My fascination with old homes and plantations, a theme that figures regularly in much of my writing, is partly inspired by the family home place, circa 1816, located outside the historic town of Staunton, Virginia in the lovely Shenandoah Valley. *Note I did a previous post on Staunton.
Called (old homes invariably have names) this Georgian style brick house has been in the family for eight generations. Sadly, the old kitchen, a separate building from the main house, no longer stands but I remember it from my childhood. Some outbuildings still remain; among them the smokehouse and stable. The house itself is filled with a wonderful collection of heirlooms. The miniature china dogs I played with as a child turn up in Enemy of the King.
The story I’m writing now, my next ‘Somewhere’ story, is set at Chapel Hill at Christmas, the season I remember best. More on that in future posts.
The home in Somewhere My Love is a compilation of Berkeley and Shirley plantations with flavors of Chapel Hill, and lord only knows what else considering all the old homes I’ve toured or lived in over the years. The curved staircases I favor in my novels are replicas of the one at Chapel Hill that winds from the foyer in front of the old parlor up to the second floor. As a child, I’d anxiously wander up and down those stairs in the moonlight in my white nightgown, no doubt looking like a ghost girl, because I wanted to be with my parents asleep downstairs, but hated to admit it during the day when my cousins were about. So, I’d be tucked in with them upstairs, far from asleep, and worries of the night would settle in. Then I’d wandered the steps until I finally made a bolt for mom and dad, feeling quite foolish in the bright sunshine of morning with birds singing cheerily. However, nighttime in that house was quite another matter.
The ‘snake thing’ in Chapter One of Enemy of the King is drawn from an incident that happened to me at Chapel Hill when I was a girl during my night wanderings. Back in my contest circuit days, more than one judge told me a snake couldn’t possibly get into a house and wind around the antlers of a buck mounted up on the wall. They can and one did; a rather horrifying discovery for a child to make in the wee hours. And then there’s the fact that I always suspected the house was haunted…not sure by whom. But I’m not entirely certain I was alone on those stairs, though whoever kept me company was benign.
To clarify, I do not live at Chapel Hill. My aunt does, but it’s not far from where my husband and I live on the family farm, and I’ve visited Chapel Hill all of my life.
My light paranormal romance Somewhere My Lass opens in an old Victorian home in the historic town of Staunton, (mentioned above). I also love homes of the Victorian era. Our farm house dates back into the 1800’s.
Old homes from the nineteenth or eighteenth centuries (and beyond) have character, charm, mystery, and sometimes…ghosts. Beneath the staircase at Chapel Hill is a deep closet, long rumored to be the site of a secret passage now closed from view. Whether any truth exists to this family legend I do not know and apart from tearing out the back of the recessed closet can’t think how else to make this determination. But I assure you, there will be a secret passage when I set my story there.
The Joshua Wilton house in Harrisonburg VA is a beautifully restored Victorian home operating as an Inn and Restaurant. They also serve tea in the afternoons if visitors wish to come only for that lovely occasion.
For more on the Joshua Wilton house visit: http://joshuawilton.com/
For more on my work please visit: www.bethtrissel.com
Chapel Hill pictured first.