Why I fell in love with medieval England and the lost crown jewels

People often ask me why I’m so drawn to medieval England—why my stories always seem to circle back to that mysterious, candlelit world of kings, castles, and forgotten relics. The truth is, it began quite simply: with a book about K

ing John.

I still remember the moment I read that he had lost all the crown jewels in the Wash, a tidal estuary on England’s eastern coast. The image caught me—a desperate king, trapped by rising water, wagons filled with treasure sinking into the mud. History tells us that those jewels were never found, though many have searched over the centuries. But the storyteller in me couldn’t help wondering: What if they weren’t all lost? What if someone—somehow—got hold of a few of them? 

That thought lit a spark I’ve never been able to put out. In my research, I came across an image of a golden hand adorned with gems, a relic once associated with Empress Maud and later said to have passed from her into England’s royal treasury. Lost in the Wash. From there, history and imagination began to weave together—fact merging with possibility. 

And because I’ve always loved stories about time travel, it was a natural progression to combine time travel with the mystery of the lost jewels.

That’s where my journey into The Hand of Maud began—and it’s a journey I’m still joyfully on.