A Taste of Evil by N. L. Holmes
The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour
A Taste of Evil by N. L. Holmes
Today on the blog, we go back in time with a murder in ancient Egypt in ‘A Taste of Evil’.
Years ago, when a careers adviser came to our school, I told them I wanted to be an Egyptologist, but I was told I wasn’t suited for it… that still annoys me, but it’s probably just as well, but it does show that even at 14 or 15, I was fascinated by this ancient world, and so I’m delighted we’ll be plunging back into such a magical time (and just take a look at the author bio below!).
I’ll be providing an excerpt, but first, what’s it about?
Book Description
In Tutankhamen's Egypt, the vizier's head cook dies suspiciously, and it looks like murder to Neferet and Bener-ib. Only, who would want to kill a cook, a man admired by all?
Perhaps he has professional rivals or a jealous wife. But she is the longtime cook of Neferet's family, a dear retainer above reproach. Was her husband the good man he seemed to be, or did he have the shady past our two sleuths begin to suspect?
They'd better find out soon before the waters of foreign conspiracy rise around Neferet and her diplomat father. If they can't find the killer, it could mean war with Egypt's enemy, Kheta - and someone else could die. Maybe one of our nosy sleuths... 😨🫨😱
The Excerpt (Number 3 if you’re following the book tour)
They leashed the puppies with a nub of rope the steward brought them and led the dogs, tumbling and frolicking, down the road toward the River from which they had come. The steward accompanied them to the bank, where a low, utilitarian-looking vessel of modest size had drawn up and lay rocking in the green water.
“Thank Lord Amen-nakhte for this,” said Neferet gratefully. “It saves us a long wait in the sun.”
“I’m sure he’s happy to do it for his old friend, my lady. My lord.” The steward bowed repeatedly as the little party clattered up the gangplank, puppies in their arms.
After the usual ritual of casting off anchors and pushing into the flow, the crew struck up their paddling rhythm, and the boat surged downstream toward the city. It was early afternoon, and there was little traffic on the River. Instead of standing at the gunwales, watching the scene unspool past them on the banks, the travelers crouched on the deck and played with the puppies. Just like human toddlers, the young dogs were uncoordinated, hyperactive, and prone to chewing on everything. They were an endless cause for merry laughter. As for Brute, he observed them with paternal tolerance.
All at once, a thud, a screech—and the boat gave a sideways lurch that threw everyone to the deck, reeling. Neferet, caught completely off-balance, fell flat on her face. Bener-ib screamed as she toppled over a coil of rope, and one of the puppies slid on its back across the deck, stopped only by the wickerwork of the gunwales. Mut-tuy scuttled after it and hugged the wildly squirming creature to her chest.
“What was that?” cried Neferet as she struggled to her hands and knees.
“I think we’ve struck something.” From his seat on the planking, Grandfather had fallen sideways, feet in the air, one sandal flying. He picked himself up gingerly and groped for his shoe.
“Mut the mother of us all!” Mut-tuy shouted. “That boat hit us!” She pointed, round-eyed, to starboard, where an elegant yacht crowded against the side of their own craft. They could hear the squeal of wet wood as the two hulls ground against one another.
Amen-nakhte’s captain ran to the gunwales, screaming and gesticulating at the other boat. It drew away a bit but maintained a parallel course. No one came to the side to shout excuses or see if there had been injuries aboard their victim. Neferet added her own imprecations to those of the captain, while the others secured the puppies.
“What were they thinking?” she exploded as Grandfather joined her at the rail. “They have all the room in the world. Why are they coming so close to us? We’re going to collide again.”
“I think that’s what they intend,” he murmured. “Look. They’re leaning into us.”
He hastily pulled Neferet away from the gunwales as the tall mass of the yacht bore down once more upon the slow little farm transport. The big boat’s long, carved prow slid over its victim with a shudder of boards and the sound of splintering. The smaller boat rose in the water and sank back with a splash. Screams of rowers caught between the hulls sent chills up Neferet’s neck.
“The turds are trying to sink us!”
“Are they pirates?” Bener-ib clutched at Neferet’s arm.
“So close to the city? I can hardly imagine it.” But what else could they be? Her stomach was in her throat. They were all going to have to jump ship and swim for shore. And what about the puppies?
Their boat was struggling to pull away from its aggressive fellow traveler. The steersman hung desperately upon one of the tall oars with all his weight while the captain stalked up and down in a frenzy, yelling orders, but the larger vessel crowded after it.
“Stay on the other side, girls, and be prepared to evacuate,” Grandfather said uneasily. “I think you’re right, Neferet. They’re trying to take us down.”
Bener-ib whimpered at Neferet’s side, her fingers digging into her partner’s arm, but she never released her grip on the cream-colored puppy pressed to her side with the other elbow. Another teeth-gritting screech resounded as the vessels collided once more. The cargo boat listed wildly, throwing everyone against the gunwales. One of the stone anchors skidded over the deck with bone-crushing momentum and crashed through the wickerwork barrier on the other side. The empty mast almost slapped the River before rising again abruptly. Water sloshed across the planking. The passengers slid and staggered. One of the sailors ran to cut the rope that held the anchor, which was weighing the boat down at a tilt.
“Don’t let go of the puppies!” Neferet shouted, grabbing at Brute’s collar. If we go under, they’ll drown, she thought in anguish. We’ll all probably drown.
The yacht drew forward, raking the side of the boat again as it passed. More ominous splintering resounded—and strangely, a distant yapping and baying. A couple of men had gathered at the rail of the yacht and stared down at the terrified passengers below them. Their expressions were grim.
Who, by all that’s holy, are these people who want to kill us?
Universal Buy Links:
Ebook: https://books2read.com/u/mlV2w7
Paperback: https://books2read.com/u/mYXjYW
Author Bio
N. L. Holmes Author
N.L. Holmes is the pen name of a professional archaeologist. She has excavated in Greece and in Israel and taught ancient history and humanities at the university level for many years. She has always had a passion for books, and in childhood, she and her cousin used to write stories for fun.
These days she lives in France with her husband, two cats, geese, and chickens, where she gardens, weaves, dances, and plays the violin.
Author Links:
Website: https://www.nlholmes.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nlholmesbooks
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/n-l-holmes/
Twitter: https://www.twitter/nlholmesbooks
Instagram: . https://www.instagram.com/n l.holmes/
Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nlholmes
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/nlholmesbooks/
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/N-L-Holmes/e/B0858H3K7S
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20117057.N_L_Holmes
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-l-holmes
All Author: https://allauthor.com/author/nlholmes/