my thirst for Flynn Alexander.

~Flynn Alexander

Devil's Gold Distilleries has a new employee. And I can't stop thinking about her.

She's smart. Clever enough not to get involved with her boss. Strong enough to resist the attraction we both feel. And so beautiful I forget my own rules.

But like a tumbler of rare whiskey that must be savored, one sip of Allie Darling won't satisfy me. I want all of her. The burn. The sweet. The fire.

Will we give in to temptation or keep our distance?

All is fair in love and whiskey, and one more taste might shatter us both.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: April Moran Books
• Release date: Mar 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9798201242244

April Moran

About the Author April has been writing since she was in elementary school. She still has those old notebooks and for a giggle might let you read them. Her style has sharpened since, but the belief in the power of romance has never changed. Readers will always find a happy ending at the end of her novels –but only after their favorite characters endure great angst! April lives on Florida’s Emerald Coast and has been married for 32 years to her high school sweetheart. They have one grown daughter. April is tolerated by a sassy Quarter Horse and suffers a severe rock-n-roll addiction. When not writing romantic tales about dashing, alpha heroes, and confident, sassy heroines, she and her husband attend concerts and plan trips to Disneyworld and Nashville with their daughter and son-in-law.

Book preview

Introduction

She’s whiskey in a teacup.

Take a sip and see.

Chapter 1

Nashville, Tennessee

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Allie Darling

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How can this be work when I love it so much?

The liquid rests in my mouth.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Five heartbeats before I roll it around on my tongue.

Endorphins burst inside my veins. My pulse accelerates. My cheeks flush with warmth as the fluid slides down my throat. I was born for this. Genetically predisposed. Hardwired. It’s in my blood. People pay good money to see me do this. To watch me swallow.

Tonight, more women than men are in attendance. They’re enjoying the show, and that empowers me. It makes me a bit dizzy with happiness.

When the finish comes, I savor it.

Silky.

Smooth.

Warm like spiced honey.

I already knew it would be.

Eight years ago, beneath the stars of a June twilight, I discovered this surprising talent. One which could morph into an addiction if I’m not careful. If I were prone to excess, it might consume me.

But all this comes with a price, and it’s a sad commentary on my life. No time for love. Or relationships. And forget dating. This career consumes everything. I’m constantly learning. Analyzing. Dissecting.

Drops linger in the corner of my mouth, and I relish them, pretty sure if I died this very moment, I’d tiptoe into Heaven with no regrets.

Tilting my head back, I close my eyes until the nuances flood my senses.

Sheer perfection.

Notes of maple and cocoa. A suggestion of burnt sugar. A tiny hint of spice. Well-balanced finish. Can you taste all the flavors, too? Take a moment. Really concentrate as they come through. When you swallow, you should get a finish of tart cherries. I hold the glass so the amber-gold sample is illuminated by the bar’s lighting. Single barrel… Four Roses.

Silence meets my declaration as I take a sip of ginger ale.

Always clean the palette before moving on.

It was the first rule Connor Morgan taught those under his tutelage. The master distiller drilled that into recruits at Brougham Shire Whiskeys. A sentiment he applied to both women and whiskey.

Is the barrel right? I ask, dismissing thoughts of my former mentor.

Girl. Jade Beaudette shakes her head, sending jet-black curls bouncing around her shoulders. You’ve got some powerful voodoo. She examines the corresponding card, flashes it with a grin, and downs the remaining liquor.

As the crowd claps their hands, she taps the glass on the tabletop. It draws attention, although two girls ordering multiple shots of whiskey will do that. We’ve had the eye of nearly every guy here from the moment Mac delivered the samples.

I arch an eyebrow. Well?

Jade’s ebony eyes twinkle. You always get it right on the first sip.

A blonde takes a cautious swallow of her sample. The sash draped across her breasts proclaims her to be a maid of honor. It’s cool you can do that. I only drink liquor mixed with something, you know? The whiskey burns her throat. Her nose wrinkles. There’s really a school for this?

There is, but what I do can’t be taught. Refined, but not taught.

Again, I explain there are courses that will enhance one’s knowledge of bourbons and whiskeys. Women ask the majority of questions about how I became a freelance whiskey ambassador. Curious to know how much money I make. How many free drinks I score. If guys hit on me all the time.

There’s an important element my audience should know. It helps if you like whiskey and showcase your enthusiasm, I say. Distilleries, and places like The Glenn, are always searching for the Four Ps. Passionate People Promoting their Products.

That’s why she’s known as Whiskey Darling, folks, Jade interjects. Lucky for me, Allie always needs an assistant. And I’m always happy to help.

We’ll try scotch next week. I grin because Jade hates scotch. I’m not quite as proficient at identifying those, so it will be a challenge.

Jade groans good-naturedly as the dispersing crowd laughs. The bachelorette party discusses their tab while planning the next bar hop.

Be sure you catch our Facebook and Instagram feeds. I give the camera set-up a warm smile. If you’re in Nashville, reserve your spot for Monday and Wednesday sampling nights here at The Glenn. See you next time on A Whiskey Journey, with me, Allie Darling, and my lovely assistant and friend, Jade Beaudette.

Since returning from Ireland a year ago, I’ve worked at The Glenn. Sitting on the outskirts of Nashville’s Broadway scene, the bar is a popular hangout for downtown residents. Upscale, muted-roar loud, and crowded just enough with a ‘place to be’ vibe, it’s always packed with graduate students, professionals, and musicians. Social media touts it as a local hot spot offering upscale whiskey samplings, so you can bet on random tourists popping in as well.

My online feeds have amplified attendance and popularity. The Instagram page recently hit seventy-two thousand followers. I’m responsible for more than half of that number.

Signing off with my signature raised tumbler, I scribble out my list of the whiskeys. Which ones elicited enthusiasm with the crowd. Which proved lackluster. How many people finished their samples.

Jade stacks the highball glasses three high into two towers. We work silently until one of the towers goes toppling over. Remnants of whiskey spills across my journal page.

Elbows bracing on the table’s polished surface, the guy who bumped our table sniggers while I mop at the liquid with a bar napkin. Thankfully, there’s not much damage.

Doing shots, ladies?

He’s not bad looking, just drunk. Sloppy. Grinning like he just hit the jackpot, he waves at his three friends who are grabbing seats at a vacant table.

He spares a glance at The Bride and Seven Bachelorettes, and I can see the cogs of his mind churning. He’s calculating how much striking up a conversation with them might cost his wallet.

More than he can spare, apparently, because his attention centers on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his buddies give him the thumbs up.

Whatcha got… rum? Vodka? He picks up one of the glasses and sniffs it.

Obviously, he missed the whole whiskey sampling.

Piss off, mate, Jade says breezily, her accent making me smile.

With her mixed heritage, Jade is blessed with an exotic beauty. It’s intimidating, and she’s neither Australian nor British. She just likes messing with people and trying out phony accents.

She’s been my best friend since high school. Pretty terrifying when she wants to be. Right now, she’s tipsy and terrifying. Drunk Guy shrinks back, but instead of giving up, he plants his feet.

We were sampling whiskey, but show’s over now. I soften the blow of rejection, but he’s blitzed. Five minutes from now, he won’t remember us. No more shots, but thanks for the offer.

Whiskey? he sputters, burying his nose in the tumbler again. That’s hardcore. What’s that shit you women usually like? Combos, right?

Idiot. I smile, even though it’s tight. I think you mean Cosmo.

Do all men think whiskey is reserved exclusively for the male species?

Whatever. Always thought of whiskey as a man’s drink. How ‘bout I get the next round? Whatcha drinking, sweet thing? He sees Jade is a bit unsteady on her feet. Her quick wit remains intact, however.

Didn’t you say you wanted a Cosmo? Jade’s eyes widen innocently to his question before she turns, flashing me a quick smile. Her eyes comically cross as she mouths, What a dick.

Drunk Guy leers at her, completely ignorant of the insult.

My friend’s not so sweet, I confess to him with a low laugh. Anyway, we’re done drinking tonight.

Aw, come on. We’ll stick with whiskey if ya want. He leans so heavily on our table, it’s in danger of toppling. Cutting his eyes at me, he adds, Don’t be such a downer, sweetheart.

What part of ‘piss off’ do you not understand? I snap back, then disappointment curls inside me. Chasing off customers isn’t my goal. I usually keep my cool with drunk, misogynist fools, but this guy is making it hard to do that.

Covering my irritation, I tuck my journal inside my purse.

When he pushes away, the table shakes so violently the second tower of glasses tumbles in a loud clatter. There’s the angry scrape of a chair against hardwood flooring somewhere behind us, but Mac’s scowl distracts me. As the manager on duty, he’s been watching the exchange from behind the bar. He badly wants to intervene.

I shake my head, backing him off. We have this under control.

Bitches. Drunk Guy gestures at the shot glasses with a broad sweep of his arm. Waste of good whiskey, if you ask me.

Oh, no. Jade giggles in mock horror. "You called us a bad word. Hope we don’t spend