Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Sneak Peek of Treasure of Egypt

The adventure begins...

Journey to the land of the pharaoh’s, in the year 1863, where the search for treasure digs up more than a little danger.

London, England, 1863

The taverns beside the wharf were busier than usual, Alec noted as he stepped from his coach and looked up at his driver. “I don’t expect to be here long.”
“Aye, m’lord.” Porter nodded as he eyed the street. “I’d be keepin' an eye out for the riffraff. No tellin' who’s lurkin' about on a night like this.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alec said, amused by Porter’s concern as he turned to survey the entrance of the Boar’s Head. From the sound of it, the gaming hell was already in full swing. He watched as three young blades walked out the double doors, jovially hitting one another on the back, their anecdotes alluding to a night already well spent.
Ah, the young, Alec thought as he walked into the smoke-filled tavern, they’d be lucky to wake with only a hangover and not some other affliction.
The music from the quartet on stage mingled with the gaiety of the crowd as he assessed the room. His brow lifted slightly as a woman in a scarlet gown approached him, her generous favors barely concealed by the tight corset she wore.
“Hello, 'andsome. Would ye care for some company?”
Alec favored her with a lazy smile. “Just a whiskey tonight, love.” He cradled her elbow as she turned to fetch his drink. “And bring it from the bottle, not the well.”
“Aye, luv,” she said breathlessly, tripping over herself as she left.
He knew he’d been blessed with the kind of looks that women desired. He also knew how to use them to get what he wanted, in this case a drink that wouldn’t kill him when he awoke on the morrow.
Alec turned his attention to the crowded room once again. He hadn’t visited this particular establishment in years, yet it was exactly as he remembered, down to the smell. Cheap perfume and cigar smoke hung in the air.
He hadn’t missed anything, it seemed, with the exception of the lovely young dove dressed in canary yellow, swinging from the ceiling. Alec stood for a moment, watching as she swept over the crowd from her high perch.
The new attraction had drawn quite a crowd. Calls from the men below were enough to entice the girl to show more of her nicely turned ankle. Her actions were met with cheering applause as she leaned back in the swing and laughed. The movement only succeeded in exposing more of her shapely calf.
A large woman belted out a bawdy tune on the stage as the audience roared with laughter over her suggestive lyrics and comical gestures. No wonder Samuel wanted to meet here tonight; it was his kind of place. . . . They were only missing the elephants, Alec thought with amusement as he glanced around the room, filled with a collection of ruffians, rakehells, and even wilder women, for some sign of his friend.
Just then, he heard a woman’s sultry voice at his side before she brushed up against him. “If you’re looking for company, darlin', you’re in luck. I’m right here.”
Alec couldn’t help but show his amusement as he smiled down at the lovely redhead. The green of her eyes matched that of her dress, while the red rose tucked into her décolletage matched her reddened lips.
Noting the direction of his gaze, she pressed her body further into his, rubbing her hand along his chest.
Alec’s smile deepened. “Actually, I was just thinking to try my luck at the tables.”
“Well, then, follow me, darlin'.” She moved to grasp his forearm. “I know just the table where we can both be comfortable, and I promise you’ll get lucky.”
“Leavin' so soon?” The woman in the scarlet gown pouted up at him as she held out his glass. “Sure I can’t change yer mind 'bout that?” she said, claiming his other side.
“Hhmm,” Alec responded to their combined assault with good humor, “a most delightful offer. Perhaps later.” He accepted the drink, using it as an excuse to extricate himself from both their grasps. As he did so, he expertly slipped a coin into her cleavage in return for it.
“We’ll both be dancin' the cancan later, if you’d like to watch.” The woman in green swiveled her hips.
“Tempting ladies, truly, but for now. . . .” Alec gifted his would-be seducers with another smile, showing the dimple in his cheek as he left them.
“He’s a right 'andsome one, 'e is.” The barmaid in red sighed, while the one in green nodded wistfully.
Obviously, there was no peace to be had this night, Alec thought with some derision as he headed to the back room. He was simply being hounded by women. As it was, he’d already escaped a crowded ballroom where the debutantes had practically mauled him, and now this.
Normally he enjoyed the attentions lavished on him by the fairer sex, but tonight he was simply tired of it, which was why he now sought the sanctity of the game room, where he could relax without being accosted.
As Alec passed under the tall entry arch, he noticed an opening at one of the tables. Crossing the short distance, he approached the players. “Gentlemen, care if I join you?” he asked.
A man with a bristled mustache answered, “By all means, good man. I was beginning to think that play would be cut short with no takers. Lord Campton’s the name, and this chap here is Lord—”
“Bristol,” the man seated across the table finished with a nod.
“Monsieur Blanoiś,” the Frenchman sitting to his right offered up with a dignified nod of his head.
An older gentleman with a walking cane moved to stand for his introduction.
“Please stay seated, sir. No need for such formality.” Alec hid a wry smile. Even in a den of iniquity, the older set were such sticklers for protocol. It never failed to amuse him.
“Lord Langston.” The older man leaned back, settling himself once again.
Alec introduced himself as he took his seat and play resumed. It didn’t take long for him to evaluate the competition. Bristol’s mustache twitched when he bluffed, while Campton drummed his fingers lightly on the table. The Frenchman’s dark eyes gave very little away, yet his mouth tightened into a thin line when the cards turned against him. The old lord was the hardest to discern. The man revealed nothing, not even when he’d lost ten thousand pounds in a single hand.
Strands of the rousing, yet forbidden, cancan drifted back from the main salon as the cards were dealt once again. Alec could feel the tension in the Frenchman sitting next to him as he sipped from his drink. The man had lost a considerable amount in the last hand . . . his lips had thinned to near vanishing.
Alec looked at his hand briefly while the old lord placed his wager.
“I’ll see your bet and raise you five thousand.” Bristol met the old man’s bid.
Alec could feel the anticipation mount as he considered the other players. Lord Campton straightened his handlebars as he drew upon his pipe, while Bristol nervously strummed his fingers.
“I’ll see that and raise it ten.” Monsieur Blanoiś sat back, swirling the contents of his drink.
Alec watched the Frenchman over the rim of his own glass, noting the subtle changes in his attitude. He looked like a man who believed his luck had finally changed.
More than one man in the room took notice as the stakes became considerable. Several ladies had even braved the back room, joining the crowd that had gathered around the high-stakes game.
Alec glanced at his own cards briefly before placing several notes onto the center. “I’ll see it and raise it twenty.”
The old lord surprised everyone as he slid the near fortune in front of him into the center of the table. “One hundred thousand pounds,” he announced.
An audible gasp was heard throughout the room as the old man remained leaning forward in his seat, showing the first sign of emotion since Alec had sat down at the table.
“Forgive me. I didn’t expect play to be so deep this evening.” The Frenchman gestured with his hand as he explained, “I will have to sign a note.”
“You’ve a voucher for only half that amount,” Campton raised his voice as the Frenchman signed the card. “How is it that we know you’re good for it?”
The Frenchman’s eyes sparkled dangerously in the low light. Though he kept a tight lid on his emotions, Alec wouldn’t have been surprised if he called the Englishman out over the slight. “I have signed the note,” he countered indignantly.
“Do you have collateral to back this up?” the older gentleman asked.
The Frenchman took his time considering his next words. “Oui,” he finally said. Reaching inside his coat pocket, he pulled out a rolled-up piece of parchment. He leaned forward dramatically, holding it up for all to see. “This, gentlemen, is a map leading to the greatest treasure known to man.” With an action bordering on reverence, he slid his note for one hundred thousand pounds inside the scroll and placed it in the middle of the gaming table. “I use it only as collateral.”
Alec raised an eyebrow in response. From where he sat, it looked to be nothing more than a mottled old scrap tied with a leather string. It took considerable effort to hide his amusement over the man’s bet.
“What else do you have?” Lord Campton scoffed, drawing even more interest from the other tables. He sat back with a smirk on his face that even his large mustache couldn’t hide.
“You can’t be serious.” Lord Bristol shook his head. Snickers were heard throughout the room in response to his words.
“I stand good for it, I assure you. I have the funds,” Monsieur Blanoiś insisted as he waited for his offer to be accepted.
A woman’s high-pitched trill could be heard above the din. “That’s what they all say,” she snorted heartily. The crowd’s raucous laughter mingled with the music in the background.
Lord Langston interrupted the commotion by holding up his hand. “I will accept it as such.” There was a loud murmur among those watching.
Bristol threw his cards down and shook his head. “Too rich for my blood.”
“I’m out,” Campton muttered, sitting back in a cloud of smoke.
Alec eyed the crowd that had gathered before slowly counting out the desired amount and sliding it toward the pile. “Call.”
The floor itself bounced in rhythm to the pounding feet of the dancers in the other room as Lord Langston placed his cards down. A full house, three aces and two kings, stared up from the table. The whole room buzzed with anticipation.
The Frenchman could hardly contain his exhilaration as he triumphantly spread out his hand. It was a straight flush, starting with the eight of clubs and ending with the queen.
There was a murmur of excitement from the onlookers who pressed forward to catch a glimpse. The winnings in this game alone would be a source of legend, let alone the cards being played to earn it. The Frenchman leaned forward to collect his prize. There was only one hand that could beat him, and those odds were astronomical.
“One moment, please.” Alec leaned forward, stilling the man’s hands over the pile. Slowly he turned his cards over, displaying a royal spade flush, ace high. The tension in the room exploded as the audience gasped in surprise. The Frenchman sat back, muttering to himself as Alec leaned forward to collect his winnings.
“It’s a raid!” a man called from the hall outside.
Laughter in the main salon quickly turned to shouting as the gaming room became flooded with fleeing patrons, their screams filling the air. “Run! Run! It’s a raid!”
Alec stood and quickly gathered the rest of the pile before him, stuffing money into his pockets as men pressed toward the door.
“I’ll see you in the morning to settle my debt,” the Frenchman shouted as he was caught in the throng and whisked away.
Alec looked up to see the old gentleman watching him calmly as he sat back comfortably in his chair.
“You’ll probably never see him again,” Lord Langston remarked, seemingly serene amongst the chaos. “I’d be happy to purchase the note from you. After all, I was the one who pressured you to accept it.”
Alec was surprised by the gesture as he fingered the old scroll thoughtfully. The old man was probably right, he realized. The Frenchman was probably hightailing it out of the country as they spoke. “That, I believe, is why they call it gambling,” Alec said as he tucked the map inside his coat. Tempted as he was to accept the old man’s offer, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Suit yourself,” the older gentleman said as he took a cigar from his pocket and nipped the end.
The whistles of the police grew louder as the room emptied. A flash of white from the corner caught Alec’s eye, and he turned towards it. He recognized the barmaid who’d brought him his drink earlier, though her ensemble now consisted of a short skirt and petticoat, the white frills of which had drawn his attention.
“Over here, luv. Quickly.” She beckoned to him as she opened up a secret panel in the wall.
Alec considered the older gentleman again. “Could I assist you in leaving?”
“Son,” he rolled the cigar in his mouth, “at my age, I’d have to try hard to convince them I’d been up to something other than playing cards.”
Alec smiled at his wit. “I bid you goodnight, then,” he said before turning towards the woman who still waited for him.
As the police drew nearer, Alec stepped inside the hidden passage, aware that it could very well turn out to be a trap. They were immediately enclosed in darkness as the woman slammed the false door closed behind him.
“Follow me,” she whispered after lighting a taper.
Bent over in the cramped space, Alec received a face full of fluff on several occasions as he trailed closely behind her. At last, they came to a door where they could stand. She paused, breathless, before it, trying the handle with little effect.
“Allow me,” he said, reaching past her to take hold of the handle. Obviously well used, the concealed door slid soundlessly on well-oiled hinges. Hidden behind dense foliage, it opened, not into the alleyway as he might have guessed, but into a walled garden. The woman at his side quickly extinguished the light as she crossed to the opening to peer out into the street.
“I’ll be damned,” Alec whispered in surprise as he joined her. They watched the bobbies chase several people down the alley. Even more amazing to him than his escape was the sight of his coachman just rounding the corner. He chuckled; Lady Luck was definitely on his side tonight.
He looked down at the woman who stood in the doorway. In the streetlight, she looked much younger than before. “You deserve a reward,” he whispered.
She pressed her breasts into him, turning her lips up to his for a kiss. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out several bills, placing them into her hand. “For saving me,” he said with a wink before running across the short expanse of grass towards his carriage.
“Laws, guv!” she cried in surprise as she counted the huge sum she’d been given before tucking it into her décolletage. “Sure you wouldn’t care for a tumble?” she called after him.
He had no idea the total, but he’d probably just given her several thousand pounds. Of course she’d be inviting him back, Alec thought, somewhat amused as he climbed aboard the slow moving coach to the oblivion of the police down the road. “Just like old times, eh, Porter?” he hollered over to his driver.
“Aye, that it is, m’lord.” Porter was hardly surprised by the new arrival as he steered the carriage clear of the paddy wagons. “Home, sir?”
Alec nodded as he opened the door and settled himself inside. Sitting back against the tufted seat, he sighed. Could the night be any sweeter? Not only had he won an incredible sum with the hand of a lifetime, but he’d also managed to win a treasure map.
A map to the greatest treasure known to man. . . . It was intriguing, to be sure. Alec removed the scroll from the inside pocket of his jacket, rolling it in his fingers. The old man’s interest in buying the map had certainly piqued his curiosity. Absentmindedly, he tapped it against the palm of his hand before putting it back.
As he alighted from the carriage, Alec handed Porter a handsome tip. “Well done, my man,” he complimented him as he headed to the front steps of his town house.
“The missus will be right 'appy, m’lord.” Porter smiled as he pocketed the notes.
Alec let himself in, having dismissed his butler earlier in the evening. It was customary when he knew a late night was in store. Although it was still early by some standards, the clock in the foyer showed half past two. He shrugged off his coat as he headed toward his study, thinking a glass of brandy was just what he needed to wind down before bed.
Whack! Wood splintered next to his face as he opened the door to the darkened room.
“What the hell?” He ducked as a fist slammed into the side of his head from the other direction. The blow knocked him against another man, who tried to wrestle his arms to his side. “Not without a bloody fight, you don’t,” Alec growled, surprising the thug with his strength and speed.
He raised his arms, despite the man’s efforts to restrain him, and quickly jabbed with his right. Though he could barely make out their forms in the dim light filtering through the window, the blow connected with the man’s throat.
As the ruffian went down, the man behind Alec seized his arms again. He struggled against the strong grip as another looming figure succeeded in connecting a punch to his ribs. Alec felt the air leave his lungs as he doubled over. The bastard must be wearing brass knuckles, he’d hit him so hard.
Alec sucked in air, reared back, and kicked out at the man in front of him. The impact sent both him and the man holding him back into his desk. Several items scattered to the floor as they fought. Alec rolled free of the man’s grasp just as a candelabra crashed down next to him.
Alec blocked another blow from the heavy base then reached out to twist the candelabrum free. Tearing it out of the assailant’s grasp, he swung it hard, feeling it connect. The man grunted and staggered back. He was about to swing it again when a vase struck him in the back. It bounced off and hit the floor, shattering into a million pieces.
“That was my grandmother’s vase,” Alec ground out as he turned and hit the man square in the face. “An antique,” he kicked out, sweeping the fool off his feet, “from the Ming dynasty!” The man hit the bookcase, sending several volumes to the floor.
From the corner of his eye Alec saw the outline of a chair as it came towards him. Snatching it in midair, he spun around and tossed it in an arc, sending it crashing against the wall. Unfortunately, he barely had time to cover his head with his hands as a small table broke over his back. The blow sent him staggering to his knees.
With catlike stealth, Alec shifted to his feet, reaching inside his boot for the knife he kept there. He straightened, prepared for the next attack.
BOOM! A shot rang out in the dark.
Plaster rained down on Alec from the ceiling. His ears were still ringing as he watched the scoundrels throw open the window and flee into the night.
“Are you all right, m’lord?” Sims asked, standing in his nightshirt before the open door.
Alec shook the debris from his hair as a candle was lit. “So it seems.” He replaced the knife before standing. “What the hell took you so long?” he asked, looking around at the devastation.
Sims cleared his throat. “Sorry, m’lord. I thought at first you’d brought home an especially spirited female.”
“Bloody hell!” Alec ran a hand through his hair.
“Should I call the constable, sir?” Sims asked.
“No,” Alec replied, looking over at his butler, who was normally the picture of decorum. He had to hide a smile. With his hair standing on end, Sims looked like he was the one who’d just come from a fight. “I don’t think they’ll be returning anytime soon.”
Alec spied his coat where it had fallen on the floor. He picked it up and shook it out. The bills it had once held lay strewn across the debris. With a slight groan, he tossed the jacket to the side as Sims dutifully started picking up the mess.
“Leave it until morning,” Alec said tiredly as he sat down in his large leather chair. “You can pour me a brandy before you go back to bed, however.”
“Very good, sir,” Sims replied, handing him the drink, along with the decanter.
“Bloody hell!” Samuel looked around the study in surprise. “What happened in here?”
The expletive woke Alec with a start and he groaned, leaning forward. Damn, he hadn’t meant to spend the whole night in the chair. He winced as Samuel threw open the shades, flooding the room with bright sunshine.
“I thought I’d find you surrounded by your booty, but not quite like this.” Samuel laughed as he surveyed the mess on the floor.
“Booty?” Alec blinked up at him, shading his eyes.
“It’s all the talk this morning.” Samuel grinned from ear to ear. “You raked in quite a sum, I understand, along with a treasure map.”
“Too bad you missed it.” Alec grimaced as he rolled his shoulder. “Where did you disappear to after the Chesterfields’ ball? I thought we’d agreed to meet at the Boar’s Head.”
“Sorry about that. I was tied up.” Samuel raised his brows suggestively.
“Figuratively or literally?”
“That woman is relentless, I tell you.” Samuel grinned mischievously.
He’d known better than to ask. Alec brought up his hand and rubbed his neck, while Samuel rambled on. Damn, he was sore. It must have been the table they broke over his back, or the cracked rib, or the sucker punch to the face, he thought, feeling the tender area around his eye.
Samuel glanced over, noticing the slight bruise Alec now sported. “I’m surprised that anyone could get the best of you.”
“Who said there was only one?” Alec looked up at him with his good eye.
“Hmm,” Samuel responded as he started picking up fistfuls of money and arranging them into piles while Alec poured himself another drink.
“How much should you have here?” Samuel asked with interest. “The rumor mills said you raked in at least three-fifty.”
“Really?” It was Alec’s turn to be surprised.
“You mean you don’t know?” Both Samuel’s brows shot up. “The game of the season, it’s being said, possibly decade . . . and you didn’t even count your winnings?”
“I was busy.” Alec gestured to the utter chaos.
“Two hundred thirty-four thousand,” Samuel whistled when he finished the tally. “Not including, of course, the infamous note and treasure map for another one hundred. How much do you think they got away with?”
“I doubt they got anything.” Alec watched the liquor in his glass move as he rolled it. He did a quick tally in his head. “The winnings came to about two hundred fifty. I gave several bills to one of the tavern wenches and tipped my driver.”
“You gave a strumpet sixteen thousand pounds?” Samuel snorted in surprise. “Holy hell. . . . You were busy.”
There was no use explaining. Alec shook his head slightly. Samuel always came to his own conclusions, anyway.
“What will your fiancée say when she finds out?” Samuel feigned shock.
“What fiancée?” Alec narrowed his eyes on him.
“The one your mother all but proposed to in your stead.”
“Hell,” Alec groaned. “What else is the rumor mill saying?”
“Oh, that one isn’t just a rumor. It’s one of the bets that has been placed in the ledger at White’s,” Samuel said, speaking of the book into which patrons of the gentleman’s club recorded their wagers.
“I suppose you’ve added one of your own?”
“Of course,” Samuel supplied with a grin. “I bet that you leave the country within a fortnight in order to avoid the whole affair.” He chuckled, enjoying Alec’s awkward set of circumstances.
“That sounds a bit extreme.” Alec irritably fluffed the cushion at his back, stabbing at it with his fist. “You seem to be enjoying this a little overly much.”
“I am,” Samuel said frankly. “You, my friend, have only just discovered the joys of a meddling mother, whereas I have had one for years.”
Alec couldn’t argue with that. Ever since Samuel had lost his father to an early death, his mother had practically smothered him. Alec hadn’t had any idea just how frustrating it was before now. He downed the brandy he’d just poured with a single swallow.
“Is this it?” Samuel’s voice was one of awe as he bent to pick up the scroll sticking out of Alec’s discarded jacket.
Alec looked up with one eye slightly scrunched. “Indeed.”
“What is it to?” Fascinated, Samuel pulled it out. Alec shrugged his shoulders in response. “You mean you didn’t even look? The greatest treasure of mankind, and you didn’t even look?” Samuel shook his head in disbelief as he unrolled the scroll.
“Well?” Alec asked from his chair as Samuel studied it. “What does it say?”
Samuel looked up with a blank stare, then turned it around for him to see. It looked like a sundial with chicken scratch all over it. “I believe you’ve been taken.”
“Let me see that.” Alec stood, snatching the document from Samuel as he started to laugh. “Hell,” Alec swore as he looked at it, not in the least bit amused. It was bloody unlikely he was going to get one hundred thousand pounds for the damn thing.
“Well, I certainly don’t envy you on this one either.” Samuel held up the largest piece of the ceramic vase.
“It wasn’t too bad.” Alec remembered the hit he took as one of the thugs broke it over his back.
“It will be when your mother finds out about it.”
“Hmmm,” Alec reflected.
“Maybe you can glue it . . . or leave town,” Samuel hedged.
“Although I’d love to help you win your bet, I think I’ll be staying.” Alec sat on the corner of the desk, looking at the drawing on the map.
“What’s that there?” Samuel pointed to the back of it.
Alec flipped the parchment over in his hand. On the other side was another set of drawings, and these looked Egyptian.
“Aha!” Samuel stooped over, picking up two pieces of paper from the floor. One was the voucher from the Frenchman, while the other had more strange writing with a line of fine penmanship beneath it. “This looks like ancient Greek.” Samuel looked up. “Wait, I recognize this. It’s been taken off the other side of the map.”
Alec turned the map over. Across the bottom was a line of the same ancient script. “My ancient Greek is a tad rusty.” He looked over at the note Samuel held. Beneath the Greek letters was another language. “How’s your French?”
“Better than yours,” Samuel said before reading it aloud. “What has four legs when it is born, two as an adult, and three when it dies?”
Alec rolled his eyes. “What does it really say?”
“That is what it says.” Samuel looked suitably annoyed.
“Are you serious?”
Alec groaned.
“It must be a riddle.” Samuel looked up with excitement.
“More like a joke, if you ask me,” Alec grumbled irritably. “One that I am to bear the brunt of.”
“Not necessarily,” Samuel replied thoughtfully as he turned the note over. “Look, there is more.”
“I don’t think I can take any more.”
“It appears to be a poem.” Samuel cleared his throat before reading:

O Golden One, the lady of Heaven.
I worship her majesty, I give adoration to Hathor
I called to her, she heard my plea. She sent my Mistress to me.

“Do you think it’s another clue?” Samuel looked up excitedly.
“A clue that someone is greatly disturbed, perhaps.” Alec glanced at him with a raised brow.
“Ah, yes.” Samuel nodded. “Seems your Frenchman was quite desperate for companionship. Either that, or he took his love of money quite seriously.”

If you love ancient world history and the unsolved mysteries this series is for you! Discover for yourself the origins of the Sphinx as well as several misidentified and unknown hieroglyphs!
Visit Barbara’s blog Histories Mysteries to learn more 
My enduring Romance with the Ancient World!

I love all things from the ancient world! The art, the legacy of myths, and mysteries that early cultures produced have had my imagination in overdrive since I was a young . . . um---err, well for years! LOL!
The unsolved mysteries especially have held me enraptured, both as an artist and author, giving rise to both my series: Treasure of the Ancients and Paranormally Yours. The first series adheres strictly to the real world; although it is fiction. The research on the language and mythology is quite extensive, whereas the series Paranormally Yours jumps into the world of fantasy with both feet. . . . Perhaps flying leap is more apt. Hahaha!
The first book in the series Treasure or the AncientsTreasure of Egypt, delves into one of the greatest mysteries of the ancient world, the myths surrounding the Great Sphinx. Mankind has asked for centuries where the image of the Sphinx originated. Discover for yourself the origins of the amazing symbol as well as several hieroglyphs that have been misidentified or unknown altogether.
The research into the book took years and when I do deviate from the “real world” to explore the ancient “fictitious” tomb as a reader you are sent on a journey that also follows the Book of Gates, which is within the Book of Coming Forth By Day or the Land of Two Ways. Some would call this the Book of the Dead, but since that wasn’t a term used until late in the nineteenth century I resisted the temptation to use it in my adventure that takes place in the year 1863.
The second book in the series, Treasure of the Emerald Isle, has been fascinating to research and I cannot wait until its release in 2016. It involves the mystery surrounding the great megalithic structures such as Stonehenge and Newgrange. Who built them and where and why did they go?

To view video trailer of Treasure of Egypt click here

No comments:

Post a Comment