Not yet. I bought it in Kindle format. I'll read it soon. I have heard good things.

Thanks so much - it sounds fantastic. My birthday is next month, so I have requested it.

Jackie

Just placed it in my shopping cart!
We should post interesting finds like this.
Thanks.

Just got home from a reading and book signing, met the author. The story sounds fascinating! Can't wait to get started reading the book. Bought two extras to give as gifts.

Connie,
Could you share the image of the rose you have in your mind's eye after hearing the reading?

Andrea said that the rose is a China much like Old Blush, but the fragrance is strong and fruity and memorable, and the flowers much better than Old Blush. The rose was given to his g-g-g-g grandmother while she was in Paris ... Italian mother was unable to bear the separation from her son while he was at school ... given to her by none other than her French friend Josephine Bonaparte in the 1810s, according to the ancestor's diary.

Andrea did not give away the ending of the book (good author behavior), but he did say the his quest came to a conclusion ... good thing, because he had already signed a contract to write the book, and it was looking for a long time like his quest was going no where.

The reading was well attended. So much so that those of us who waited till the end to buy our books had to order them, because the two cases the book seller brought were snapped up quietly by attendees while Andrea was speaking. (I'll have my books on Friday.) He is a fascinating speaker, and the writing style drew me in and held my interest as he read. (Doesn't hurt to have be listening to a story read with a lovely Italian accent.)

Andrea is not a gardener; he is a journalist. Searching the history of this rose was a quest to document a facet of the history of his family itself. For those of us who hunt roses, and who research and document our families, this book seems like the best combination of both.

In my mind ... I am thinking that the rose may be Napoleon. Those of you who may have the book, or are buying it and will finish it before I can ... don't spoil it for me.

I just got it in the mail. I'm looking forward to reading it.

I reserved my copy online on the Barnes & Noble website.
They sent me a text 30 minutes later that it was on hold for me at the register.

I love this convenience.

Beats driving around going to out of stock locations
or scouring the shelves for a title.

I cannot wait to start reading my book!

I have decided to take mine with me to the HRF conference in England in two weeks. Rose reading for a rose trip is appropriate. Now I'm having a devil of a time keeping away from it till the trip.

For those of you who read the book, no discussions of the end to spoil it for those of us who haven't read it yet, okay.

I'm savoring reading this gem of a rose book. I took it with me to Starbucks
this morning. This passage captivated me.

..."scattered around the property were sixty or so natural hybrids that had come to life spontaneously in Eleonora's garden---------the result of secretive affairs between her roses. She did not know who there parent roses were, nor did she seem particularly interested..."

Does this really happen? Do tell!

Sure it does. Open pollinated seedlings.

John Walden (formerly with Jackson & Perkins) called them "God Roses."

The late Col. Mel Hulse called them "Bird Drops."

When you put many extraordinary roses together in a small space, magic sometimes happens.

I really enjoyed the book, the "wacky" rose lovers, the historical settings and the final denouement.

However, I wonder what any of you though of this sentence (page 159):

A fine looking "Duchess of Portland", of a red so deep as immediately to betray, It's Chinese inheritance, stood proudly in the middle of the patch.

Depending upon the conditions, I'd think DoP could easily be a deep enough color that someone without a lot of horticultural experience might call it "red."

In fact, the term "pink" didn't come into common usage as we know it now until relatively late. Wikipedia says:
"As noted and referenced above, the word "pink" was first used as a noun to refer to the color known today as pink in the 17th century."

Before that, what WE call "pink" was usually called "light red." Which, when you think about it, it IS.

:-) JERI

I read it in May, enjoyed it, and reviewed it on my blog (link below).

Here is a link that might be useful: Garden Musings Blog on Chasing the Rose

Jeri the emphasis was on "Chinese" and not pink. I was under the impression that Portlands had no China blood in them.

Though thanks for pointing out to me the pink vs red nuance.

It's like the annoying "horticultural" blue, which can be anything from mauve to purple, but rarely if ever blue...

PR thanks for the link.

Oh, I see what you meant.

Though modern DNA research has demonstrated a lack of China influence in the Portland pedigree --Chinas, apparently, were THOUGHT to be part of the Portland heredity. (I haven't spent a lot of time with Portlands, as on the whole they are not my best roses.)

I suspect this author -- no horticulturist -- was TOLD that China influence was there, and so, believed it.

BESIDE THAT, the early Portlands very likely were eventually crossed with Chinas. They crossed EVERYTHING with Chinas, in the early days. And why not?

So SOME roses now classed as Portlands very likely do have a China in the Woodpile -- so to speak.

JERI

Sorry Jeri, but you won't dispossess the few remontant European roses of their non China heritage, would you?!

:-)