Summary
"Love and betrayal, forgiveness and redemption combine in a heady tale of the ever-present past...fantastic!" --Pam Jenoff, New York Times bestselling author of The Lost Girls of Paris The author of the "engrossing" ( People ) international bestseller The Room on Rue Amélie returns with a moving story set amid the champagne vineyards of northern France during the darkest days of World War II, perfect for fans of Kristin Hannah's The Nightingale . Champagne, 1940: Inès has just married Michel, the owner of storied champagne house Maison Chauveau, when the Germans invade. As the danger mounts, Michel turns his back on his marriage to begin hiding munitions for the Résistance . Inès fears they'll be exposed, but for Céline, half-Jewish wife of Chauveau's chef de cave , the risk is even greater--rumors abound of Jews being shipped east to an unspeakable fate. When Céline recklessly follows her heart in one desperate bid for happiness, and Inès makes a dangerous mistake with a Nazi collaborator, they risk the lives of those they love--and the champagne house that ties them together. New York, 2019: Liv Kent has just lost everything when her eccentric French grandmother shows up unannounced, insisting on a trip to France. But the older woman has an ulterior motive--and a tragic, decades-old story to share. When past and present finally collide, Liv finds herself on a road to salvation that leads right to the caves of the Maison Chauveau.
Library Journal Review
Alternating between the vineyards of war-torn 1940s France and the present, this new release from Harmel (The Room on Rue Amélie) follows Inès and Michel, newlywed owners of the famed champagne house Maison Chauveau, and the head winemaker's Jewish wife, Céline Laurent. As Germans pillage homes and send Jews to prison camps, Céline draws nearer to Michel for protection, pushing Inès into the arms of another and setting off a chain of dangerous betrayal. The wine cellars beneath Chauveau conceal not only champagne from the Germans but also Resistance weapons, Jewish refugees, and forbidden love affairs. In the present, Liv, 41, unemployed and newly divorced, departs for Paris with her 99-year-old grandmother Edith. Liv questions Edith's connection to Chauveau and Reims. Readers learn Edith's painful secrets and will appreciate the importance of family legacy and the passionate venture of champagne making. Unfolding in multiple viewpoints, the writing is atmospheric and rich, showcasing heavily researched topics of wine making and French Resistance efforts. VERDICT Harmel's touching story of love and loss in World War II France will appeal to fans of Pam Jenoff and Kate Quinn.--Laura Jones, Argos Community Schs., IN
Excerpts
Chapter One: May 1940one MAY 1940 INÈS The road snaked over the lush vineyards of Champagne as Inès Chauveau sped southwest out of Reims, clouds of dust ballooning in the wake of her glossy black Citroën, wind whipping ferociously through her chestnut hair. It was May, and already the vines were awakening, their buds like tiny fists reaching for the sun. In weeks they would flower, and by September, their grapes--pale green Chardonnay, inky Pinot Meunier, blueberry-hued Pinot Noir--would be plump and bursting for the harvest. But would Inès still be here? Would any of them? A shiver ran through her as she braked to hug a curve, the engine growling in protest as she turned down the road that led home. Michel would tell her she was driving too quickly, too recklessly. But then, he was cautious about everything. In June, it would be a year since they'd married, and she couldn't remember a day during that time that he hadn't gently chided her about something. I'm simply looking out for you, Inès , he always said. That's what a husband is supposed to do. Lately, nearly all his warnings had been about the Germans, who'd been lurking just on the other side of the impenetrable Maginot Line, the fortified border that protected France from the chaos besetting the rest of Europe. Those of us who were here for the Great War know to take them seriously , he said at least once a day, as if he hadn't been just four years old when the final battle was waged. Of course Inès, younger than Michel by six years, hadn't yet been born when the Germans finally withdrew from the Marne in 1918, after nearly obliterating the central city of Reims. But her father had told enough tales about the war--usually while drunk on brandy and pounding his fist against the table--that she knew to be wary. You can never trust the Huns! She could hear her father's deep, gravelly voice in her ear now, though he'd been dead for years. They might play the role of France's friend, but only fools would believe such a thing. Well, Inès was no fool. And this time, for once, she would bring the news that changed everything. She felt a small surge of triumph, but as she raced into Ville-Dommange, the silent, somber, seven-hundred-year-old Saint-Lié chapel that loomed over the small town seemed to taunt her for her pettiness. This wasn't about who was wrong and who was right. This was about war. Death. The blood of young men already soaking the ground in the forests to the northeast. All the things her husband had predicted. She drove through the gates, braked hard in front of the grand two-story stone château, and leapt out, racing for the door that led down to the vast network of underground cellars. "Michel!" she called as she descended two stone steps at a time, the cool, damp air like a bucket of water to the face. "Michel!" Her voice echoed through the tangled maze of passageways, carved out of the earth three-quarters of a century earlier by her husband's eccentric great-grandfather. Thousands of champagne bottles rested on their sides there, a small fortune of bubbles waiting for their next act. "Inès?" Michel's concerned voice wafted from somewhere deep within the cellars, and then she could hear footsteps coming closer until he rounded the corner ahead of her, followed by Theo Laurent, the Maison Chauveau's chef de cave , the head winemaker. "My dear, what is it?" Michel asked as he rushed to her, putting his hands on her shoulders and studying her face. "Are you quite all right, Inès?" "No." She hadn't realized until then how breathless she was from the news and the drive and the rapid descent into the chill of the cellars. "No, Michel, I'm not all right at all." "What's happened?" Michel asked while Theo regarded her silently, his expression as impassive as always. "It has begun," Inès managed to say. "The invasion, Michel. The Germans are coming!" A heavy silence hung in the damp air. How long would it be before the quiet of the cellars was punctured by the thud of goose-stepping boots overhead? Before everything they'd built was threatened, perhaps destroyed? "Well then," Michel said at last. "I suppose it is time we finish hiding the champagne." Excerpted from The Winemaker's Wife by Kristin Harmel All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.