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Exactly how much did a bottle of anything cost in the eighteen hundreds? How was anything kept cold? Did ice cream even exist? Whose job was it to light the street lamps? Did young women always wear hats when outside? If washrooms didn’t yet exist, what did the facilities of the time look like? Where did young women wash their long hair? What colors were popular in clothes, furnishings and décor like wallpaper? Was wallpaper popular back then?
I’m sure you get my drift … so many things to find out. And the thing is, everything I learned helped me to immerse myself into the lives of my characters. Subconsciously becoming a part of their world allowed each character to show me their unique personality.
There is a scene in Victorian Town that takes place during a ball – a pivotal scene in my novel. I waited until nightfall to write this scene, which was the exact time it took place in my book. I listened to a haunting waltz as I typed. And when my husband walked into the room and saw tears streaming down my face, he thought my mental health had taken a downturn. But I was simply living within the lives of my characters at that moment, and felt the emotion as if I was right there with them.
Readers who like to read novels with elements of time travel do so for the whole effect. The uniqueness and diversity of times past are things we can’t ever truly experience. It’s up to writers to reclaim bygone worlds in ways that make readers want to turn each page and live in the moment themselves … and maybe shed a tear or two.
Victorian Town
Nancy Thorne
Genre: Paranormal Romance
with time travel and mystery elements
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing
Date of Publication: March 28th, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-68291-639-1
ASIN: B07B65543D
Number of pages: 196
Word Count: 56,000
Cover Artist: Rae Monet
Tagline: Abby Parker has a modern life. Too bad someone in the 19th century needs it.
Book Description:
Abby Parker planned out her whole life: complete her final year of high school, go to college, get a job, move away from her insane family, stay best friends with Jessica.
But, that was before she broke into the nearby tourist attraction and unwittingly answered a call from a centuries-old spirit who dragged her into the 19th century.
Now she must solve a Victorian mystery without getting herself killed, or worse, spend a lifetime trapped in the past, leaving behind everyone she loves and altering their lives forever.
When she meets gorgeous Benjamin, the future looks a lot like wreckage.
Excerpt
I waited for him
to make the next move, to tell me how inappropriate, how forward that was of
me. As I struggled to think of how best to offer an explanation, he turned to
me. Gently but deliberately, he moved his hand up my arm, stopping at the nape
of my neck beneath the ribbon of the bonnet.
The moment he
leaned in, I closed my eyes. His lips, soft and full, touched mine with the
modest pressure of an indecisive act. A warm energy coursed through my body,
but the strangest thing was that everything felt unbelievably familiar, like it
had all been rehearsed before that moment. I held onto this profound feeling,
not wanting it to leave, until Ben removed his lips from mine.
Even with the whistled
melodies from a pair of cardinals outside the church's entrance, the following
silence felt awkward. It persisted, and I assumed Ben was already regretting
kissing me.
"Miss
Abigail−"
I brought up a
hand and covered his mouth. "It's okay."
We walked down
the hill without saying another word. A lot of activity was happening on Main
Street: coaches lined the front of the Royal Hotel as travelers zipped in and
out of the main entrance; horse carts delivered goods in dashes of haste; store
merchants hurried beyond their open doors; street sellers sold goods out of
baskets; helpers swept the boardwalk; ladies could be seen purchasing last
minute necessities behind the windows of each shop.
Ben accompanied
me up the stairs of Town Hall's entrance and stopped on the landing before we
reached the front door. I peered through the window. Martha arranged
long-stemmed flowers in a vase on a table at the side of the ballroom. A young
man placed a candelabra on a table and then another on top of a piano. Ben had
already started back to the street when I turned. He waved. I waved back. Still
a chance he'll change his mind.
The gloves were
easier to remove now that one was missing its button. I placed them, and the
button, on the ledge of the window and took off the ring.
Jess was still
sitting on my bed when the haze cleared, but her tapping fingers had moved from
her chin, which now rested on her knuckles. It was obvious it had taken longer
for me to return this time. It made sense to me right then that the ring held
within it a finite amount of energy with which to transport me to the past and
back home, like a battery depleting its energy with each use. And, I had no
idea how to recharge it.
About the Author:
Nancy Thorne is an award-winning author of fiction inspired by the romance and courage of youth.
Born and raised in a suburb of Toronto, she fostered a passion for creating stories in grade school but hid it much too well. Five years ago she decided to pursue her lifelong dream of telling them.
When she's not writing books or reading, you can find her going on road trips or cooking untested recipes for brave family members and friends.
Nancy lives outside of Toronto with her husband, two sons, and an energetic fox-red Labrador.
She loves to hear from her readers, even just to say hi. Find her online at www.nancythorne.com
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