Mrs Murray's Home

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. 

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?

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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

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The Brownies were coming out of their daze. They glanced around, startled, taking in the situation. They noticed their queen, young and beautiful, the curse broken. A cheer erupted. “The witch is dead,” was the chant that rippled through the throngs of what once was Penelope’s Brownie army.

A chanting began from the rear of the troop and quickly picked up in volume. “Hail Hail, the witch is dead. Cause for celebration. In the Brownie nation. Hail Hail, we’re free at last. Time to celebrate freedom.”

“Sounds very much like, ‘Hail, hail, the gang’s all here. What the heck do we care? What the heck to we care?’” Granny laughed heartily, tapping her foot to the rhythmic chanting. The words were made up to suit the occasion, but everyone was catching on and soon there was dancing in the halls as the celebration escalated.

“I think we’re having a party.” Cousin George clapped his hands and joined in the fun.

Master Harry picked up the frozen remains of the witch and tucked it in his pocket. It was safer than leaving it untended on the floor where it could be trampled or, worse, stolen and restored to its original witchy form. He patted the pocket to assure himself that it was safe and then made his way over to where Mary and Granny still stood beside the staircase. “You’ll have to keep working on your spellcasting,” he spoke in a guarded voice. “I can only keep her like this for so long. Once you’re strong enough, once your power is fully controlled, we, you and I, can take care of Penelope for good.”

“What will you do with her? With it?” she nodded toward his pocket where she watched him place the frozen witch-iness.

“I’ll keep her safe and frozen until you’re ready. Nara will assist.”

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