A blazing eventide emerges beyond the city of Bacharach. You drift down the meandering river Rhine, gliding between beryl hills, following an elusive, beguiling melody. Sunset fades from a brilliant vermilion to a halo of rose-pink corals, and shimmering golds, transforming into a vision, lovely to behold. The siren song of the Loreley floats into mind as you find yourself entranced beside a titian-haired maiden, sipping the most delicious nectar of the gods. Aromas both familiar and exotic: peaches, nectarines, lychee, blood orange, tea roses, and lilac seduce you, transfix you, sing to you. Rose-gold locks adorned with pearls of the softest iridescent blush cascade down Loreley's shoulders and swirl around you as gossamer wisps of finery drift in the breeze. Her hands cradle a seashell, and nestled inside awaits a succulent oyster with passionfruit mimosa mignonette. This Siren could lure even the celestial body of the night from its place in the heavens. An overwhelming feeling of euphoria envelops you, and even though you are drowning in the deep cerulean of her eyes, you know you will always be with your Loreley.
notes by miranda thompson, vp of quality control