I was in France this last week for the release of Sépulcre - that's the French edition of Sepulchre. Interestingly, I thought the book was going to be called Sépulture in France, because that's the name of the Baudelaire poem from which part of my inspiration came. However, my publisher decided that Sépulcre sounds 'plus noble' - and who am I to disagree?

Anyway, one of the events in Toulouse coincided with the build up to the final match in the French rugby union season, in which Stade Toulousain were going for the title. Of course, we brought one another luck - the red and black of Toulouse were victorious and we had a great time too.

I say 'we' because my husband Greg came with me on the French trip. After all, when we visit southwest France we are, in a way, going home. It would be strange not to be there together. In fact, Greg was at Montségur recently filming a TV documentary and it was an odd feeling for us both.

Now I think of it, that was also the weekend when the Toulouse rugby union side won the European Cup. Could this be the start of another mystery ... ?