Treasure Me

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Release Date: November 12, 2011
Pages: 308
ISBN13: 978-1463765248


Petty thief Birdie Kaminsky has arrived in Liberty, Ohio to steal a treasure hidden since the Civil War. She’s in possession of a charming clue passed down in her family for generations: Liberty safeguards the cherished heart.

The beautiful thief wants to go straight. She secretly admires the clue’s author, freedwoman Justice Postell, who rose above the horrors of slavery to build a new life in Ohio. According to family lore, Justice left South Carolina at the dawn of the Civil War. Heavy with child, she carried untold riches on her journey north. As Birdie searches for the treasure, she begins to believe a questionable part of the story: a tale of love between Justice and Lucas Postell, the French plantation owner who was Birdie’s ancestor.

If the stories are true, Justice bore a child with Lucas. Some of those black relatives might still live in town. Birdie can’t help but wonder if she’s found one—Liberty’s feisty matriarch, Theodora Hendricks, who packs a pistol and heartwarming stories about Justice. Birdie doesn’t know that an investigative reporter who has arrived in town will trip her up—as will her conscience when she begins to wonder if it’s possible to start a new life with stolen riches. Yet with each new clue she unearths, Birdie begins to discover a family history more precious than gems, a tradition of love richer than she could imagine.

Finalist, Next Generation Indie Awards

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Finalist, Next Generation Indie Awards

“This zesty novel is rife with witty dialogue and well-drawn characters.”
—Publishers Weekly, as reviewed for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards

"Treasure Me is sure to delight and entertain. It's light and refreshing; your old fashioned feel-good novel."
—USA Today

“Treasure Me is a riveting read for those who enjoy adventure fiction, highly recommended.”
—Susan Bethany, The Midwest Book Review


“Where are you? Give me back my wallet!”

The man in blue pinstripe stormed through the rooms of Birdie Kaminsky’s apartment like a long distance runner stoked on Red Bull. Flinching at the fury in his voice, she dangled from the window ledge and stared with wide-eyed fear at the pavement three stories below.

The man was seventy years old if he was a day. He probably worked out, which explained how he’d pursued her up three flights of stairs and made it into her apartment before she locked the door.

Old men and their treadmills. It was something she should’ve considered before picking his pocket on the way home from a light day of breaking and entering.

Read the full excerpt