Read Your Exclusive Excerpt from The Dressmakers of London

Start the year with a sneak peek at my latest historical novel!

Now that New Year’s Day is behind us, I am thrilled to look ahead at all of the exciting things on the calendar for 2025—including the release of my latest historical novel The Dressmakers of London!

This part epistolary novel set in 1942 tells the story of Izzie and Sylvia, two estranged sisters. Isabelle Shelton has always found comfort in the predictable world of her mother’s dressmaking shop, Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions, while her sister Sylvia turned her back on the family years ago to marry a wealthy doctor whom Izzie detests. When their mother dies unexpectedly, the sisters are stunned to find they’ve jointly inherited the family business. Izzie is determined to buy Sylvia out, but when she’s conscripted into the WAAF, she’s forced to seek Sylvia’s help to keep the shop open. Realizing this could be her one chance at reconciliation with her sister, Sylvia is determined to save Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions from closure—and financial ruin.

I am so proud of this book, and I really cannot wait for it to his bookstore shelves! In fact, I’m so excited that I thought I’d share an extended excerpt from The Dressmakers of London to celebrate!

If you enjoy reading it, I hope you’ll consider preordering your copy ahead of the book’s February 18th release date! (And just a heads up, a small number of special editions with bookplates are available from a select number of independent bookstores!)

Now, without further ado, here is your excerpt from The Dressmakers of London.

“Hello,” said Sylvia.

“You’re early,” said Izzie, unable to keep the accusation from her tone.

Sylvia sighed. “How could you possibly disapprove of me being early?”

Izzie lifted her chin. “You were nearly late to Mum’s funeral, but you’re early to her will reading?”

Sylvia rose to her feet, both hands braced on the handle of her handbag. “What are you implying?”

Izzie knew she wasn’t really being fair, but she couldn’t help herself. There were too many years of anger and frustration built up inside of her, and while she could keep it from erupting when

she didn’t have to see her sister, with Sylvia standing in front of her now—

Willie’s office door opened, and he stepped into the entryway to greet them. “Good morning, Mrs. Pearsall, Miss Shelton.”

Hearing her oldest friend call her “Miss Shelton” immediately sobered her. She squeezed her eyes shut, recalling all to clearly why they were at Willie’s office. Mum was dead, and they were there to hear the reading of her will.

“Miss Shelton?” asked Willie.

She opened her eyes and found Willie and her sister staring at her.

“Are you all right?” asked Sylvia.

“Perfectly,” she said. And in a way she was, because no matter Sylvia’s diamonds and furs or her Marylebone telephone exchange,Izzie had something more valuable: years of memories with Mum.

“If you would both like to join me,” said Willie, gesturing to the room that served as his office. It obviously had once been the front sitting room of a house, and it still had a plain but solid fireplace surround framing the coal fire that had just begun to glow with heat.

“I apologize that there was no one to greet you both this morning. Miss Hubert, my secretary, decided to join the Women’s Royal Navy Service and received her orders two weeks ago and I haven’t been able to find a suitable replacement. Not that anyone ever could replace Miss Hubert,” he said. “She is the soul of discretion and has a mind like a steel trap.”

“Did she wait long for her call-up? I know that the WRNS is one of the more desirable auxiliary services,” said Sylvia, in a way Izzie was certain was meant to show of her superior knowledge of the women’s auxiliary services, even though everyone knew that posh girls went into the WRNS, in part because their uniforms were designed by Edward Molyneux and were far more attractive than the other women’s auxiliaries’ uniforms.

“Not at all,” Willie said. “There are rumors going around that there aren’t nearly enough female recruits to free up the men needed for the front.”

“Well, every little bit helps,” said Sylvia.

Before she could think better of it, Izzie gave a faint snort. When she looked up, she found Willie and Sylvia both staring at her.

“Excuse me,” she said.

“No, I’d actually be curious to hear how you can possibly find fault with such a simple statement,” said Sylvia.

“Perhaps we should move on to—”

“‘Every little bit helps?’” she cut across Willie. “What are you doing for the war effort from your mansion flat in Marylebone, then?”

Sylvia held her gaze for a long moment before turning back to Willie. “Perhaps we should move on.”

He cleared his throat and began to shuffle the papers on his desk. When he was ready, he said, “As I mentioned on Friday, your mother was very clear in some of the instructions she left me, although I regret to say that she offered little insight into why she expressed her wishes in the way she did. That remains a mystery.”

“What do you mean ‘a mystery’?” asked Izzie.

She thought she saw a flash of sympathy in his eyes, but he looked down again before she could be certain.

“Why don’t I begin to read the will and things will become clearer?” he asked. The paper crinkled in his hands as he lifted the edge of the page. “I hereby declare that this is the last will and testament of Margaret Mary Shelton . . .”

A long string of anachronistic legal sentences followed attesting to the fact that Mum had been of sound mind when she made the will. Then Mum named Willie as her executor.

Izzie let the words wash over her, worry creeping in. She wished that Mum had trusted her with more of the business side of things at Mrs. Shelton’s. She didn’t know the first thing about the accounts or where to find anything in Mum’s messy office.

No. She might not know the ins and outs of the business when it came to money, but she knew the order and appointment books, and that was a start. She could learn how the suppliers were paid and how to do the accounting and—

“I leave my estate, including my business, Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions; the building at number four Glengall Road; the flat; and the building’s contents to my daughters, Mrs. Hugo Pearsall and Miss Isabelle Shelton.”

“What?” Izzie blurted out.

Sylvia leaned forward, grasping the arms of her chair. “That cannot be right.”

“You’ve read that wrong, Willie. Read it again,” Izzie demanded.

“I have only read what your mother wrote here. Her last wishes,” said Willie, his tone sharper than they usually were.

This could not be happening. Mum wouldn’t have done this to her.

“There must be a misunderstanding,” said Sylvia. “Our mother wouldn’t have left the shop to me. Surely it must be Izzie’s.”

“There is more, if you will permit me,” said Willie, clearing his throat.

“Please do go on, William,” said Sylvia, like she was the lady of the manor.

“Mrs. Shelton continues, ‘I hope that, as it has for me, the shop will take care of them when they need it most.’” Willie looked up.

“That is all.”

“What could Sylvia possibly need the shop for?” Izzie demanded.

Willie looked up at her, the sympathy so clear in his eyes that it made her miserable all over again. “I’m very sorry, Miss Shelton.”

“But it’s not fair.” She’d been the one to work for years at Mrs. Shelton’s, not Sylvia. She’d steeled herself to harangue delivery drivers and cope with Miss Reid’s moods. She’d sewn until her eyes had felt like sand to make sure orders were delivered on time. She’d swept and cleaned and done everything to keep the doors open every day. And what had Sylvia done except hitch herself to Horrible Hugo’s tailored coattails as soon as she’d seen a chance to escape.

“That’s an old will,” she said. “It must be. Mum would have changed it after Sylvia left home.”

“It’s the most recent will,” Willie said.

“But that can’t be right. Maybe Mum left Sylvia an interest in the building because of the flat, but she never would have left her the business,” she insisted.

It was supposed to be hers and hers alone.

Don’t forget, The Dressmakers of London is available from your favorite book retailer to preorder in print, ebook, or audiobook. There are also a limited number of editions with signed bookplates available from select independent booksellers!