Spotlight & Giveaway: A Rare Find by Joanna Lowell

Today, HJ is pleased to share with you Joanna Lowell’s new release: A Rare Find

When an aspiring archaeologist teams up with her childhood enemy for a treasure hunt, they find it impossible to bury their growing feelings, in a charming queer historical romance from the author of A Shore Thing.

Elfreda Marsden has finally made a major discovery—an ancient amulet proving the Viking army camped on her family’s estate. Too bad her nemesis is back from London, freshly exiled after a scandal and ready to wreak havoc on her life. Georgie Redmayne is everything Elfreda isn’t–charming, popular, carefree, distractingly attractive, and bored to death by the countryside. When the two collide (literally), the amulet is lost, and with it, Elfreda’s big chance to lead a proper excavation. Now Elfreda needs new evidence of medieval activity, and Georgie needs money to escape the doldrums of Derbyshire. Joining forces to locate a hidden hoard of Viking gold is the best chance for them both.

Marsdens and Redmaynes don’t get along, and that’s the least of the reasons these enemies can’t dream of something more. But as the quest takes them on unexpected adventures, sparks of attraction ignite a feeling increasingly difficult to identify as hatred. It’s far too risky to explore. And far too tempting to resist. Elfreda and Georgie soon find that the real treasure comes with a steep price… and the promise of a happiness beyond all measure.

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from A Rare Find 

“Georgina,” she croaked. “Damn you.”
She’d imagined uttering those words on innumerable occasions.
Saying them now brought no comfort.
Georgina Redmayne gave her a dazzling smile. “I’ve certainly been trying.”
Elfreda stifled a scream. She punched the pond instead, dredging up another handful of mud.
“Oh,” murmured the young lady, looking between them. “You are acquainted. Georgie, you tried to drown someone you know?”
“I thought she was Rosalie.” Georgina waved a hand. “Something about the hair. From behind.”
“You tried to drown Rosalie.” The young lady sounded outraged. “Your dearest friend. You are a monster.”
“Dunk, not drown.” Georgina sat and tugged off a boot. “She knocked me out of the boat the other day. You weren’t decrying attempted murder then.”
The young lady ignored this.
“Lucky for Rosalie she escaped,” she said. “Most unlucky for poor….” She trailed off as she picked her way along the bank, her ribboned slippers disappearing in the rushes at the verge. “Should I call you Elf?” she asked Elfreda, bending down, as one did when addressing a child. “I gather you and Georgie grew up together? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in town.”
“She doesn’t go to town.” Georgina tugged the second boot, more sharply. “She molders in Marsden Hall. The pile on the hill.”
“The pile on the hill!” The young lady beamed. “I adore it. So picturesque. I’m delighted to meet you, although I understand if you don’t return the sentiment at present. I hope we can renew our acquaintance when we both have dry feet.”
Elfreda didn’t offer her response.
I would rather dry my feet in the fires of hell.
She let the mud in her hands plop into the water.
“I’m Anne,” continued the young lady, undeterred. “Anne Poskitt, of the Halifax Poskitts. Did you lose a ring? A fish might have swallowed it. Fish are always swallowing rings, in fairy tales anyway, which usually have some truth to them. Did you know Bluebeard was a real person? And apples can poison you if you eat the seeds.”
Elfreda made a choking sound as she clawed up more mud. More pebbles. Her head was hot, and her toes were nubs of ice.
“Why were you wearing a ring?” Georgina splashed barefoot into the pond. “Don’t tell me you’re married.”
“I’m not telling you anything.” Elfreda rose to standing, rivulets streaming down her legs.
“Good Lord, you are married. How can that be?”
Elfreda pushed past her.
“Who is he?” Georgina followed. “Did he dress in sprinkled calfskin and trick you into thinking he’s a book?”
Elfreda spun. “You—” She failed to finish the insult. Georgina was an inch away, emanating dryness and warmth, her gaze the blue of wood smoke. Mesmerizing as a flame.
“Me?” drawled Georgina. “A favorite topic. Go on.”
“Go to the devil,” muttered Elfreda and waded for the bank.
“Not until I find your ring,” called Georgina. “It’s the least I can do.”
“For God’s sake, I haven’t lost a ring.” Elfreda turned back. Georgina stood where she’d been standing, arms crossed.
“You’re not married,” she said, triumphantly smug. “I didn’t think so.”
Elfreda bristled. She was three-and-twenty, more than old enough for marriage—approaching old maid. All the girls who’d played hoops with Georgina on the village green had been married for years. Certainly, Georgina herself. Whenever she’d been in residence at Redmayne Manor, suitors had arrived from each of the cardinal directions, leaving swathes of flower-denuded meadow in their wake.
“I haven’t felt inclined to marry,” said Elfreda. “I’ve been doing other things. Interesting things.”
“Like what?” Georgina raised her brows. “Traveling?”
“A bit,” said Elfreda, cursing herself for taking the bait. “A few rambles. Barrow digging.”
“Barrow digging.” Georgina cleared her throat. “Barrows are graves, yes?”
“Ancient burial mounds.”
“Ah,” said Georgina. “Charming. What about parties? Any cavorting with people who have flesh on their bones?”
“I attended an Assembly at Thornton.”
“One dance in five years?”
Elfreda frowned. Aunt Susan had forced the issue, singeing off most of her fringe with the curling tongs in the process. That one dance had been more than enough.
“I socialize,” said Elfreda, stiffly. “Lord Fawcett still hosts those Venetian breakfasts. You must remember them. The last time you went you poured brandy in the lemonade and let John Worrell take the blame.”
“He was delighted to take the blame. He lived to impress me with his gallantry. Whatever happened to John Worrell?”
“He married Jane Slater.”
“My favorite of the Janes.” Georgina shook her head. “What else? Have you made any bosom friends?”
Elfreda’s frown deepened. “No.”
“Romantic conquests?”
“I’ve been doing things that I find interesting. If you are attempting to compare our recent
activities, you can stop now. You won’t hit upon similarities.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” said Georgina, with exaggerated gravity. “Because I’ve been having a tremendously good time.”

Excerpted from A Rare Find by Joanna Lowell Copyright © 2025 by Joanna Lowell. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

Excerpt. ©Joanna Lowell. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.
 
 

Giveaway: 1 Finished copy of A RARE FIND by Joanna Lowell (U.S. only, 18+)

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Meet the Author:

Joanna Lowell lives among the fig trees in North Carolina, where she teaches in the English department at Wake Forest University. When she’s not writing historical romance, she writes collections and novels as Joanna Ruocco. Those books include Dan, Another Governess / The Least Blacksmith, The Week, and Field Glass, coauthored with Joanna Howard.

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