Eight Hundred Grapes Novels & Stories

She found joy in their curiosity, their endless questions, and their boundless energy. One sunny afternoon, Alex, the youngest of Theo’s children, tugged on Emilia’s hand. “Grandma, can you show me how to pick the best grapes?” Emilia smiled, leading him to the nearest vine. “You see these?” she said, pointing to a plump cluster. “You look for ones that are full, firm, and rich in color. They’re the ones ready to tell their story.” “Stories?” Alex asked, his eyes wide. “Yes,” Emilia replied, her voice gentle. “Every grape has a story, just like every person does. And when we care for them, they grow into something beautiful—just like you.”

He pointed out my footwear. "They are comfortable." Striking his biceps, I sat in my usual jeep location. Next to him. "Are you sure you're a Campbell?" He asked the everyday question and as usual, I shrugged my shoulders. "You have no resemblance to any of your brothers." "Because I'm a girl." As I opened the wooden box at the back, I found the fewest Syrah grapes. (Syrah is also referred to as Shiraz; a variety of grapes) "Your brothers are completely turning our business into a winery," said Fabrizio for the reason of a nearly empty box.

In reality, he hasn't done anything yet. "Yossie," Andre calls softly. He hands her the notebook he just wrote in. "Please check it. I've been noting everything Olive said since earlier." Yossie just glanced at it briefly but couldn't refuse. Andre's expression seemed so pleading. So, it's better to accept it properly. When she read it, her eyes widened in disbelief. "Olive, it's like there's still nothing that can be done." "Exactly. That's why I asked you guys to come here." Olive plucks a green grape from the table. "I just found out that green grapes are actually tasty. I usually eat the black ones, you know, or the slightly elongated black ones."

I mumbled. “See. You like it, right?” I looked at Noah. “Is it still far?” “Look ahead.” I followed Noah’s instructions, looking forward. A huge gate opened automatically. My eyes were mesmerized by how beautiful this place was. The gate was made of artistically shaped iron with decorations that looked like grapes, as if the fence were a winding grape vine. When we got inside, I saw a massive vineyard. Plump red grapes were hanging from every branch. My mouth hung open. I couldn’t believe I was seeing a place this beautiful.

I grumble at him, and he smiles, smugly. "So this harem," I continue, "Describe it." "Oh, you know. Typical harem. Lots of diaphanously-clothed nymphs all plotting against one another and manoeuvring to be the one who gets to feed me peeled grapes." "Why would you peel grapes?" I wonder, aloud. "The skin is one of the best parts of a grape." "Particularly when wine-making", he agrees, "But I'm talking boudoir, not pinot-noir"

A slight mistake and you will see the path of heaven or may be hell , devils like him ruin in hell for sure. In the garden there was a slight plantation in the remote . Her eyes brightened like sparkle when she realised what was it . It was grapevines. Dark black grapes was settling in the middle of tendrils . " go ahead " he said as he saw ogling it keenly . She doesn't not more to tell . She strides toward the vines and grabbed it . " can I pluck it " she asked excitement beaming on her eyes like a kid as she turned to ask permission from the sole owner .

Jane Yoris was there. "Elder Yoris, would you like some fruit? Let me peel these for you," Elaine was saying, her voice uncharacteristically warm. "No, Elaine. Thank you. I’m quite alright." But my mother was insistent, her bandaged hands trembling as she worked on a bunch of grapes. "These are local harvest. They help with the skin, keep the youth in the blood." She held a wet, peeled grape to Jane’s lips. Jane’s smile was strained, a flicker of disgust crossing her face as she looked at the gauze-wrapped hand.

Chapter 34 CAELUM I squinted my eyes and noticed Carlos, pulling his trousers up from his waist as he struggled with the basket of grapes, balancing it on his hips, “Mon signore! Grande. Migliore uve – very very supple!” He said between huff and puff, stumbling as he beckon us down at the bench, facing the stomping place. Rubin sat and her eyes widened when Carlos put the basket of grapes down at her feet, “This are the best harvest so far, try it, rufina!” Carlos held out a piece in front of her face and Rubin takes it, popping the grape in her mouth.

Since I didn’t own much, it didn’t take long. Then, I noticed something tucked beneath the bed. A navy blue journal. It was mine. Flipping it open, my eyes landed on memories I couldn’t recall but had once written. "Day one of our marriage. Shawn didn’t come home." "He said I was manipulative. That I drugged him to marry me. But I don’t even remember that night." "Attempt 1: He said even if I died in front of him, he wouldn’t flinch." "Attempt 100: If he still doesn’t care, and my parents still don’t love me, then maybe I’ll stop trying since no one in this world sees me."

I screamed on his face making him froze as he looks at my face stunned. I look around and I see that all the workers stop what they are doing and look at us. I look up to the vines and see this perfect ripe bulk of grape. I slowly pluck it and it is now safely in my hands, I pulled Henry’s hand still angry and pissed then force the bulk of ripe grapes into his hand.