Serendipity is a thing. Some may dismiss it all as cliché, but who is to say you can’t find a bit of romance in a bottle of wine?
After a very long week, I stopped in at our neighbourhood BC Liquor Store last night to purchase adult beverages. I headed right to the location where I knew my husband’s choice awaited.
Along the way, I spotted a gorgeous display full of summery rosé and a beautiful bottle winked at me. Named after Baudelaire’s classic book of poetry—Les Fleurs Du Mal—it was the exact bit of magic the end of such a week required.
From the first sip, it proved delightful. It wasn’t long, though, before I realized the bit of magic this bottle of wine truly contained.
See, Serendipity
It turned out Les Fleurs Du Mal is a Cévennes wine. That is the exact region where Maiden of Gevaudan takes place. I would never have guessed that this mountainous terrain could be transformed into wine country. It also makes me tingle that I might drink a bit of grape that grew in the soil of Southern France. It’s inspiration to go where many of the characters brought to life in the novel walked, hunted, loved.
Imbibing a bit of such a place left the romantic time-traveler in me swooning. My eyes went heavy as I slipped away to the wilderness of Southern France. The winter moon perched above the skyline of pines.
There, I stood admiring Kat stationed in the wide window of the tower study at Chateau d’Apcher. I imagined her anticipating the sweet touch of Count Saltykov while keeping watch over the Gevaudan.
Her wide Russian Tula blade hung heavy in a weapons belt. She called me over. Did I see it too? The chartreuse stare? Did the baying in the night not demand we learn together whether La Bête still hunted? I passed her a glass of Les Fleurs Du Mal. My finger traced the outline of the limestone ridges that drop off into the frozen waters of the Truyère. That night, we would drink. There may not be another chance.
Ah, Friday and the thrill of adoring the serendipity that a writer’s life brings.