My love of New England started as far back as I can remember. My mom was from a small borough west of Boston, and we would travel to see my grandparents and cousins every few years. I never lived there, but it’s still a magical place for me. I had the chance to visit recently, and it was everything I remember, which is odd after a thirty year hiatus.
The church you see here is the the church my parent’s were married in, back in the 1950’s. It’s pretty much the same today as it was back them. In fact, the whole town seemed very much the same after so many years. Not many places are like that, but the small towns scattered across New England are much the same. Narrow roads, more trees than I see in a year out west, and warm, inviting people, even if they do have an accent.
I set the location for the Hanover Girls series in New England, simply because of the charm, but in the oddly specific town of New Haven, Connecticut. I’ve never been there, I must confess, but I’ve been to many other New England towns, and I extrapolated the experiences. If I have inaccuracies, I apologize now. But with your indulgence, in this piece of fiction, pretend it’s the magical place I believe it is.