|
|
|
|
|
Egyptian
archeologist and amateur detective Amelia Peabody pursues both vocations again in this
sequel to Crocodile
on the Sandbank. Five years after she has solved that mystery, some things have
changed. She and Emerson have married and together have a young son. "I fear we have
bred a monster," he says proudly at one point. Little else has changed. Victorian
England still tries her patience.
"Bucolic peace is not my ambience, and
the giving of tea parties is by no means my favorite amusement. In fact, I would prefer
to be pursued across the desert by a band of savage Dervishes brandishing spears and
howling for my blood." After admitting that this hasn't yet happened to her, although
other equally unlikely adventures have, she continues. "However, Emerson once remarked
that if I should encounter a band of Dervishes, five minutes of my nagging would
unquestionably inspire even the mildest of them to massacre me. Emerson considers this
sort of remark humorous."
And so do I. Don't start reading the series
here, since the first is too good to miss. This book continues with an entertaining
cast, including an aristocratic widow, an Irish reporter, an American adventurer, an
outrageous and unlikable matron and her innocent daughter who is on the verge of romance.
Oh, yes, and then there's the matter of the widow's unfortunate husband. His cause of
death was undetermined, yet it happened during the night just as he was beginning the
excavation of a royal Egyptian tomb. Was his death murder or curse? His widow wants
Amelia and Emerson to follow her to Egypt and find out.
Of course, Amelia
is up to the challenge. And if, Dear Reader, you are too, then you'll follow Amelia
anywhere and enjoy every minute.
|
|
|
|
