The Perfect Margarita

Recently, I decided not to focus on anything about writing, being an author, or having a book published. What with Death Runs in the Family, 3rd book in the Alvarez Family Murder Mystery Series and Corliss, my suspense short story out within weeks of each other, and banging away on the keyboard trying to finish the Persephone Cole Series, which debuts in September, I needed a break. So we zipped off to Las Vegas for a few days for a little R&R. We decided to drive, the pissed-off skies being what they are, and after several hours arrived at Barstow, California, mentioned in the famous song, (Get Your Kicks On) Route 66. We usually stop there when we drive to Vegas, get a motel room for the night, and have dinner at the Idle Spurs Restaurant. It’s a tradition. A silly one, but there you are. However, as this was the first time we arrived in Barstow on a Monday, we couldn’t go to the Idle Spurs. Closed, dontchaknow. The best laid plans. We wound up at the Los Domingos, where we stumbled upon good Mexican food and even better cocktails. Life being what it is, you never know when you are going to have a serendipitous moment like that. So instead of books, let’s talk booze. Serendipitously, of course. And enter Max, the Mixologist. We walked into the Los Domingos Restaurant and there was Max standing behind a pretty interesting bar. Norman was in the mood for a Margarita, but not the super sweet kind made with lots of Rose’s lemon-lime mix. That is more or less a north of the border tradition. He wanted one just like we could get in Mexico, Cuernavaca, specifically. Years ago the best Margarita we’ve ever had – and we’ve been searching endlessly…

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