The first in a brand-new romantic adventure series by award winning Scottish writer, D A Nelson.
âWhen top archaeologist Nina Esposito finds a famed treasure huntersâ journal, she knows it will lead her to a long-lost Roman necklace.
But when an ex and a rival archaeologist come on the scene, things donât go quite to plan as the pair battle out for the right to her heart. Added to the mix is the shady character of a local billionaire who will stop at nothing to snatch the jewels from under her nose.
Now she has to navigate through her confused feelings and concentrate on finding the necklace before anyone else does. Failure just isnât an option.â
âA terrific, fast paced action adventure that I couldnât put down,â Janice Mitchell.
âThis romance is full of great characters and is a fantastic story. I canât wait until the next one is out.â Laurina Hewson
âD.A. Nelsonâs writing is cinematic; the details and characters jump from the page and one is instantly immersed. Dusting Down Alcudia is a delicious mystery-cum-thriller.Definitely a book to escape with from the Holiday madness - just remember to have plenty of tapas on hand!â Fippe Finland
The first in a brand-new romantic adventure series by award winning Scottish writer, D A Nelson.
âWhen top archaeologist Nina Esposito finds a famed treasure huntersâ journal, she knows it will lead her to a long-lost Roman necklace.
But when an ex and a rival archaeologist come on the scene, things donât go quite to plan as the pair battle out for the right to her heart. Added to the mix is the shady character of a local billionaire who will stop at nothing to snatch the jewels from under her nose.
Now she has to navigate through her confused feelings and concentrate on finding the necklace before anyone else does. Failure just isnât an option.â
âA terrific, fast paced action adventure that I couldnât put down,â Janice Mitchell.
âThis romance is full of great characters and is a fantastic story. I canât wait until the next one is out.â Laurina Hewson
âD.A. Nelsonâs writing is cinematic; the details and characters jump from the page and one is instantly immersed. Dusting Down Alcudia is a delicious mystery-cum-thriller.Definitely a book to escape with from the Holiday madness - just remember to have plenty of tapas on hand!â Fippe Finland
Prologue
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âTell me about Aeliaâs necklace again!â âOh, you donât want to hear that boring old story again, Nina.â âI do! Tell me papa!â
âAll right,â said Antonio, his dark eyes twinkling brightly. âOnce upon a time, a thousand years ago in the time of the first Roman Emperor Augustus, in the Roman town of Pollentia on the island of Mallorca, where daddy grew up, there lived a girl called Aelia. Aelia lived with her widowed father, Quintus Livius Cato, in a villa in a beautiful part of town. Quintus was the chief lawman and very important. When it came the time for his daughter to marry, he wanted only the very best man as his son-in-law, so he went on a journey to the mainland to find his only daughter a groom. But Aelia had other ideas. While her father was away, a Roman legion camped nearby and in charge of the legion was a handsome General named Marcus Scaevola. When Aelia saw Marcus for the first time, her heart fluttered and she knew that this was the man she was meant to marry. Marcus felt the same about her and began wooing the beautiful noblewoman. After several weeks of courting, Marcus asked Aelia to marry him. She didnât hesitate in saying yes â but there was one problem. Marcus had to ask Aeliaâs father for permission so the couple were forced to wait until he came home.â
Ninaâs father always paused here for effect.
âTell me what happened next!â she squealed.
Antonio smiled and continued: âOn his return three months later, Mettellus was angry with his daughter. Didnât he, as her father, have the right to say who she should and should not marry? And who was this Marcus Scaevola anyway? What were his prospects? However, when he saw how much his daughter loved the dashing General, his heart melted and he gave them his blessing. The couple were very happy and began making plans for a lavish wedding in the spring. Until tragedy struck; the Emperor called Marcus back to Rome. He and his men were to go and fight the Numidians in Africa, they had been causing some trouble. It was called the Jugurthine War. Marcus managed to return to Mallorca to see Aelia before he left. He presented her with a necklace so beautiful that it took her breath away. It was made of pure gold and had the most beautiful amethysts Aelia had ever seen. He had commissioned it for their wedding day but decided to give it to her before he left for the war. He made her promise she would wear it every day until he returned to marry her.â
âWhy did he do that papa?â the little girl asked.
âSo, she would not forget him,â replied her father. âMarcus went off to war and Aelia waited and waited for him to come back. As promised, she wore the necklace every day and she never forgot him. Days, weeks, months went by and still she waited. Then word came that the General had been killed in battle. Grief-stricken, Aelia lay down on her bed, her necklace around her neck, and died right there and then of a broken heart.
âFearful that his daughterâs body would be disturbed by robbers and her necklace taken from her, Livius buried her in a secret grave. Since then, many people have tried to find it. But she had been hidden her well. To this day, no-one knows where Aelia and her necklace lie.â
Chapter 1
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NINA flopped into her aisle seat and clipped her belt around her slim waist. Made it...just! She sat back and caught her breath, her face florid from running. She felt uncomfortably sweaty â âglowingâ as her mother would have put it â and her legs were a little shaky from the mad sprint from the taxi to the check-in desk to the terminal. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. In for threeâŚout for four, just as her yoga teacher had taught her. She felt her body slough off the creeping anxiety of the last manic hour and when she opened her eyes again she was relaxed and ready for the journey ahead.
The plane was packed, but she barely noticed the chatter of her fellow passengers - holidaymakers sparkling in their new clothes and haircuts - choosing instead to drown it out by planning the days ahead. She was excited and scared and elated all at the same time. Her stomach flipped as she thought about what she had to do. It was not going to be easy and she knew she had to get a grip of her emotions if she was to carry out her mission and achieve her goal. She must not lose her head to the romance of it allâŚfailure was just not an option.
The planeâs engines whined into life, ready for take-off. Nina felt a thrill jolt through her body like a shock of electricity. This was itâŚshe was really going to do it.
âLadies and gentlemen, this is your captain speakingâŚâ And to think, Nina had nearly missed the redeye. Her alarm clock had failed to go off and had it not been for the anxious calls of her flat-mate, Gracie, she might still have been in her cosy Chelsea bedroom dreaming of Aeliaâs treasure. Thank God for Gracie! She was a little scatty at times, but she had never let Nina down in all the years she had known her. Nina trusted Gracie with her life. They had met when Nina moved down from Glasgow to London to take up a job at the British Museum. Gracie, fresh out of a doomed relationship with a long-haired heavy metal musician, was looking for a flat-mate; Nina, a flat. They hit it off and soon became firm friends despite Gracieâs penchant for bad-boy boyfriends and cheese and strawberry jam sandwiches. Nina smiled when she thought of her and was grateful Gracie was such an early riser. Without her, Nina knew she would not have been on this flight.
She was feeling a bit more comfortable now or as comfortable as one could feel in the tight confines of âcattle classâ. The cabin crew took up their positions at the front, middle and rear to take disinterested passengers through the safety display. Nina placed her handbag under the chair at her feet as instructed and prepared herself for the flight. She had a lot to do when she landed and wanted to think things through.
âSleep in, Dr Esposito?â a familiar voice drawled in a New York accent.
She turned to see who had spoken and was shocked to be confronted by the handsome face of a smirking Jay Reynolds.
âDr Reynolds, how nice to see you again,â she lied, quickly composing herself. She had not seen him sinceâŚsince... She managed the bare minimum of a smile. âNow what is a man like you doing on a holiday flight to Mallorca? Hardly the type of place youâre normally seen.â
âSame reason as you, I suppose,â he grinned. His soft blue eyes were startling in the sunlit cabin.
She flinched. Did he know? How could he know? A flutter of panic dipped from her chest to the pit of her stomach. She was not sure what was causing the sensation: fear that he knew what she was going to Mallorca for, or the distant memories of a nearly-begun love affair swarming into her head like an invading army of ants. She blushed.
âAnd whatâs that?â she said, voice controlled, lips tight.
âGoing on holiday of course.â
He sat back lazily, legs stretched out as far as they could, arms behind his blond head, studying her.
âMore like a busmanâs holiday,â he admitted. âGoing to see a man about an artifact in Palma.â
âAnything I should know about?â she asked coolly before she mentally punished herself for letting him think she was interested.
âNothing you need to worry your pretty little head over, Nina, honey,â he schmoozed. âItâs too small for you to be interested in. Iâm sure youâve got much bigger fish to fry.â
âAnd whatâs that supposed to mean?â She was beginning to feel the strain of being nice him. She was letting him get to her, she knew it, but she could not help herself. He was soâŚsoâŚinfuriating. She could not stand the man. Putting aside what he had done to her, he was just so insufferably smug. She did not know what she had seen in him all those months ago when she had thought him charming. Charming! Sickening more like.
âJust that Iâm sure youâll be too busy enjoying your holiday, topping up your tan and supping the local vino to be bothered about work,â he answered with a smirk.
A scowl brushed her face. She opened her mouth to retaliate, thought better of it and turned away. He was nothing to herâŚnothing. He did not exist. She did not have to look at him or speak to him if she did not want to. She leant down, fished her novel out of her bag and began to read. She would just ignore him and he would go away. She could hear him chuckling from the other side of the aisle and twisted her body away from him.
The engines of the plane revved to an almost deafening roar.
âOh, looks like weâre for the off,â he said loudly, settling more into his seat.
No shit Sherlock, she thought and fought the urge to say it. Lips pursed she looked at her book. She would not speak to him again. She had too much to think about. He was just an irritant she would have to put up with for the duration of the flight and then she would be rid of him. Even though her eyes were fixed on the words on the page, the ones she had read at least twice, she knew full well he was trying to catch her attention. He did not say anything, but she could feel the heat of his eyes on her neck, willing her to turn around. She tried to ignore him, but he was making her skin prickle. She put down the book and tried to look like she was concentrating on the safety talk. She turned.
âWhat?â she asked briskly.
He laughed.
âHope you have a good holiday,â he said quietly, â...and, if there is anything you want me to get for you, just let me know.â
âI donât think so, somehowâŚâ
He grinned: âBe careful now. Donât do anything I wouldnât do...like losing an artifact!â
Before she could answer him, Jay lay back in his chair and closed his eyes, haughtily signalling the conversation was over. She scowled at him. That man was impossible. He was always impossible. The last time she had seen him was six months ago in Venice when she was on the hunt for a rare Roman perfume bottle to add to the collection at the British Museum. They had been staying at the same hotel, met in the hotel bar and she had been flattered by the attentions of this interesting and handsome man who shared her interest in antiquities. Then she had stupidly allowed herself to relax and she told him she was there on a buying trip. He was too and before they went to their separate rooms they agreed to meet the following afternoon to compare buys. The next morning, thinking no more of it, she contacted the seller, turned up at the agreed meeting place and found that Jay Reynolds had pipped her at the post. He had offered a ludicrous amount over the asking price and snatched the bottle for a private collection. Exasperated, furious with Reynolds and herself, she immediately returned to London empty-handed to explain to her museum bosses how an experienced archaeologist like her could be gazumped by the notorious Dr Jay Reynolds. She glanced over at him then angrily pushed back into her chair. He was ignoring her now. He was... insufferable!
The rest of the flight passed uneventfully. Breakfast was served along with the morning papers, and Nina soon found herself lost in the dayâs news. Reynolds continued to lie against the back of his seat, eyes closed, appearing to sleep, and stayed that way for the entire journey, leaving Nina in peace to think about the days ahead.
She was flying out to Mallorca to try to unravel a mystery that had fascinated her since childhood and thwarted generations of archaeologists before her: the whereabouts of the legendary Aeliaâs Treasure, a necklace of fabulous proportions and incomparable beauty. Reputedly forged by the best goldsmiths in Rome, decorated with the biggest and brightest amethysts, the necklaceâs current resting place was a mystery. Nina pulled a tattered leather-bound notebook from her bag and, keeping it out of Jayâs eye-line, opened it. Written by the eminent archaeologist, Joseph Harper, in the late 1970s, she was positive it held enough clues to would lead her to the necklace. Just like Harper before her, she was sure of its existence even if the rest of the world was not. Harper had been slated over his fruitless search and that was something Nina was going to put right.Â
The handwriting was clear and firm; strong prose written by a strong personality:
3rd September, 1979
Iâve returned to Alcudia once again. Mary was angry that I wanted to âwaste more moneyâ as she put it but as I explained to her, my search would give her and Jack a holiday abroad. She calmed down when I told her I had booked us in to the best hotel in Câan Pastilla. Thereâs a swimming pool and night entertainment. Just what she and the boy need.
I am hoping to drop in on Juan Sebastian Gomez. As chief curator of museums and artifacts for the island authority he may be able to provide a greater insight into the legend of the necklace. He, of all people, must have some thoughts on the matter as to whether it is still buried on the island. And if so, where it might be? I hope this is not just another wasted journeyâŚ
How pertinent that was to her own trip. She had come into possession of Harperâs notebook after his death three months ago, at the age of 81. His widow had gifted his papers, artifacts and personal belongings to the British Museum. There the notebook had lain in a drawer for a couple of weeks before Nina had accidentally stumbled over it during research for another project. Her heart leapt as she recognised its significance. After years of watching Harper on television and reading everything he had ever wrote, here was his own notes in his own hand on the one project he had failed to complete: the search for Aeliaâs necklace. She went to her boss.
George Rayburn sighed when his best archaeologist and researcher bounced into his office, Harperâs notebook in her hand. It was the end of the week, he was tired and the last thing he needed was Nina Esposito in his office with another mission she âjust had to go onâ.
âThis is a sign, George,â Nina gushed, placing the notebook carefully on his desk, âa sign. I was meant to find this notebook. It was hidden under a whole load of journals Joseph Harperâs widow had donated to the museum. How long has this been lying there for? Didnât anyone check for gems like this? If I hadnât been looking through them it might never have to come to light. Well, at least not for many years. I was meant to find it and Iâm meant to find Aeliaâs treasure. Youâve got to let me go to Mallorca to search for it. You have to!â
âI see youâve found it then,â he said quietly.
And that is the worst thing that could have happened, his expression said. Nina had a reputation of being a bit of a Pitbull when she got something between her teeth. She was not one to let go of anything easily.
âI canât believe my luck. Harperâs notebook! That man is a god to me. More than a god! Like Indiana Jones - â
âI was going to talk to you about this - â
âTravelling the world uncovering new civilizations. Oh, Iâve worshipped him since I was a girlâŚâ
âBut I havenât had the chance...â
âI read all of his books. Heâs responsible for me becoming interested in Ancient Rome! You could say heâs responsible for me coming to work here.â
âMiss Esposito! Sit.â
She threw herself into a chair, clasped her hands on her knees and stared at him expectantly, her eyes shining.
George did not seem to know where to start. What he had to tell Nina was explosive. He was straight with her. âFor your information, we did look through the notebooks and that was looked at, but we just donât have the resources to follow through. Not yet.â
He continued: âLook, this is a long shot, but Nina a contact of mine in Madrid has uncovered papers written by an 11th century priest known as Padre Cornelius. They talk about the legend of a Roman noblewoman being buried with a fantastic treasure close to Pollentia. There are only a few lines, but he could be talking about Aelia. As you are aware, everything we do know about her comes from Mallorcan folk tales and stories, so itâs rather a leap of faith.â
âYes, but this might be the first time weâve ever found written evidence that the necklace might actually have existed,â she said, barely able to breathe.
And that would mean Joseph Harperâs theories were right. She knew it!
âWell, we donât know for sureâŚâ George began.
âBut, surely with the help of Joseph Harperâs diary and Padre Cornelius papers, weâve got a good chance of finding it. Youâve got to let me go to Mallorca,â she said, her voice quick with excitement, her hands shaking with nerves. âIâve got to find it. Itâs got to be me.â She stood up. âPlease say youâll send me. Youâve got to let me go, George.â
âHold on a minute,â he said, âIâve got to get the permission of the Board before I can let you go anywhere. You know what theyâre like. They may think itâs all a waste of time and money. Letâs face it, if Joseph Harper failed to find it, what makes you think you will?â
âIf what you say is true, then there's a tomb somewhere in northern Mallorca that's just waiting to be found. And I can find it, George.â She was determined she was going. âI have to do this. I have to do this for Joseph Harper, I have to do this for the museum and most of all I have to do this for myself.â
George looked steadily at her. âIâll try my best to persuade them,â he said.
Three agonising days passed before the Board met to take the decision. It was all Nina could do to stop herself from emailing the members personally to plead with them. As they met in the museumâs huge boardroom to discuss the proposal, she waited outside. She hoped and prayed their decision would go her way. She begged every god (ancient and modern) she could think of to let the Board come out in her favour. Yet when the meeting finally ended, when they finally spilled out of the boardroom, when their eyes would not meet hers, she knew what was coming next. George broke the bad news to her. âWhy wonât they sanction the trip?â she snapped. âAre they mad? Donât they know what this will do for the reputation of the museum? This could be the find of the century.â
âI know, Nina, you donât have to tell me...â he began.
She grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.
âYouâve got to persuade them to let me go.â She was having difficulty controlling her disappointment, stopping the tears that threatened to fall. âIâve got everything else I need. All the documentation is there. Harper's notes, all the clues are there. Iâm sure of this, George. I will find the necklace.â
âNina,â he said, releasing himself from her grip. âI tried everything I could but they were adamant. They said they needed firmer evidence that the necklace every existed before they would pay for you to go and look for it. Iâm sorry. Now, if youâll excuse me, Iâve got another meeting to go to.â
He started to quickly walk away, his feet pit-patting on the tiled floor. She caught up with him.
âHave you any idea how important this is to me?â
He gave her a sympathetic, knowing look, the type her mother gave her when her first boyfriend finished with her at the age of 12. This time, there was no amount of chocolate digestives that were going to put this one right.
âI know your late father used to tell you the story of the necklace when you were little. I know how special finding it would be to you,â George said, âbut my hands are tied.â
âAre they?â she snapped, anger flashing in her eyes. âOr are you just too chicken to stand up for your staff?â
She was standing still now, hands on hips. Defiant.
âNow hold on just a minute!â He turned to face her, his nostrils flared with irritation. The colour rose in his cheeks. âIf the Board says no, itâs no. I canât do anything else.â He strode angrily away, head high in indignation.
âWell, I can,â she whispered to herself.
Â
Back in her office she booked two weeks holiday and a plane ticket to Palma. If the museum would not back her, she would back herself. Armed with Harperâs notebook and with her late fatherâs tale ringing in her head, Nina was confident she would break this mystery once and for all. How could she fail? The story of Aelia and the necklace is real, she said to herself, and Iâm going to prove it.
Dusting Down Alcudia is a romantic suspense told in an omniscient point-of-view. The story might have been stronger in Ninaâs close third-person POV. The prologue was unnecessary, and its information could have been sprinkled through the novel at appropriate times. At 225 pages, the novel was short and could have been longer. More characterization and depth of emotion would have helped readers identify with the protagonist.
According to the bookâs blurb, the protagonist, archeologist Nina Esposito, is employed by the British Museum. When the museum wonât grant her funds to search for an ancient necklace on Mallorca, she goes there alone, carrying the diary of her hero, the now-decreased archeologist Joseph Harper. On the island, she runs into not one, but two prior boyfriends (Roberto Hernandez and Jay Reynolds). There is a good sense of place on Mallorca, less so in London or Amsterdam.
The thriller aspect is a tad light. Nina and Jay have no trouble tracking down the missing necklace with little action or danger involved. Archeologically speaking, she faces few problems in her search for the necklaceâsheâs able to solve in a few days a problem that has evaded searchers for centuries.
The romance aspect is also unbelievable. Nina spends most of her time trying to talk herself out of getting involved with a man who has already dumped her once and another who deceitfully gained the upper hand in the purchase of an archeological find. One wonders why a well-educated woman, supposedly a top person in her field, feels she has to cave to the Neanderthals chasing her. Despite being described in the blurb as âa top archaeologist,â Nina feels inferior to Jay, her rival and the man who cheated her out of a prior find: âHe was the darling of archaeology world; well-known and respected across the globe. And she was an insignificant woman from Scotland (Italics mine).â When Ninaâs cousin Carmel displays her engagement ring, Nina "wondered sadly if it would ever be her turn." She mouths independence, but in reality is TSTL (too stupid to live) as she doesnât think through situations before she acts or utilize appropriate safety precautions, thus putting herself in need of rescuing and those with her in harms way.Â
I had some trouble overcoming problems with some unusual paragraphing, mild formatting problems, missing commas and other grammatical errors, but eventually I turned off my internal editor and read through without stopping.