File:St Mary's Church, Oare, Somerset (3040700445).jpg

This little church has strong associations with Richard Doddridge Blackmore's "Lorna Doone". Near the end of the book – which is narrated by John Ridd – Lorna and John are in church and are about to be wed:

"Lorna's dress was of pure white, clouded with faint lavender (for the sake of the old Earl Brandir), and as simple as need be, except for perfect loveliness. I was afraid to look at her, as I said before, except when each of us said, 'I will;' and then each dwelled upon the other. "It is impossible for any, who have not loved as I have, to conceive my joy and pride, when after ring and all was done, and the parson had blessed us, Lorna turned to look at me, with her playful glance subdued, and deepened by this solemn act. "Her eyes, which none on earth may ever equal, or compare with, told me such a tale of hope, and faith, and heart's devotion, that I was almost amazed, thoroughly as I knew them. Darling eyes, the dearest eyes, the loveliest, the most loving eyes-the sound of a shot rang through the church, and those eyes were dim with death. "Lorna fell across my knees, when I was going to kiss her, as the bridegroom is allowed to do, and encouraged, if he needs it; a flood of blood came out upon the yellow wood of the altar steps; and at my feet lay Loma, trying to tell me some last message out of her faithful eyes. I lifted her up, and petted her, and coaxed her, but it was no good; the only sign of life remaining was a drip of bright red blood. "Some men know what things befall them in the supreme time of their life-far above the time of death-but to me comes back as a hazy dream, without any knowledge in it, what I did, or felt, or thought, with my wife's arms flagging, flagging, around my neck, as I raised her up, and softly put them there. She sighed a long sigh on my breast, for her last farewell to life, and then she grew so cold, and cold, that I asked the time of year. "It was now Whit-Tuesday, and the lilacs all in blossom; and why I thought of the time of year, with the young death in my arms, God, or His angels, may decide, having so strangely given us. Enough that so I did, and looked; and our white lilacs were beautiful. Then I laid my wife in my mother's arms, and begging that no one would make a noise, went forth for my revenge. "Of course, I knew who had done it. There was but one man upon earth who could have done such a thing. . . and I knew that the man was Carver Doone".

The church where the (fictional) murder took place is believed to be St Mary's at Oare and Carver Doone was Lorna's half brother.