Re-creating history is fun. Manipulating history for entertainment purposes kicks A$$. I integrate detailed research into Viper’s stories you have a seamless experience. I don’t want you to easily figure out what comes from my imagination and what is factual.

Apparently, the universe agrees with me.

Image by Dave Skinner, CC BY-SA 2.0, Link

 

When I designed the principal immortal characters of The Queen’s Viper, I came up with the Sisters. The conjoined twins (a term formerly known as Siamese twins) hold vital information related to Viper’s forgotten past. I have family who lived in Maidstone, so I based the Sisters at “the Maiden Stones.” I could write about a place with a wealth of history that I could easily research in person (or via family). Having done that, I chased the research squirrel.

To my utter delight, I stumbled upon the Chulkhurst Twins of the 12th Century after I started writing about my twins.

Mary and Eliza Chulkhurst were conjoined twins from the Kentish town of Biddenden who lived an extraordinary life, not least of which by how well they thrived. They lived to the ripe old age of 34. Their charity gave rise to the legendary distribution of Biddenden charity cakes on Easter Monday.

No, they weren’t the Cupcake Gals of their day (omg so yum!). They were the daughters of a wealthy family who believed in charity. Before their dual-death by natural causes in 1134, the Chulkhurst twins left a large parcel of land to their local parish with the provision that the church was to provide an annual contribution of cheese, bread, and beer to the deserving poor. Why beer? Water wasn’t considered clean enough to drink. This came to be known as the Bread and Cheese Lands, and the event became the Maid’s Charity.

How kind of history to provide me with the bones my immortal twins’ backstory! The universe wanted wants me to incorporate these fascinating individuals into my fantasy.

Not much is truly known about the Chulkhurst twins. No written history of them exists before 1770. The names Mary and Eliza may be random, and don’t show up until the 19th Century. Were they real? Were the sisters conjoined, or did they just like to stand with their arms about each other’s waists?

Then I discovered another treasure in a local poem that described “the Oriel stone” and “mysterious maidens side by side.” That poem and “the Oriel Stone” wound up in The Wrath of Atticus.

More Easter egg goodness!

There’s still an annual Biddenden Maids’ Charity and tourists can purchase little cakes with the sisters stamped on them. I’ve driven past the sign, in heavy rain. The quality of my picture sucked. I’m hoping to get a decent one when we go “over the pond” for a family wedding.

In Viper’s sequel, The Wrath of Atticus, I chose the name “Atticus” from a real piece of history: the Hilliard Minature. Atticus isn’t a well-known name, and no one knows who the Hilliard Miniature represents. What struck me wasn’t just the name, but that the word “Atticus” is also a part of the ear’s structure. Did you notice Viper’s reaction to sonic weapon in The Queen’s Viper? Hint, hint.

That was a geek-fun connection for me to make as Viper’s creator. Atticus became the name of the cult leader who hunts Viper and her kind. This character’s influence stretched all the way back to Roman Britain.

Going through my polishes of historical data before print, the universe gave me a “you go gurl” that made my day.

I had crafted the London Mithraeum into London’s story. The Roman temple to the cult of Mithras was found in 1952. In recent years, the MOLA and Bloomberg have done extensive archival digging and restoration work on the area. They found 405 wax tablets on the site around the Mithraeum, one of which I used to in my narrative.

I *just* found out that one of the REAL historical names of a Londinium Roman written on a tablet was Atticus.

Thanks for the pat on the back Universe!!