Cover
title page
The Winemaker’s Dinner:
Amuse Bouche
...
Dr. Ivan Rusilko
...
Omnific Publishing
Dallas
Copyright Information
The Winemaker’s Dinner: Amuse Bouche, Copyright © 2013 by Dr. Ivan Rusilko
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
...
Omnific Publishing
10000 North Central Expressway, Suite 400, Dallas, TX 75231
www.omnificpublishing.com
...
First Omnific eBook edition, April 2013
...
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
...
Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
...
Rusilko, Dr. Ivan.
The Winemaker’s Dinner: Amuse Bouche / Dr. Ivan Rusilko – 1st ed.
ISBN: 978-1-623420-51-2
...
Cover Design by Micha Stone
Interior Book Design by Micha Stone
Photography by John Conroy (JohnConroyPhotography.com)
Cover Model: Dr. Ivan Rusilko and Adrianne Martinez
Amuse Bouche
“I’m modeling a little, and medically I’m organizing the debut of a new weight-loss program that amps up your metabolism using—”
And then I lost my train of thought. Everything around me faded to black, and the chatter dissolved to a distant hum. At that exact second, in that perfect moment, in that precise spot, my heart stopped. A miracle had just stepped onto the dance floor.
This miracle didn’t have wings, and it didn’t have a halo. She simply didn’t need them.
All she needed was a ruby red dress—on that perfect body with that hair and those eyes. Holy shit, those eyes. Even from a distance I could decipher that they were clear pools of blue or green that a man like me could drown in. No doubt they’d sparkle like gems under the right light. I needed to get a closer look. But how?
“What, do you want us to beg?”
“What?” Oh, fuck! My ongoing conversation had totally slipped my mind. The group gathered around me now stared as if I’d suffered from a direct hit from a stun gun.
“Sorry, lost my train of thought,” I managed with what I hoped was a winning smile. “Yeah, I’m doing good. All is groovy, really.”
Underwhelmed, the group sidestepped my shitty answer and moved on to talk about TV casting or some such bullshit.
I could’ve cared less. Back to the red dress. Fuck! Where did she go? Ahh… there she is. I stood and admired her from afar, this lady in red who had struck me speechless and apparently completely paralyzed. Only once before had something like this happened. Irena. Irena fucking Stang. Her name sent shivers down my spine. Not particularly bad ones and not good ones, but shivers just the same.
But look at this girl. I watched her maneuver through the crowd effortlessly. Just her walk made me weak in the knees. I chuckled as every man I could see nearly broke his neck trying to catch a peek of her tight ass in the perfectly cut dress. It was hilarious and sexy as hell all at the same time. It seems hot girl in a red dress has a universal effect on the species.
I raised a complimentary eyebrow, impressed by the way she snagged two wine glasses from a passing tray and avoided the shit show gathering at the free bar along her path. Clever girl. I like that. But wait…who’s that other glass for? Who was she looking for? Don’t be some old-ass playboy, please. My stomach turned over at the thought. Don’t be a climber, pretty girl. Please don’t be a climber.
I looked over, past Kevin and Dirk who ignored me as I remained tuned out of their conversation. Though it was
title page
The Winemaker’s Dinner:
Amuse Bouche
...
Dr. Ivan Rusilko
...
Omnific Publishing
Dallas
Copyright Information
The Winemaker’s Dinner: Amuse Bouche, Copyright © 2013 by Dr. Ivan Rusilko
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
...
Omnific Publishing
10000 North Central Expressway, Suite 400, Dallas, TX 75231
www.omnificpublishing.com
...
First Omnific eBook edition, April 2013
...
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
...
Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
...
Rusilko, Dr. Ivan.
The Winemaker’s Dinner: Amuse Bouche / Dr. Ivan Rusilko – 1st ed.
ISBN: 978-1-623420-51-2
...
Cover Design by Micha Stone
Interior Book Design by Micha Stone
Photography by John Conroy (JohnConroyPhotography.com)
Cover Model: Dr. Ivan Rusilko and Adrianne Martinez
Amuse Bouche
“I’m modeling a little, and medically I’m organizing the debut of a new weight-loss program that amps up your metabolism using—”
And then I lost my train of thought. Everything around me faded to black, and the chatter dissolved to a distant hum. At that exact second, in that perfect moment, in that precise spot, my heart stopped. A miracle had just stepped onto the dance floor.
This miracle didn’t have wings, and it didn’t have a halo. She simply didn’t need them.
All she needed was a ruby red dress—on that perfect body with that hair and those eyes. Holy shit, those eyes. Even from a distance I could decipher that they were clear pools of blue or green that a man like me could drown in. No doubt they’d sparkle like gems under the right light. I needed to get a closer look. But how?
“What, do you want us to beg?”
“What?” Oh, fuck! My ongoing conversation had totally slipped my mind. The group gathered around me now stared as if I’d suffered from a direct hit from a stun gun.
“Sorry, lost my train of thought,” I managed with what I hoped was a winning smile. “Yeah, I’m doing good. All is groovy, really.”
Underwhelmed, the group sidestepped my shitty answer and moved on to talk about TV casting or some such bullshit.
I could’ve cared less. Back to the red dress. Fuck! Where did she go? Ahh… there she is. I stood and admired her from afar, this lady in red who had struck me speechless and apparently completely paralyzed. Only once before had something like this happened. Irena. Irena fucking Stang. Her name sent shivers down my spine. Not particularly bad ones and not good ones, but shivers just the same.
But look at this girl. I watched her maneuver through the crowd effortlessly. Just her walk made me weak in the knees. I chuckled as every man I could see nearly broke his neck trying to catch a peek of her tight ass in the perfectly cut dress. It was hilarious and sexy as hell all at the same time. It seems hot girl in a red dress has a universal effect on the species.
I raised a complimentary eyebrow, impressed by the way she snagged two wine glasses from a passing tray and avoided the shit show gathering at the free bar along her path. Clever girl. I like that. But wait…who’s that other glass for? Who was she looking for? Don’t be some old-ass playboy, please. My stomach turned over at the thought. Don’t be a climber, pretty girl. Please don’t be a climber.
I looked over, past Kevin and Dirk who ignored me as I remained tuned out of their conversation. Though it was
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