Blurb
Publicist Teri Hunter has her hands full
promoting Professor Joshua Cain and his new non-fiction book, The Pharaoh’s Mummy. She’s not convinced
it’s even possible to turn this absent-minded, modern-day, Indiana Jones into a best-selling author.
Dr. Cain’s PhDs in archaeology and art
history have prepared him for almost anything on the lecture circuit and among
ancient ruins. He’s just not sure about a book tour...or the sexy publicist
sent to monitor his every professional move.
When an odd request falls in their laps
while in New Orleans, Josh and Teri find themselves transported to 1920’s Egypt
where they must resolve an ancient curse in order to be sent home. Will the
dangers facing them hinder their success and threaten their very lives? Or will
help from an ancient guardian keep them on-track and safe?
***
Excerpt
Wake up. Kick ass. Repeat.
Teri
Hunter mouthed the motivational phrase she’d chosen for her personal mantra as
she stepped across the threshold into the dark and musty storeroom.
A
dim light shone from a glass-enclosed workroom in the far corner. Taking a
tentative step forward, she faltered when the floorboards creaked beneath her
feet. Something fast and furry brushed against her ankle. A shiver ran down her
back, yet she fought the urge to retreat.
Do one thing every day that scares
you.
This
was obviously today’s obstacle. Were it not for her professional commitments
and intricately organized schedule, she’d have no doubt bolted for the door and
returned to the safety and illumination of the main building.
‘Sorry, but the storage area doesn’t
have overhead lighting. Preservation of the antiquities. You understand.’ The dean’s words echoed
in her head. To make matters worse, what little outside light there was had
become nearly non-existent due to an impending thunderstorm.
Drawing
a deep breath, she took a second step and then a third, winding her way past a
half-dozen crates, some open, some not. To her left she heard a rustling of
paper; to her right the distinct sound of footsteps.
Her
apprehension grew, the hair on her forearms stood at attention. She’d barely
made it halfway across the room before bumping into something large and solid.
Reaching out, she laid her hand against the oversized object. Slowly, she
raised her head and came face to face with the painted mask of an Egyptian
noble. The chipped finish gave the death mask a deranged look.
“You
come here often, big boy?”
***
Excerpt
Teri
stared in amazement at the well-worn guest home Dr. Cain had chosen for their
stay. In her mind’s eye, she could see the grand entranceway of the Marriott on
Canal Street, feel the pampered luxury of the hotel spa. Instead, she got this
. . . an early nineteenth-century home in obvious need of repair. Collingwood,
apparently, had history. Of what, she wasn’t certain. From the road, it looked
like something torn from the pages of a horror novel.
“This
is where we’re staying?” she asked, unable to hide her surprise and
disappointment.
“You’re
welcome to go elsewhere, if you’d like. Personally, I prefer a room with some
character.”
She
choked back an outright laugh. “It’s certainly got character. As a matter of
fact, Freddie Kruger comes to mind.”
He
shot her a disapproving frown before taking his bags from the driver and starting
up the front walkway. Teri had no choice but to follow. They’d barely made it
to the porch when the huge oak door opened. A short, frail-looking woman stood
in the entryway.
“Welcome
back, Joshua,” the woman greeted.
“Thank
you, Martha. It’s good to be here.” Glancing back to where Teri stood, he said,
“This is Miss Hunter. She’s with me.”
“Oh,”
the woman said simply. “Welcome, Miss Hunter. We trust your stay here at
Collingwood will be enjoyable.”
Teri
smiled faintly, but couldn’t muster up a ‘thank you’ to save her soul.
“One
room or two, Joshua?”
In
unison, they both answered, “Two.”
Martha
responded with a minute bob of her graying head and then motioned toward the
parlor with a sweep of her hand. “We were just about to have tea if you’d care
to join us.”
“If
you don’t mind,” Dr. Cain began, “we’d like to get situated in our rooms. We’ve
got an event at the museum tonight and I, for one, would like a bit of down
time to work on my lecture.”
“You’re
in your usual room. I can give Miss Hunter the room next to yours, if you’d
like.”
He
shook his head. “Perhaps she would be more comfortable across the hall with the
view of the garden.”
“As
you wish, Joshua.”
Teri
followed closely behind as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. She was
about to turn toward the long hallway when she realized they were climbing yet
another flight. What she wouldn’t give, she realized, for an elevator or even a
bellman. Rather than voice her wishes, she hiked her carry-on higher up on her
shoulder and tugged on the handle of her suitcase until the wheels gained
purchase on the worn carpet. The next landing looked to be at least a half-mile
away.
When
they reached the third floor, Martha stopped outside the first room off the
staircase and opened the door. “This is your room, Miss Hunter.”
Dr.
Cain, Teri realized, had already crossed the hallway and opened the door to the
room just opposite hers. Teri took a short step forward. “Thank you.”
“Bathroom
is down the hall,” Martha told her, the woman’s simple statement stopping Teri
dead in her tracks.
“Down
the hall?” she asked. “You mean there’s no bathroom in my suite?”
Martha
chuckled heartily, her wrinkled cheeks jiggling and sagging like warm Jell-O.
“Child, there’s no suite in your suite, it’s just a room. And, everyone shares
the facilities.” Nodding toward the end of the long hallway, she added, “The
key hangs outside the door. You take it in with you, lock the door from the
inside and try not to take longer than fifteen minutes.”
***
Excerpt
A
cool breeze brushed across her skin, pulling her back toward wakefulness. She
smoothed her hand across her forearm and felt tiny goose bumps beneath her
fingertips. She turned her head from side to side and opened her eyes. The
sight greeting her sent her heart rate into overdrive.
“Who
are you?” the woman asked.
Teri
pressed her eyes shut tight in an effort to dispel the vision, to wake up from
what was obviously a dream. When she opened her eyes again, she could make out
the faint image of a woman standing at the foot of her bed.
She
should have been frightened, paralyzed with fear in fact. But wasn’t. Instead,
she found herself struck by the woman’s classic beauty. Her jet-black hair hung
in a straight frame around her face, falling just short of her waist. Her huge
dark eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner. The flowing robe she wore was a
plush cloth of deepest purple, trimmed in gold thread. The expensive garment
hugged her ample curves.
“I’m
Teri, Teri Hunter.”
“From
where do you hail, Teri Hunter?”
“Excuse
me?” The woman’s speech seemed stilted, as if she struggled with the English
language. Rather than answer her question, Teri asked, “Who are you?”
“I
am Anukahaten, guardian of the queen-Pharaoh’s tomb.”
“You’re
the guardian of Hatshepsut’s tomb?” Teri asked. The urge to pinch herself awake
was overwhelming, but not as tempting as the thought of asking a few more
questions before she did.
“Yes.
It is so. Many years ago, I failed my queen and now I struggle to make things
right.”
“I
know about the stone,” she admitted, “and the curse. Can you tell us where to
find the statue?”
“I
only know it is here, close to Cairo, but I know not where.”
“Can
you at least tell me what it looks like, so we’ll know when we’ve found it?”
“It
is barely as tall as the length of a man’s hand,” Anukahaten began, “no bigger
than a . . .”
Anukahaten’s
vision began to fade, her voice trailing off, interrupted by an insistent
tapping, an intrusion Teri wanted desperately to ignore.
***
Buy
Links: Amazon
Direct
Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LY6GQX8
Fun
Fact The
idea for Eye of the Pharaoh came
about following a trip to the Field Museum in Chicago. For the longest time
afterward, I couldn’t get the images of ancient Egypt out of my head. Then, out
of the blue, I received a gift from a relative who had passed...a gorgeous
necklace fashioned like an Egyptian collar. The late relative had no way of
knowing about my recent fascination with Egypt so I took it as a sign. There
was obviously a story inside me begging to come out.
Author
Bio
Like most authors, Nancy Fraser began
writing at an early age, usually on the walls and with crayons or, heaven
forbid, permanent markers. Her love of writing often made her the English
teacher’s pet, which, of course, resulted in a whole lot of teasing. Still, it
was worth it.
Published in multiple genres, Nancy
currently writes for four publishers. She has published twenty-two books in
both full-length and novella format. Nancy will release her 25th book in early
2017. She is currently working on her next Rock and Roll novella and two other
equally exciting projects.
When not writing (which is almost never),
Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling
and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys
the relaxed pace and colorful people.
Website: www.nancyfraser.ca
Twitter: https://twitter.com/nfraserauthor @nfraserauthor
Facebook: http://facebook.com/nancyfraserauthor
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004AOL61Y
