“We will return soon,” Nicolas says when he catches me glancing at a photo on the desk, one of Rosalind and Edmund with Bronwyn and Amelia.

“And we’ll return to your time, too,” I say, “to visit your family. To let them know you are well.”

“Well and happy,” he says. “Wherever we go, we will always come back to those we love.”

He adjusts a satchel over his arm, and I catch a glimpse of a book in it. When I pluck it out, he grabs it back.

“That’s mine,” I say.

“No, I believe it is Lady Thorne’s. Well, no, first it was August’s and then Rosalind’s, and after they read it, the Thornes did.” He gives a mock frown. “They seem to think they know the authoress.”

I groan. “The Thornes have read it, too?”

“Everyone has. It seems it is quite a popular novel, this tale of a young pirate woman and her adventures with swords of both varieties.” He tucks the book back into his satchel. “I cannot wait to finish reading it. I am told there is another volume in the making.”

He glances at me. “There is another in the making, is there not?”

“That depends on whether the authoress is too busy having her own adventures to write them for others.”

“Oh, I do not think she shall ever be that busy. In fact, I shall make certain she is not.”

He readjusts the strap and takes my hands. Then we turn to the stitch.

“Ready?” he says.

We look at each other and grin. Then we run, hand in hand, and at the last second, we jump, leaping into the stitch, to whatever awaits on the other side.

Thank you for reading!

I hope you enjoyed Miranda and Nico’s adventure. If you’d like to know what happened after A Turn of the Tide, I have two more stories for you.

The first is a holiday novella, coming November 15. Ghosts and Garland features Miranda and Nico solving a holiday mystery in modern-day London. You’ll find the first chapter on the next page.

The second is book four in the series, coming in late 2023.

Watch my website for details on both of these.

Ghosts & Garlands

Sneak Peek

I have always found Christmas to be the most frustrating of holidays, with its overflowing cornucopia of festive delights and impossible choices. Do I arrive at the yuletide ball in a one-horse open sleigh or walk along a moonlit path, snow crunching under my boots? Or do I forgo the ball and join a caroling party with my sister and her family, traveling incognito through the village and passing out baskets brimming with treats? Or do I go dancing and caroling another night and spend this one at home, snuggled in front of the roaring fire with a book and a cup of mulled wine?

This holiday season, I am facing what may be the most impossible choice yet. Do I stand at the hotel window, staring out at the wonders of the twenty-first century . . . or do I stare at the bed where my lover is stretched naked, engrossed in a book? Both are marvels to behold and present an infuriating quandary.