There is a hidden treasure in the grand old mansion on Piccadilly Street, in a place called London, but not the real London of English fame. There’s also a lot of mystery and a murder that’s been unsolved for decades. But it’s the treasure that captures Mary’s interest.
Why the intrigue? Apparently there’s a little bit of magic connected to this treasure. And so the adventure begins. Who will find the treasure first?
She writes about the extra-ordinary in life and her books, short stories, and articles are receiving considerable attention. For more information on the author, check out her website at: http://emilyjanebooks.ca
Top Ten List
10 Favorite Things:
- My family – my husband and two adult children are my life and my stories weave around family times past, present, and future.
- My dog, Duke – my muse; he helps me plot out a story and listens intently when I need an attentive ear.
- Chocolate – must have some every day, or life wouldn’t be the same.
- Books – can’t go a day without reading, especially the real books, the smell and feel of paper adding to the aura of the act of reading.
- My garden – Sadly, I can only enjoy this in the spring, summer and fall; but I spend most of the winter planning the next gardening season.
- Needlework/art – I love to cross-stitch and create collage fabric art.
- Music – I’m a retired music teacher, so I love to play the piano (for myself only) and I enjoy composing for the piano.
- Writing – Of course, I love to write. Perhaps this should be at the top of the list. I can’t go a day without writing. That’s my storytelling heritage.
- Mail – Now, this may seem strange, but I love to receive mail. Not email. Not texts. Not those short blurbs on social media that really say nothing. I have a few writer friends with whom I exchange regular letters. Written in cursive writing. Sent via snail mail. There’s nothing so rewarding as walking to the mailbox and returning with something more interesting to read than a bill.
- Time – Now this is a really illusive thing, but a quantity of which we are all in short supply. I never seem to have enough time to do everything I want to do. More time. Less time. It doesn’t matter. It still passes at the same speed. And then another day is over and another day about to begin.
Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2020 Margaret Margaret