The first few paragraphs of The Lavender Witch
Devon, a beautiful green county of gentle rolling hills and woodlands. Steeped in history and home to the Anglo Saxon tribe the Dumnonii from which the county reputedly gained its name. Dumnonii meaning 'deep valley dwellers'; an apt name for this beautiful countryside, hiding scores of small villages and hamlets deep in the fertile valleys of the Blackdown Hills. Reached by a maze of winding single tracks lanes enclosed on either side by high banks and hedges which in high summer grow together and meet overhead forming long green tunnels. Within just a few miles of the bustling towns and streets you enter a different world where the past is so close that it could be just around the next bend of the road.
The small village of Medbury, worthy of mention in the Domesday book is bounded by the river Yarty to the west and the county border of Dorset to the east, its single street winding its way way along the valley and rising gently to the slopes of Castle Hill. The street peters out at the rambling buildings of Castle Farm, originally the last residence on that road but with the overgrown orchard to the side of the barn recently having been sold, a new dwelling had risen inside the old stone walls of the orchard. The builders rubble had gone, lush green turf had been laid and a new gravel drive led up to the front door. Orchard Cottage was finished, and deep in the soil something stirred.