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.
Mary lives in this house along with her family, her Brownie friends and a ghost. When the ghost reveals her secret about the hidden treasure, there’s no stopping Mary, her Brownie friends, or her enemies from searching for this treasure.
Emily-Jane Hills Orford is an award-winning author of several books, including Gerlinda (CFA 2016) which received an Honorable Mention in the 2016 Readers’ Favorite Book Awards, To Be a Duke (CFA 2014) which was named Finalist and Silver Medalist in the 2015 Next Generation Indie Book Awards and received an Honorable Mention in the 2015 Readers’ Favorite Book Awards. 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
Once the house settled down for the night, Mrs. Murray, the resident ghost, was out on her nocturnal prowl. Satisfied that the house was safe and secure for the night, after all the musical vibrations that shook the rafters earlier, she took her place at the end of Mary’s bed and waited patiently for the girl to stir from her sleep and take note of her presence. “What?” Mary groaned, pulling her eyes open as she emerged from a deep sleep. “What now?” “We need to talk.” The wispy figure of what was once a very distinguished looking lady, sat down at the end of Mary’s bed and looked the girl firmly in the eye. “Now?” Mary groaned. “It’s the middle of the night. What time is it?” “What difference does it make? Sit up and let’s talk.” The ghost was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. And, it would appear, feigning sleep would not send her away either. So, Mary pushed herself into a sitting position and rubbed her eyes again, hoping to eradicate the sleep that threatened to make them close. “Where are the others? Where’s Brunny?” she asked. “Asleep in their little space. And it’s not a natural sleep either. They’re all in the deepest of sleeps, all except Elizabeth, who slipped out of the house a few hours ago, just after the lights went out and your family snuggled in for the night.” Mrs. Murray slid a little closer to Mary. “She’s still not right, that Elizabeth. She’s good and well shackled by that witch.”