Flora Flowerdew & the Mystery of the Duke’s Diamonds by Amanda McCabe
Flora Flowerdew & the Mystery of the Duke’s Diamonds is
the first in the Flora Flowerdew Victorian Mysteries series. The book was just published
in August and has 4.4/5 stars on Amazon. It is also free on Kindle Unlimited right
now! If you are a fan of historical mysteries, it is well worth checking out. Look
at the beautiful cover!!! Today I have an extract of the book to give you a
little taste thanks to Rachel’s Random Resources book tours.
London
1888
Flora Flowerdew has a secret. The former Florrie Gubbins, music hall dancer, is
now Madame Flowerdew, one of London’s most renowned spirit mediums. But it’s
actually her beloved Pomeranian dog, Chou-Chou, who can see the ghosts.
One of her most lucrative seances, for the wealthy Petrie family whose daughter
is about to marry a handsome young duke, goes chaotically awry. The duke’s
late, and very irate, grandfather demands Flora and his grandson Benedict find
the long-missing family diamonds—even the search becomes littered with mayhem
and murder! Can Flora discover the jewels before she loses her career, her
sanity—and her heart?
Watch what happens the morning after Flora’s well-planned
séance goes awry!
Flora woke up late
the next morning, feeling rather out of sorts after the strange doings of the
night before and the rich port. She
always had a slight headache following some seances, nothing a strong cup of
tea and a bit of fresh air couldn't fix.
Yet that day felt different. Her whole body ached, as it hadn't since her
time of doing high kicks and spins every night at the Follies, and the single
ray of grayish sunlight peeking through the bedroom curtains set her head
pounding. Flora groaned and rolled over
on her pillows, wishing she'd had a few more hours of sleep. Or maybe days of it.
For an instant, she was startled by a head
floating in her dressing table mirror.
She shot up with a yelp, only to fall back again. It was just her black “madame” wig on its
stand.
“Silly goose,” she said, and tugged the
blankets around her again. Chou-Chou
snuffled in objection at being tossed from her little nest of cushions, but
soon settled down again, falling into snoring doggie sleep.
Flora wished she could do the same. Tired as she had been after the Petries
stormed away, she had stayed up far too long trying to decipher what had
happened. Had a real ghost truly shown
up? Why did he choose her house, out of
all the spirit mediums in London? What
did he want?
She picked at the lace edge of her coverlet
and frowned as she tried to sort out something that seemed to make no sense at
all. She vaguely remembered something
more to do with the Evertons, something scandalous, but what was it? She tried to keep up with all the Society
gossip. Knowing people was her stock in
trade, after all. It seemed as if
whatever had happened was quite some time ago, though, and she realized she
didn't know much at all about the new duke.
Only that he might or might not marry Miss Petrie. If the diamonds were found.
Lost diamonds. It all sounded very intriguing. Like a story in one of the penny dreadfuls
Flora guiltily consumed.
There was a quick knock at the door, and
Mary bustled in efficiently with the morning tray of tea and toast. The gray skirts of her day dress rustled as
she sat the tray down and tugged open the curtains, letting in the full light
of day. Or as much light as there was to
be had in London, anyway.
“Good morning, Miss Flora! How'd you sleep, then?” Mary said, far too
cheerful. She was one of those creatures
Flora loathed the most—a morning person.
But Flora had to admit she had become a spectacular maid. Mary had started life on the East End
streets, and like Flora herself had to reinvent herself, beginning as a dresser
at the Follies. Their start in
Kensington had been a bit rocky, but Flora thought they were making do quite
nicely now.
“Not very well,” Flora grumped. She buttered her toast as she watched Mary
pick up the “madame” gown where it was left draped over the chaise last
night. Mary studied the dark purple
satin, and tsked at a couple of loose jet beads. Madame dresses did not come cheap. “What do you make of what happened last
night?”
“Spooky,” Mary said with a shudder. “Whoever that was, he wasn't fooling around.”
About the Author:
Amanda McCabe wrote her first romance at the age of
sixteen--a vast historical epic starring all her friends as the characters,
written secretly during algebra class (and her parents wondered why math was
not her strongest subject...)
She's never since used algebra, but her books (set in a
variety of time periods--Regency, Victorian, Tudor, Renaissance, and 1920s)
have been nominated for many awards, including the RITA Award, the Romantic
Times BOOKReviews Reviewers' Choice Award, the Booksellers Best, the National
Readers Choice Award, and the Holt Medallion. She lives in New Mexico with her
lovely husband, along with far too many books and a spoiled rescue dog.
When not writing or reading, she loves yoga, collecting
cheesy travel souvenirs, and watching the Food Network--even though she doesn't
cook. She also writes as Amanda Allen...
Keep in touch on social media:
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Website:
http://ammandamccabe.com
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