Palace of Spies (Palace of Spies #1) by Sarah Zettel

 Book Description:
  

A warning to all young ladies of delicate breeding who wish to embark upon lives of adventure: Don't. 

Sixteen-year-old Peggy is a well-bred orphan who is coerced into posing as a lady in waiting at the palace of King George I. Life is grand, until Peggy starts to suspect that the girl she's impersonating might have been murdered. Unless Peggy can discover the truth, she might be doomed to the same terrible fate. But in a court of shadows and intrigue, anyone could be a spy—perhaps even the handsome young artist with whom Peggy is falling in love . . . 

History and mystery spark in this effervescent series debut.

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Sarah Zettel

 Interview:

1. What inspired you to write about the book?

 I'd just read a fabulous book by Lucy Worley called Courtiers which was a history of Kensington Palace and its inhabitants during the reign of George I.  There was so much intrigue, spying and general, casual skullduggery at all levels, I almost couldn't help seeing a novel, or a series in it. 

2. Describe your book in 1-2 sentences?

Peggy Fitzroy, thrown out of her home, must impersonate a maid of honor for the Princess of Wales, discover what happened to her predecessor, elude Jacobite plots, keep ahead of the gossip and create a life for herself.  Oh, and not get killed by one side, or the other.

3. Tell us 3 interesting facts about you.

I'm a 3rd generation science fiction geek.  I've written and published 24 novels.  I can wiggle my nose.

4. Book/s you look forward to read this year?

I've just discovered romance writer Courtney Milan, and am really enjoying working my way through her books.  There's a new anthology of women crime writers out that I can't wait to sink my teeth into.  I still hope to get to The Night Circus before too much longer, but that will depend on what I see next at the bookstore.  Did I mention my To Be Read pile is a six-foot-tall bookcase?

5. Sneak Peek! Your most favorite scene from A Most Dangerous Deception?

Check out below :D

Okay.  It's not a very long excerpt, but it is some of my favorite writing in the book:

 I have a warning I wish to impart most urgently to all young ladies of delicate breeding who wish to embark upon lives of adventure.

Don’t.  

Adventures, as it happens, are universally uncomfortable things, and as near as I can determine, are frowned upon by Nature and Nature’s God.  What I mean by this is that we had not been on the river yet half an hour before it began once more to rain.

Neither was this a light, misting summer rain.  No.  This was a steady downpouring of fat determined drops such as would quickly worm their way under all layers of cloth to leave leave the fair adventurer soaked to the skin and cold to her maiden’s bones.

Neither was that the only inconvenience regarding clothing.  For it should be fairly obvious to even the most casual and disinterested observer that a lady cannot go adventuring in her mantua.  Matthew, who had already sacrificed so much for this mad venture, went further yet and loaned me his spare set of clothes.  Nothing fit, from the boots to the coat, and having my legs exposed to the view of the entire world, even though encased in breeches, was much less comfortable than I had dreamed it would be.  

It was not made any more comfortable by the fact that this was no royal barge that carried us.  We rode in a battered rowboat so slender and low that the Thames regularly lapped over the gunwales.  One sour, tobacco- spitting man plied the oars.  Another stood in the bow by the lantern, watching the way and cursing the rain, the river, the dark, and anything else that came to mind.  Both of them ignored myself and Matthew as thoroughly as they ignored the lumpy sack we huddled together on.  

There was only one sack.  There were, as the observant reader will have noticed, two of us, and we were forbidden to stand, lest we cause the boat to rock.  So, my all but naked leg, from ankle to thigh, was pressed up close to Matthew’s.  My side, which was innocent of stays for almost the first time since I turned eleven, pushed against his.  The linen bands that had been applied in an attempt to reduce, shall we say, any immediate impression that I might be female, felt a pitifully thin shield between us. 

The worst of it was, I had no strength of heart or mind left to enjoy this position.  The rain that the English summer lavished upon us had left the river was swift and rough, and we must alternately huddle together for warmth, and bail frantically to help keep the low boat from submerging entirely.  I was half dead with worry over Olivia.  Mrs. Abbott swore she was out of danger.  Matthew said the same, but how could she be?  She was still in the palace.  I could not move her, and even if I could, where would me move her too?  There was nowhere.  But how could I have just left her there?  The murderer still roamed freely, somewhere.  Probably they would not strike at Olivia lying hidden and quiet in the narrow chamber Mrs. Abbott had deserted.  Probably once they realized their latest bolt had missed its mark, they would follow me, or Robert, and leave Olivia alone.

Probably.