Ember Ngata only wants two things out of life: to be reunited with her sisters, and to see people return to her café. Catering to people she never sees again, she experiences a loneliness that can’t be filled. As one of the last Whakamanu—a descendant of the Maori bird-god Tane—she holds on to the secrets of her decimated tribe. Family first.
TV personality and host of the popular show Back Road Eats, Austin Garten needs more in his life than Breadbasket America grilling. He’s tired of the safe routes and the easy and dependable foods his network loves to display. When his RV breaks down in Wyoming, and he learns about Kai, a Maori restaurant outside of Casper, his interest is piqued. Once Austin meets the proprietor, he wants more than just her food. He wants her.
The Solstice, the Maori New Year, is fast approaching, and with the heat in her kitchen ratcheting up, Ember realizes she can’t keep her secret for much longer. But will Austin be able to accept her? Or will her secret drive them apart?
Ember Ngata only wants two things out of life: to be reunited with her sisters, and to see people return to her café. Catering to people she never sees again, she experiences a loneliness that can’t be filled. As one of the last Whakamanu—a descendant of the Maori bird-god Tane—she holds on to the secrets of her decimated tribe. Family first.
TV personality and host of the popular show Back Road Eats, Austin Garten needs more in his life than Breadbasket America grilling. He’s tired of the safe routes and the easy and dependable foods his network loves to display. When his RV breaks down in Wyoming, and he learns about Kai, a Maori restaurant outside of Casper, his interest is piqued. Once Austin meets the proprietor, he wants more than just her food. He wants her.
The Solstice, the Maori New Year, is fast approaching, and with the heat in her kitchen ratcheting up, Ember realizes she can’t keep her secret for much longer. But will Austin be able to accept her? Or will her secret drive them apart?
“Rerouting.”
Austin Garten’s head snapped up. After a two-week tour of America’s breadbasket, living in an old RV, sampling some of the best barbecue the land had to offer, he wanted to get to Cheyenne and then get the hell home. SoCal called his name. He missed the beach, the ocean breeze … Hell, even the seagulls. Hearing the GPS say anything other than directions threw a wrench into an already tight schedule.
“What’s going on up there, Joel?”
Never one for words, the cameraman shrugged. “Accident, probably.”
As the host of GourmetTV’s newest celebration of smalltime restaurants, Austin had to be the talkative one. Right now, he needed to rest his scratchy throat. No amount of tea had helped, but they still had four restaurants to visit in Cheyenne, and who knows how many takes they’d need … People’s passion didn’t always translate to the small screen, and Ray’s editing magic only went so far.
“We’re taking one of those state roads,” Raylan said. “It’ll hook us up with I-80 to Cheyenne.”
Rubbing his temples against the ache settling between his eyes, he resigned himself to the extra travel time. If an accident had happened, those people were having a way worse day than he was. A little detour meant nothing at this point, since only the ocean and his one-bedroom waited for him. But, Lord, his bones yearned for his own bed, his own food, his comfortable, if stagnant, life.
When he signed up for this gig, he didn’t know the show would explode the way it had. No one did. He, Joel, and Ray loved travel and food, and having a gig that paid for both worked great for them. But as the longer stretches—like this one—grew more frequent, he dreamed of more time at home. Maybe opening a restaurant of his own, finding a nice girl, and building the life he’d always wanted—something he could be proud of, a life that’d be put on hold for as long as the execs kept renewing Back Road Eats.
Amazing how living your dream put your dreams on hold.
For the twentieth time, he read over the notes he’d made, adjusting adjectives and trying to recall flavors—hickory smoke, honey, bourbon, beer, maple—attempting to remember which restaurant those flavors belonged to, all to no avail. The Back Road blog might have a few minor errors. With a sigh, he flipped his notebook shut and hoped his bosses would understand the fuck-up. After a while, the flavors lost their punch.
Barbecue wasn’t his passion, but he didn’t get to make the rules, merely abide by them. He traveled where they told him to without too much negotiation. Hey, they paid the bills, right? Plus, he did get to meet some cool people. But he needed something, anything, to reignite his passion. A guy could only do so many shows about BBQ. Or pizza. Or burger joints.
His phone vibrated, drawing him away from his thoughts. The brief flood of relief ended once he focused on the words: He’s not doing well, son.
Swallowing against the knot in his throat, he wrote back, What’d they say? afraid of the answer. He and his father hadn’t been on good terms since Austin left home at seventeen to pursue a culinary career, but his mom remained his lifeline back to Duluth.
Hard to believe it’d been almost a decade since he’d left Georgia. Refusing to take restaurants in Atlanta hindered him at first, but the execs understood. Going anywhere near home caused more trouble than it ended up being worth.
For a few moments, the phone sat quiet. He imagined his mother sitting in the sunroom, dressed to the nines like always, regardless of the strain Dad’s illness put her through. Maybe she was wearing that pretty yellow suit she favored, her graying blonde hair pulled back in a French twist, makeup immaculate, with her favorite pearls on. “No matter how bad things get,” she always said, “you’ll feel better wearing whatever you consider your armor.” And since Dad got sick, she wore that suit more and more, according to what little gossip he found.
It won’t be long, she replied. Please come home.
“Shit,” he whispered. Duluth never was home.
“Everything okay back there, bud?” Ray asked. Twenty years Austin’s senior, the film editor had become more of a father figure in the last few years than his old man ever had. Part best friend, part mentor, Raylan doled out advice that got Austin through a lot of the tough times on the road. And some of the tougher ones his family caused.
“It’s Dad,” he said. “Not doing too good. Mom wants me to come down. Says it won’t be long.”
Ray cursed under his breath and unbuckled his seatbelt. In a couple seconds, he situated himself next to Austin at the table where weeks of notes sat out next to his laptop—which he used to transcribe his notes for the blog—letters, pictures, and other documents. Austin doubted he’d get much done now.
“You okay?”
“I’m not ready to go back there. I can’t let him look at me and tell me I’m a failure again, even if he is dyin’.”
“I know, kid. I know.” Clasping a hand on Austin’s shoulder, Ray glanced down at the piles of papers, some of them hospital bills. “You’ve done a good job helping your mom, though.”
“It’s just money. Not a replacement for your only kid not being there.” Running his fingers through his hair, he blew out a breath. “I’m gonna have to go, huh?”
“Seems like it. If nothing else, do it for her.”
Right. “After Cheyenne, I’ll make the necessary arrangements with the suits.”
“Good.” Ray squeezed his shoulder, then retreated back to the passenger seat.
Eyes heavy, Austin decided to catch a nap before they hit their next destination. Dreams of Cali danced in his mind, foam-crested waves beckoning him and his beat-up surfboard with their seductive rhythm. Looked like that’d have to wait, too.
***
A loud rumble and a groan from the engine woke Austin from a dream he barely remembered—something about orange fire, twinkling stars, and the most beautiful bird he’d ever seen, but the actual dream escaped him. Moments later, the RV wheezed, sputtered, and died, and his heart fell. Peeking out the window, he sighed at the expanse of dry grass and ocean of endless nothing surrounding them. Where were they?
He meandered out of the trundle and headed outside, where Ray stood at a smoking engine and Joel compulsively ran a hand through his shaggy hair in an attempt to calm his nerves. This is how horror movies start, Austin thought as he joined them. “She dead?”
“Looks like she’s on life support,” Joel answered.
Raylan kicked a tire. “Damn GPS took us out to the middle of nowhere.”
Yep, horror movie.
“We passed a garage about a mile back,” Ray said, looking back down the road. “If one of us hoofs it back there, maybe somebody can give us a tow.”
“I’ll go,” Joel said.
“I’ll go with you.” The guy would need help with talking to people he didn’t know, and Austin had already picked up some of his cameraman’s anxiety. At this point, he couldn’t handle any extra time on the road. Not with Dad’s prognosis looming over him. He’d have to go back to Cali first anyway to repack his suitcase, arrange a flight to Atlanta, work out a rental car, and have the network contact the other restaurants… Already his head ached.
With Ray guarding ol’ Beulah, the two started their long trek in the fading Wyoming evening. The time passed in amiable silence, with Joel thinking about god-knew-what and Austin swallowing the dread going back to Georgia spread through his system. He hadn’t texted his mother back, but he didn’t have service this far out, either. After they got settled, he’d write. He’d call the suits. And if necessary, he’d make the arrangements for his father.
When they reached the garage, a middle-aged man in stained blue coveralls had just locked the door. “Hey, wait a sec!” Austin called, wincing against the pain clawing his throat.
The guy, Jerry, from the name stitched into his coveralls, stared at them, seemingly stunned for a moment, then a grin blossomed on his face. “How can I help ya?”
Breathing a sigh of relief and thanking whatever gods were on last-minute RV-saving duty, Austin said, “Our RV broke down about a mile down the road. Think we can get a tow?”
While the man considered it, Austin started to sweat and prayed to every deity he could name for one good thing to happen on this damn trip. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon …
The man shrugged. “Sure thing.”
On the way back to the RV, piled onto the bench seat of Jerry’s tow truck, Austin took the opportunity to study the surrounding countryside with the hope of finding something interesting, but the blandness of the prairie grass and the few trees he spotted worsened his mood. His stomach rumbled loud enough to be heard over the truck’s diesel engine. The driver chuckled. “Sounds like you boys need some food.”
Austin wanted to comment that his entire life revolved around food but thought against it. “Got any recommendations?”
“Sure.” Now that the RV had come into view, Jerry slowed down and turned on his hazard lights. Ray sat on the pavement, propped up against one of the RV’s tires. He waved them over, looking as exhausted as Austin felt. “You should check out Kai. It’s not that far from the garage.”
“What kind of food is it?” His automatic reaction whenever someone mentioned a new restaurant. Right now, he didn’t particularly care; not when the nightmare of facing his dad one more time loomed over him.
“It’s pretty interesting stuff. The owner’s family’s from New Zealand, I heard.”
“You don’t know?”
“They ain’t that talkative.” He cut the engine. “Lessee what we got here.”
While the man worked, Austin turned over his suggestion. He knew next to nothing about New Zealand cuisine; the network had never thought to do a show on it. But, hey, it’d be a good experience, right? And maybe it’d convince him to try some of the Polynesian places near his apartment.
After about fifteen minutes of looking over the engine, Jerry hopped back down and wiped his hands on the rag in his back pocket. “Looks like your carburetor’s bad. This is an old RV. You guys ever converted the thing?”
They glanced between themselves. “Nope,” Joel said.
“That there’s your problem, then. These old girls ain’t made for this new fuel. You gotta do a conversion. I can take care of it for ya, but it’ll take a few days to get the parts in.”
Crap. Time to call the suits. “What’s the nearest town? We’ll have to get a hotel.”
“Casper.”
Ray grabbed his cell phone, tapped on the screen a few times, and huffed. “No signal.”
“Here. You boys load back into the truck. I’ll get this girl,” Jerry said, patting the side of the RV, “hitched up, and take y’all back to the shop. You can use the phone there. Then head on over to Kai. Ember’ll take care of ya.”
***
“New Zealand food, huh?” Ray asked.
Austin nodded. “That’s what the guy said.”
“At least it ain’t barbecue.”
A couple hours had passed since Austin’s call to the bosses. In that time, they’d gotten his credit card limit increased, arranged a couple rooms at a small hotel, and called a car rental place. Glorious conveniences he tried not to take for granted.
While he, Ray, and Joel sat clustered in one of the rooms, he stared at his cell phone and its four bars of service, fingers hovering over the screen with no idea how to respond to his mother. She hadn’t texted again, unsurprising since she had his sick father to deal with. No, he reminded himself. Dying.
Finally, he settled on telling her the truth. Dealing with a breakdown in Wyoming. Once we wrap up, I’ll make my way down.
Sent.
He hoped it’d bring her some comfort until he got there.
A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. His heart beat a hair faster, but enough to distress him, just like the idea of going to Duluth always did. So many missed birthdays, missed Christmases, forcing Mom to explain his absences in her social circles. The wear and tear on his family were never far from his mind, but that stubborn part of him that refused to give up on his dream also refused to face down his old man.
No amount of success Austin found on GourmetTV or with the blog or from his food critic days meant anything to Atlanta’s top defense attorney. Richard Garten’s only son would be a lawyer, dammit, just like his father before him. Frequently, Dad traced their lineage back to antebellum times, claiming that “lawyerin’ was in their blood.” But Austin’s heart wasn’t in law. It was in food. Food equaled life. Food brought people together. He infinitely enjoyed learning about recipes and spices and different techniques from their cook more than he ever liked listening to his father’s spiels about protecting the white-collar CEOs and COOs and presidents and oil magnates from lengthy prison sentences. In his youth, Austin believed his father did something good, but once he started following the news, he realized Richard Garten protected criminals and received grand payouts for his services.
In more ways than one, throat cancer seemed like karma fighting back.
“You guys just want to order in tonight?” Ray asked. “It’s getting pretty late, and I don’t feel up to finding this place in the dark, if it’s that far out of the way.”
About fourteen miles outside the city, off the same state road they’d broken down on.
“Gotta admit, I’m curious about it. Who the hell cooks food from New Zealand in Wyoming?”
“One of the great mysteries of life, which we will solve tomorrow.”
Ember is struggling with her restaurant and family when Austin and his crew fall in love with her food and offer to feature her in their show. Her father is terrified of her succeeding and drawing attention to them after having suffered the slaughter of their tribe (including Ember's mother and his wife) and escaping to Wyoming. Ember and her tribe are shapeshifters coveted for their gemstone feathers. Ember and her family are able to transform in to swans with coloring matching that of a gemstone, and when their feathers are shed, they harden to match the real thing even more closely. Austin is also facing family troubles, as his father is on his deathbed yet still refuses to talk to him. He refused to follow in his father's footsteps to become a lawyer, and they haven't spoken since.
The food descriptions in this book were very well-done, with unique and thoughtful ingredient combinations and detailed flavor profiles. Austin and Ember's passion for good food and talent for cooking come through very well as a result, which helps their chemistry a lot. The storyline concerning Ember's restaurant is also very effective, which is extremely necessary because the shapeshifting arc is not.
This is a great read for fantasy romance readers that don't care about or want focus on the fantasy side. The premise is a little confusing, more so because very little time is spent setting up and explaining it. If you care most about the couple's arc and only want fantasy for the fun of it, this won't bother you. Ember's ability to turn into a gemstone swan is mainly used to complicate her relationship with Austin while also making her more attractive. The author does tell us how much her heritage and this ability means to her, but little to no emotion comes through.
Austin and Ember's chemistry will pull you in, but lust seems to be the only emotion present in their relationship. But this is a quick read, so if you just want a little bit of spice and a quick story to perk you up, these won't be cons. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone looking for a good love story, though.
I think this book is perfect for readers fighting a slump, or looking for a quick and lighthearted read to enjoy.