Virginia is a treasure trove for writers.  We have mountains and seashore, rolling hills and bustling cities.  After my move back to Virginia after many years away, I was faced with a difficult decision.  Exactly where would I begin?

Horse country not far from my new home was a logical choice.  I simply couldn’t stay away.  I loved the ambience, the terrain, the fields of thoroughbreds frolicking in the sunshine.  Lunch at the historic Red Fox Inn along with a leisurely drive along narrow lanes dotted with jumps for the local hunt club was a favorite day trip.

Exactly what did I know about fox hunting when I conceived this story?  Frankly, next to nothing.  What did I need to know?  Frankly, everything!  And so began a complicated research experience rivaling any I’d had before.

My first and most important finding was that fox hunting in the United States is really more a chase, than a hunt.  Unlike other countries, the purpose here is not to kill the fox but to watch the hounds work.  If a fox goes to ground–disappears into a den or hiding place–he’s left there.  Hounds are called off if a fox is treed.  In fact fox hunters protect habitat, even pay farmers for the damage foxes do, to encourage their numbers.  This is not to say that foxes don’t occasionally die, but in a world where they would normally be trapped or poisoned or their habitat destroyed by suburbia, their lot may actually be better because of the sport.

As an animal lover, this was important to me.  More important I found a real appreciation for and respect for horses, hounds and foxes in the fox hunting community.  I was delighted to be able to share that new and fascinating world with my readers.