As a writer, I find inspiration anywhere and everywhere, the glint of light on the water in the pond, the fragrance of the woods…  Sometimes the most unlikely places evoke new story or blog ideas.

The concept for my ‘Somewhere’ series took form in the mist of subconscious thought about five years ago while watching one of my favorite British mysteries, Midsomer Murders.  I enjoy the historic setting of these modern-day mysteries, but especially when the story flashes back to an earlier time in an old manor house or church to get to the root of the mystery.  And I wondered how it would be if I  incorporated that element with my love of romance and history–the idea of my ‘Somewhere series’ being that the story begins in one place, so far an old Virginia home, then transports the reader ‘somewhere else,’ either back in time in the same house or another place entirely like the Scottish Highlands. I’m now at work on the fourth story in this series.

The woman’s voice (Galadriel‘s) at the beginning of the Fellowship of the Ring, when the film is dark and you hear only her, evoked the idea of voices in the wind and their faint murmurings being detected by a perceptive young woman.  My living in a ‘wind tunnel,’ as we refer to this stretch of the valley, also contributed to this notion of wind voices.  And that’s partly how light paranormal/historical romance Daughter of the Wind was born.  Throw in a significant dream,  the concept of bearwalking I leaned about from the Shawnee, and killer research that led me to one of the most poignant accounts I’ve ever come across, and the story was off.

Dreams play a very significant role in many of my stories, both in the initial concept and the characters I’ve met along the way. 

Entire scenes have played out in the dream world before ultimately coming to life in the pages of my books.

I also have ‘waking dreams’ when flashes of insight reveal facets of a character I hadn’t yet discovered and I glean more about who they are, where they’ve been, and where they want to go.  Or don’t want to go.  These ‘thinking’ times are essential as my stories are highly character driven.  If I don’t know a character well, I can’t convey them in word images to share with you.  I also ‘collect’ people, both real and imaginary, who turn up in my stories.  And names.  I love names.

Regarding people who inspire me, apart from the actual figures themselves, the ancestral portraits in my family and on display in other Virginia homes have had an enormous impact on me.  The portrait of a striking dark-haired gentleman embedded himself in my thoughts and made me wonder who he was, and why he died so young.  And that other painting of the fair young lady…did she love him?

Light paranormal murder mystery/ghost story romance Somewhere My Love came about as a result of that portrait, plus the inspiration mentioned above from Midsomer Murders, and the wealth of inspiration I gain from these magnificent old homes–such as the grand house featured in Revolutionary War romance Enemy of the King. (*Portrait of my great-great grandmother in the old family home place)

The time period in my historicals is also a vital component.  If I don’t know what a character had for breakfast, who prepared and served the food, or if they did it themselves,  then I can’t get on with their day.  The hefty amount of research I do to gain an in-depth knowledge of how people lived and what events affected their lives in any given era, rewards me with fodder for stories,  both the one I’m at work on and future books.
Places are vital.  I’m inspired just by gazing out my window at the fields, wooded hills, and distant ridges of the Alleghenies in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley where I am fortunate to live, and where my ancestors settled several hundred years ago when the valley was part of the colonial frontier.

The rich history of Virginia, the Native Americans, and the people who journeyed here from far beyond her borders are at the heart of my inspiration.  The events that occurred to my English/Scots-Irish ancestors and their peers had much to do with the creation of Native American historical romance Red Bird’s Song.  Likewise in writing NA historical romance Through the Fire.

Strangely, a single piece of correspondence I came across in my copious research of the French and Indian War also fed the flames of imagination behind that novel.  The letter was from Virginia Governor Dinwiddie (a prodigious letter writer) to George Washington or Andrew Lewis, both militia commanders in the Virginia frontier, asking what happened to the reinforcements sent out from Fort Loudon in Winchester to an interior fort.

My conclusion as to the men’s fate prompted the opening scene in Through the Fire, along with another of my vivid dreams in which I met several of the key characters.  Some readers assume I based the opening of that novel on The Last of the Mohicans movie, but I didn’t, even though the story has a strong The Last of the Mohican’s flavor, as does Red Bird’s Song.
In addition to early and vintage American settings, I also write historical and time travel romances set in the British Isles because I’m a British junkie–all connected to my fascination with the past, my ongoing source of inspiration.  History is a treasure trove.

Author Wilkie Collins in his novel, The Woman in White, was inspired by an incident that happened to him one night when he encountered a troubled young woman dressed all in white.  So profound was the impact her sudden appearance, frightened demeanor, and abrupt departure made on him that he had to write ‘her’ story.   Which brings me back to my new Christmas release, Somewhere the Bells Ring,  in which I referenced  The Woman in White.
 
Somewhere the Bells Ring grew out of my nostalgia for the late 1960′s, and an earlier era, WWI, a dream that wouldn’t leave me alone, and the impact the old family home place has had on me over the years.
And did I mention the ghost?

Excerpt with the reference to The Woman in White:
“Bailey.” He spoke softly, so as not to startle her.

She turned toward him. In her long, white nightgown, hair tumbled down around her, wearing that lost look, she bore an unnerving resemblance to the mysterious woman in Wilkie Collins’ classic mystery, The Woman in White. Eric fervently hoped the similarity ended there. As he recalled from the novel, that unfortunate lady had been unhinged.

Leaving the door ajar, he stepped inside. “We missed you at breakfast.”

She answered distractedly. “I wasn’t hungry.”

He limped to where she stood, the hitch in his leg a little less pronounced today. Maybe he was getting stronger. “Why are you here, looking for ghosts?”

“Or a door to the past.”

He tried to coax a smile to her trembling lips. “Did you check inside the wardrobe?”

“Eric, I’m being serious.”

“That’s what worries me.” Leaning on his cane with one arm, he closed his other around her shoulders and drew her against him. Such a natural act, and she accepted his embrace without pulling back.
She smelled of flowers from her perfume and wood smoke.

“Mercy, child,” he said in his best imitation of Ella, “it’s as cold as a tomb in here.”

“It wasn’t last night.”~