Amelia Peabody Series is Wrapped

Banned forever from the eastern end of the Valley of the Kings, eminent Egyptologist Radcliffe Emerson’s desperate attempt to regain digging rights backfires—and his dream of unearthing the tomb of the little-known king Tutankhamon is dashed. Now Emerson, his archaeologist wife, Amelia Peabody, and their family must watch from the sidelines as Lord Carnarvon and Howard Carter “discover” the greatest Egyptian treasure of all time.

But the Emersons’ own less impressive excavations are interrupted when father and son Ramses are lured into a trap by a strange group of villains ominously demanding answers to a question neither man comprehends. And it will fall to the ever-intrepid Amelia to protect her endangered family—and perhaps her nemesis as well—from a devastating truth hidden uncomfortably close to home . . . and from a nefarious plot that threatens the peace of the entire region.”

The day is over. The Amelia Peabody series is over. Or, at least, my journey reading them. I closed out and finished the final entry–per the proper timeline–Tomb of the Golden Bird. I can not say it was the best entry in the series, but it had all the fixings to be one with the opening of King Tut’s tomb. And for once, Amelia Peabody actually went into a tomb and explored. I stress this because it always frustrated me how Amelia was not also slipping into a tombs. Instead she often stayed outside and sifted through debris. Stuff like that, anyway. Though, of course, Amelia Peabody is so much more than all those things combined. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have stuck with reading the series for nine years.

Yet, outside of all the tomb exploration, the story wasn’t all that great. Peters does a great job of building suspense, but it’s not always sustainable throughout the middle of the book. It’s in the middle part where Peters rely on the vague and ambiguous use of plot points to push her story. By “vague and ambiguous” I mean she first tosses up many threads and characters. Then we have the death of outside characters that somehow tie to the mystery or sub-mystery or sub-sub-mystery dangling all over the place! Stalking shadow figures with no face nor name assault the cast over and over and over and over and over again as suspense tools. The repeated offense of disguising suspects in both looks and motives on top of motives tying to which running mystery thread out of a box of many is ever present in Golden Bird. Which mystery or sub-mystery does he or she fit in in this jungle gym of an Egyptian-themed mystery? 

Once again Peters reaches for something knotty that only lands… Well, Jenga, anyway?

So it’s all the same in Tomb of the Golden Bird. However, unfortunately, this led to a rather anticlimactic ending because she didn’t focus and reinforce the dangers and stakes involved. Shoot, I don’t even believe she was serious about anything in this entry. The remaining detangling sub-mystery threads ran out of steam and were revealed for the sole purpose of filler and diluting the core problem (murders surrounding Tut’s tomb) with ineffectual possibilities and just plain ole drama. Tomb of the Golden Bird was an example of an author funhousing readers.


Nevertheless, Sethos is Sethos (who I only like after he was ousted in the series). Ramses is Ramses. Nefret is Nefret (though not the old Nefret for good reason). Emerson is Emerson. Peabody is Peabody.

And… well that’s cool in itself. The core cast is what readers rely on. Them and their humous exchanges.

Regardless, I’m happy I’ve completed reading the series. It has been fun. I wish, wish Peters kept the focus of the story on King Tut’s tomb. But, no. Lots of compiling of various sub-plots made a water-weighted experience. However, I am grateful that Peters closed the book on a note that this was, in fact, the last adventure before the family headed back to England in January of 1923. 

So it felt complete by those means.


It’s over. But I’ll always have Amelia and company as friends.

Now the question is… when do I start making friends with THIS adventuress?


Almost at the End of the Amelia Peabody Experience


So I’m writing this post while listening to Eric Carmen’s “Hungry Eyes.” The song is befitting my mood–seeing as I’m trying to decide if I want to read the final Amelia Peabody mystery, Tomb of the Golden Bird. Because once this book is read, this will be the end of my journey reading Elizabeth Peters’ famous Victoria-era Egyptologist series. It’s been nine years since I cracked open the first book, The Crocodile on the Sandbank; 20 books later, my adventures with Peabody and crew are ending.

It’s more complicated than not, but Peters took many liberties in adjusting the timeframe in the series. The final two publication releases, A River in the Sky and The Paint Queen, officially close the series out at twenty books. However, per the precise timeline, the final book is Tomb of the Golden Bird. I corrected the order from books sixteen forward. Now I’ve landed at the series’ end and in proper sequence.

The problem is that, while I’ve decided to finally finish this series THIS year (I want to move on to reading Peters’ Vicky Bliss series next), I’m feeling some type of way about taking on the final book as it lies here in my hands.


So before we get into that, let me be the first to say that while I thought the series peaked in the ninth book (Seeing a Large Cat), the series hardly suffered moving forward. Mainly my difficulty came where, in the proceeding books, Peters leaned heavily on several formulaic methods to tell her stories. It was just that some books read like recycled stories. Especially surrounding Amelia Peabody’s son, Ramses, and his antics. Often times I would close a book and, despite enjoying the ride, not really gather the purpose of the book. Or I would ask myself what happened and why. Book after book tended to bleed together.

However, there are three books after book nine that I found stellar and memorable. One was the infamous “Nefret” book, The Falcon at the Portal. The second was the “children” book Children of the Storm (the action came back alive in this one and the villain was great!). Lastly, I can say a few days later, The Serpent on the Crown was an entertaining and pleasant addition to this list.

Call it where I am in life or not, but I found myself spending a day in bed reading 150 pages of Serpent because I couldn’t quite let it go. Not even Ramese’s portion of the storytelling got on my nerves. However, it was just as convoluted and contrived as many of the books after book nine. Yes, it touched on many recycled plot points and elements featured continuously in the series. Yes, the villain, as in most cases, was hardly a force of nature. Regardless of all that, Serpent was soooooo much fun, though! And it reminded me how the books are suppose to be fun, even as aggravating I sometimes find the storytelling bits. Oh, let me not forget to mention how I will say one glowing point was that Sethos (Amelia’s brother-in-law and Master of Disguise) was an absolutely JOY when he is not playing against the cast AS the Master of Disguise. His role in the series always (and I emphasis “always”) got on my nerves, until he finally came out and became a part of the main cast.


Nevertheless, I only have one more adventure yet. Should I read it while I’m hot? Let it cool and come back to my final Amelia Peabody adventure later this year?

Ah, I’m going to miss the series regardless.

Book Raiding Reading TBR

I only read two books in September.  One was–undoubtedly–the latest J. D. Robb release, Leverage in Death.  The other was Tracy Clark’s Broken Places–which I wrapped on the 11th of the month.  And that’s it.  Nothing read since the 11th.  And that’s mainly because Shadow of the Tomb Raider came out the following day and it has consumed my life.  Both in good–considering I’m a long-time fan and veteran of the Croft–and wrong ways.  Nonetheless, a game such as this pulled me entirely away from my first passion: books.  However, I’ve already read about 60 books this year, so I think it’s okay for me to take it easy from here on out if I choose to.

But I just can’t do it like that.  I have to read.  I MUST be reading.  I covet and crave books.  Even when I’m not actively reading a book, I’m pausing to touch a book and rifle through the pages just for comfort.

So I decided to make myself an Book Raiding TBR.  I choose unread books from my shelves that’ll cover 5 areas that I love most about the Tomb Raider series (both old and rebooted).  One: Crafty Female Lead.  Two: Sprinkles of Mythology.  Three: Survival Adventures.  Four: Ancient Musty Tombs.  Five: History and Relics.  This TBR will work.  And it will stick.  And it will bring me back to reading daily.

On a photography assignment in the northern territory of Mount Marsabit, American adventuress Jade del Cameron and her friends hope to film the area’s colossal elephants. Instead, they discover the mutilated remains of four elephants and a man. Although the authorities suspect Abyssinian poachers and raiders in search of ivory and slaves, Jade has her own suspicions. Could it have been Harry Hascombe, her nemesis and unremitting suitor? Soon the Kikuyu boy accompanying her is captured by slave traders. Ultimately, it will take all of Jade’s mettle to rescue her guide from slave traders, protect the animals, and expose another kind of beast.

As of today (October 1st) I’m already 140 pages away from the end of the first book on my Book Raiding TBR, Stalking Ivory by Suzanne Arruda.  Last time I read a book in this series was as far back as 2014.  More or less moved by that entry [Mark of the Lion], I haven’t picked up anything by this author since.  However, last year I did purchase the following three books for potential future reading.  And here I am finally jumping back into African safaris during the 1920’s with Arruda’s bold and sharp war vet (does being a nurse in WWI count as a vet?) turned photographer Jade Del Cameron.  Though Arruda’s plotting often comes across as “random” and “rash,” I’m having fun.  I can definitely see this series sticking around after all.


The rich and privileged have fled the city, barricaded it behind roadblocks, and left it to crumble. The inner city has had to rediscover old ways–farming, barter, herb lore. But now the monied need a harvest of bodies, and so they prey upon the helpless of the streets. With nowhere to turn, a young woman must open herself to ancient truths, eternal powers, and the tragic mystery surrounding her mother and grandmother. 

She must bargain with gods, and give birth to new legends.

Brown Girl in the Ring by Nalo Hopkinson was recommended to me years ago surrounding my love of science-fiction author Octavia Butler.  While over the years I never got around to reading Brown Girl; as recently as this year I did manage to find and read a copy of Hopkinson’s later offerings, Sister Mine.  And… well… I hated it.  And won’t apologize because it was a hot, unpleasant mess to get through.  And I’m not one to approve and praise a book just because “it’s what you’re supposed to do.”  I’ll keep that vague for those who don’t get it.  Nevertheless, although I was extra critical about my dissatisfaction in Sister Mine, I still wanted to give Hopkinson a proper go.  So I recently bought a copy of Brown Girl in the Ring on BookOutlet and, considering the book dances around making deals with gods, it’ll fit the mythology corner of my little TBR.

The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea by Yukio Mishima

Yukio Mishima’s The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With the Sea explores the vicious nature of youth that is sometimes mistaken for innocence.   

Thirteen-year-old Noboru is a member of a gang of highly philosophical teenage boys who reject the tenets of the adult world — to them, adult life is illusory, hypocritical, and sentimental. When Noboru’s widowed mother is romanced by Ryuji, a sailor, Noboru is thrilled. He idolizes this rugged man of the sea as a hero. But his admiration soon turns to hatred, as Ryuji forsakes life onboard the ship for marriage, rejecting everything Noboru holds sacred. Upset and appalled, he and his friends respond to this apparent betrayal with a terrible ferocity.

I fell in love with the forever tormented gay Japanese writer Yukio Mishima after reading Confessions of a Mask in 2015.  It was a fantastic meditative read on growing up gay in Japan with all cultural standards there to suffer through.  Yet, per my usual track record, it takes forever and a day for me to finally pick up another book by an author I love.  That aside, I’ve finally arrived at The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea.  I’m not 100% convinced this is precisely a “survival adventures” read.  I’ll have to sink into it to see if indeed it applies to this category of my TBR.  Buttttt I placed it on the list because the first Tomb Raider game in the rebooted series released in 2013 took place on an island off the sea of Japan.  BOOM.  I know how to make stuff work.

The Ape Who Guards the Balance (Amelia Peabody Mysteries #10) by Elizabeth Peters

The Ape Who Guards the Balance begins in 1907 in England where Amelia is attending a suffragettes’ rally outside the home of Mr. Geoffrey Romer of the House of Commons. It seems Romer is one of the few remaining private collectors of Egyptian antiquities, and a series of bizarre events at the protest soon embroil Amelia in grave personal danger. Suspecting that the Master Criminal, Sethos, is behind their problems, the Emerson Peabodys hasten to Egypt to continue their studies in the Valley of Kings where they soon acquire a papyrus of the Book of the Dead. As with past seasons, however, their archaeological expedition is interrupted. The murdered body of a woman is found in the Nile. Ramses, Radcliffe, and Amelia all have their theories as to the origin of the crime, but their own lives might soon be at stake if the cult of Thoth and their ancient book is, indeed, involved.

This series is on some rocky ground with me.  Very rocky ground.  While it’s beloved and all that jazz, I’ve come to find myself too annoyed with some of Peters’ characters.  Namely that of Amelia Peabody’s son, Ramses.  As well as her adopted daughter, Nefret.  I made a video speaking on the possibility of me canceling my reading of the series, but have yet to edit it down if I decide to complete the project.

Nevertheless, I started this book a year ago and got 13 pages into it.  Adding it to this TBR will be the test.  Continue the series?  Or allow it to go?  We’ll see.  That aside, I don’t think any Tomb Raider-themed TBR could do without a book featuring a murder mystery and characters romping around and through the ancient, musty tombs of Egypt.


From Babylon to Timbuktu: A History of the Ancient Black Races Including the Black Hebrews by Rudolph R. Windsor

This carefully reserched book is a significant addition to this vital foeld of knowledge. It sets forth, in fascinating detail, the history, from earliset recorded times, of the black races of the Middle East and Africa.

This unread pick I pulled off my shelf was a no-brainer.  Non-fiction (perhaps by category only).  History.  Relics of the past.  Information and knowledge.  A pretty interesting and self-explanatory title.  Need I say more?

Because these are pretty small reads, I’m sure I can fit more into October if I’m consistent in my daily reading (which is actually off to a good start).  So in the face of reading these too quickly or finding myself DNF’ing one, I’ve added a bonus section.  Hey, Tomb Raider games include bonus content, right?  Anyway, I won’t list what I have in mind as a BONUS but will add them to my CURRENTLY READING gadget on the blog.  A few books I have in mind is The Truth of Valor by Tanya Huff.  Wasteland of Flint by Thomas Harris.  The Eagle Catcher by Margaret Coel.  And the Scared Willow by Mai Elliot just to name a few.

Anyway, I enjoyed your company.  Please drop me a comment if you love or hate any of these books, or just to say hi.  I’m off to making me a cup of coffee and finishing Arruda’s Stalking Ivory while staying away from Tomb Raider and Raiding Books instead.

In the meantime, I’ve attached a gameplay video I recorded of me thoroughly enjoying Shadow of the Tomb Raider.

Elizabeth Peters' Laughing Mummy Case

By this book we’ve established that British socialite turn Egyptologist, Amelia Peabody, is a wife and mother.  A series told in her first-person narrative, it’s clear this life change is an adjustment of sorts.  Especially from the solitary life she led in the first book.  Now Amelia, her husband Radcliffe, and their four-year-old son heighten the thrill of her adventures.  As well as comedy.

As for the third book, The Mummy Case, Amelia’s infamous archaeologist and Egyptologist husband has been invited to a pyramid excavation.  Or, to be clear, he’s prompted dispatched to sniffle among the rubble of an abandoned excavation.  Somewhat at arms length, archaeologist in his profession never really wants him around.  He’s known as the “Father of Curses,” and is thus better left on the outskirts of any great discovery.  
Angered by this, Amelia’s husband decides to take on the “rubble” task anyway.  Gathering his wife and son, he ships his family out of England and into Egypt.  There may be nothing in and on this barren excavation handed to him, but he’ll make do to prove something to the rejecters of his talents as an archaeologist.  He has his pride and dignity after all, as well as a crew of shaky–but fiercely loyal–crewmen.  
But matters get choppy when his wife starts snooping around the crime scene of an antiques dealer she recently visited, for a scrap of papyrus.  Then an excavated Mummy case goes missing.  A suspicious Christian fellowship begins banning citizens together in the nearby village, but with their own secrets of abuse to hide.  An equally suspicious gang made up of Egyptian men are boiling for a fight to kick the fellowship out of their village.  And, eventually, Emerson, Amelia, and Ramses find themselves buried in the well of a pyramid.  While a killer runs loose covering his tracks.
Sounds like a lot, right?  Well, it’s an adventure that shouldn’t be missed!

Humor OVER Mystery
I don’t think anyone (once read) can deny how humorous Elizabeth Peters writes.  Particularly noticing how remarkable her dialogue is.  And that’s under spoken.  But whether it’s Amelia versus Emerson (which makes up the best pieces), Amelia versus Ramses, or Emerson versus whoever else; Peters writes some of the wittiest of banter that I’ve ever had the pleasure of indulging myself with.  While, of course, dropping the book to roll over in belly laughs.  Peters is probably tied with Martha Grimes in this arena, though Grimes‘ flair is a lot more contemporary.  Still, Peters gives the girls and boys of the land some of that old late, 19th century British aristocratic taste of shade.  But both writers serve it classy and icy.  
But Peters fills her characters’ dialogue (and Amelia’s exposition) with so much sub-text that, if you’re not attentive, it’ll fly right over your head.  Some of it is stronger than others–or corny versus superbly clever.  However, no character seemed to speak mis-directly in The Mummy Case.  Meaning, damn it all, there’s a purpose to every statement closed with a period, exclamation, or question delivered.  Whether you get it or not.
The book (and series) is pure Victorian era shadiness.  And you’ll be deciphering her sub-text as well as the clues and red herrings thrown your way via the mystery element.  Yet, her humorous characters and their wild circumstances will carry you through the up-and-down unfolding of the mystery.  Which, unfortunately, isn’t as memorable as Peters’ comedic scenes and wit.
Favorites
Amelia & Religion

“The sun rose higher and perspiration trickled down my back.  The singing went on and on, the same monotonous tune repeated interminably.  It was finally succeeded by the voice of Brother Ezekiel.  I could hear him quite well.  He prayed for the elect and for those still in the darkness of false belief (every inhabitant of the globe except the members of the Church of the Holy Jerusalem).  I thought he would never stop praying.  Eventually he did, and the congregation began to emerge.”

Amelia & Emerson

“I raised a hand to silence him, for John had returned, carrying a bowl of brussels sprouts and beaming like the sun over the pyramids of Giza.  ‘You have made your point, Emerson.  I confess that problem had not occured to me.’

“‘Had it not?’ The intensity of Emerson’s gaze increased.  ‘Perhaps I had better remind you, then.’

“And he did, later that evening, in a most effective manner.” 

********** 

“‘Oh, the usual thing, Peabody.  I don’t believe any of the men were directly involved in the robbery, but they must have been bribed to remain silent.  An object the size of that mummy case could not have been removed from the salon without waking someone.’

“‘Bribed–or intimidated?  I sense the sinister shadow of the Master Criminal, Emerson.  How far his evil web must stretch!’

“‘I warn you, Peabody, I will not be responsible if you go on talking of webs and shadows and Master Criminals.  This is a case of sordid, commonplace thievery.  It can have no connection–’

“‘Like a giant spider weaving his tangled strands into a net that snares rich and poor, guilty and innocent–’

“Emerson leaped onto his donkey and urged it into a trot.”

Amelia & Emerson & Ramses

“‘I examined dem carefully, Mama,’ Ramses said consolingly.  ‘De body was unclot’ed.  It had been dead for several days.  Dere were no marks upon it except for extensive bruising around de neck.  A rope tied tightly about dat part of de anatomy may have accounted for some of de contusions, but it is my opinion dat manual strangulation was de cause of deat’.’

“‘Very good, Ramses,’ I said.  ‘What steps have you taken, Emerson?’

“‘I have sent for the local chief of police.’

“‘Good.  If you will excuse me, I will go and change my clothes.’

“As I left I heard Ramses say, ‘May I remark, Papa, da alt’ough your consideration for my sensitivities was quite unnecessary, I am not wit’out a proper appreciation of de sentiment dat prompted it.'” 

#MarchMysteryMadness | Challenge #7: The Baggage Claims

2015 saw no indulgence in the late Elizabeth Peters’ infamous Amelia Peabody Egypt-romping mysteries.  A mild disappointment for an even better savory return.  You see, I was a little disheartened when I wrapped up Peters’ Jacqueline Kirby series last year (Naked No More post).  And I unsuccessfully turned over three bookstores for the first book in Peters’ Vicky Bliss series–to fill Kirby’s void.  And yet I’ve–for whatever reason–neglected Amelia Peabody all the while.  That’s kind of bad when it was her character who got me into Peters’ writing in the first place.  

If I confused someone, Peters wrote three individual series with three different female protagonists.  And each with an equally independent background.  And it’s the background these women peruse to solve their given mysteries.
Ex-librarian, Jacqueline Kirby, chain-smokes while delivering “innocent” snarks.  Yet, she has an observational majesty like no other.  Sometimes, I believe she knew the given culprit before the first page of her four adventures.
Vicky Bliss–from my researched understanding–is an eccentric blond who often isn’t taken seriously.  Until one takes into account her doctorate; she’s an art historian.  (I have yet to experience her character and how she performs in a mystery.  INSERT SAD FACE HERE.)
Then there’s Amelia Peabody, Peters’ most popular lead and long-standing series star.  Coming from an esteemed and wealthy Victorian family, Peabody is the sole heir to her deceased father’s fortune.  She uses her inheritance to flip between the high falutin Victorian life and hollow Egyptian tombs.  Her passions lie in Egyptology, and she’s the first to let the reader know all about her study.
So what do these three women of Peters’ have in common?  I mean, besides intelligence and the self-appointed credence to attach themselves to solving murders?  What makes a reader craze each of their individual stories?  
It’s their dry wit and humor, wrapped in murders and history.  But let’s picture “dry wit” so I can give an idea of what anyone new to Peters’ work could look forward to.  So, you ever criticize someone and have that individual laugh at the criticism because it goes far above his or her head to recognize the verbal stab?  That’s one display of dry wit.  Or have you ever slashed someone with sarcasm which slipped out as if it was a joke?  Only… you weren’t really joking.  That’s another.  Or, to just get down to the nitty-gritty, do you THROW SHADE without flinching?
Now granted–as I said–I haven’t read any of the Vicky Bliss mysteries.  However, I know Elizabeth Peters and I know why I love reading her books.  It’s because she writes these type of women characters; witty, strong-willed, hyper-intelligent, and courageous.
And that’s what I miss.  So I’m taking Challenge #7 to get back into Peabody’s humorous adventures.  Picking up where I left off with the third book in her series, The Mummy Case.

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Mystery Madness
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What the Love!

Elizabeth Peters’ has her most famous Egypt-trekking sleuth, Amelia Peabody. She has her chain-smoke ex-librarian, and my personal favorite, Jacqueline Kirby. Then she has this third sleuth I’ve never read named Vicky Bliss. Not quite sure what her hook is. Lastly, Peters has a number of stand-alones where she can continues to play with her writing, creativity, humor, and strong brushes of various oddball-ness.  It all coalesce into something right on the brim of thought-provoking, but only if you pay close attention.  I’ve long learned that an Elizabeth Peters book asks more from the reader than what’s at face value.  Her books may be humorous and eccentric, but there’s a darker commentary present that usually relays the ugly side of human behavior.  Though that commentary doesn’t take itself too seriously.

This is all evident in her stand-alone novel, The Love Talker. And it seems the topic of The Lover Talker revolves around Irish fairy lore. Nevertheless, let me back up just a second to run down what The Love Talker is about.


A student name Laurie is spending her winter in Chicago to write her dissertation. Not quite the quietest places for focus; Laurie appreciates the opportunity to borrow a friend’s apartment, as well as stay within close proximity of the local university’s “excellent” library. Then, of course, there’s a particular man she’s trying to avoid back home. However, sadly, Laurie can’t focus in Chicago. Like clockwork, she receives a letter from her family home. A home called Idlewood, deep in the Maryland forest. Her great-aunts and uncle sends for her and her half-brother, Doug, with suggestions of urgency. One aunt is coming close to senility, seeing fairies and lights in the surrounding forest. Having been away from the home since her childhood–and seeing how her dissertation isn’t coming along–Laurie decides to return to Idlewood.

At first, everything in Idlewood seems quiet. Then Laurie begins to see the lights and hear the music coming from the surrounding woods. Are her great-aunt’s claims of fairies real, even as she presents evidence? Or is something a little more fiendish, clever, and human out to torment Laurie’s aunt for his or her own selfish reasons.

So what exactly is a Love-Talker? According to Irish mythology, the Love-Talker, or gancanagh, is a male fairy known for trampling around freely through Irish countryside. Should a woman of any kind encounter him, she instantly falls under his spell-casting seductions. Under the belief that it’s love, these women end up killing themselves (many in fashions differ from physical suicide). If they can no longer connect with the Love-Talker, this “death” is the only option available to them. Think a lethal version of Laura Branigan’s “Fool’s Affair” song. Or not quite.

And that is exactly where I’m going to leave this post.  I’m not saying anything further, other than The Love Talker is Peters’s usual twisted, odd-churning mystery.  She reached a few lengths here that differ from my previous experiences with her, but I found The Love Talker interestingly enjoyable in the end.  There’s illegal affairs.  Ugly family secrets.  A man controlled by his religion.  A trio of elderly people blazing for humor and irritation.  And a trio of pre-pubescent sisters who vary in ages and personalities–some of which are a little more destructive than the other.  The whole while, you never know who to trust.  Sometimes I even thought Laurie was in on the gag, which would’ve been a blindside I would have no choice but to surrender to if it were true.  And that’s a good thing, because I didn’t quite grasp what Peters was up to.  I just knew it was something kooky.  With the catastrophic setting of snow surrounding an old mansion, it all could’ve went in multiple directions.  

If you decide to check this one out, then I’m going to keep this one a (vague) surprise.  Much like Peters does over and over again in her books.

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