Tales of the legendary Tomb of the Djinn and its Guardian fascinated Ky Farrar since a visit to the Egyptian Museum in Cairo when he was a boy. The story of the star-crossed lovers and their battle to save ancient Egypt from the dark Djinn made him decide to become an archeologist. He believes he’s close to finding it. Only to discover the Tomb's Guardian is all too real, far closer than he expects - and she's as lovely as she is lethal.

He's also not the only one looking. It's a race against time to reach the Tomb before it can be opened, and what's imprisoned within is set loose on an unsuspecting world.

REVIEW

Wow...it's just an amazing book. I could see it as a movie in my mind...the book drew me in with the first chapter and instead of being in bed, I'm reading this - at least until my eyes give out and then I'll finish in the morning. Everything about it is just amazing. The characters are believable and draw you in until you feel as if you know them personally. A great read!

Reviewed by: Linda Eble Swain

EXCERPT

It had been a race then, to see which camel could run or be goaded faster against the fury of the storm.

Once again, Abdul won, his fingers clenched around the figurine of the little priestess as he heard the cry out of the darkness.
Still he couldn’t shake the idea he was still hunted. He could feel it.

Desperate, he raced into the first temple he found and threw himself on mercy of she who ruled there.

All he had to offer was the golden figurine of the priestess.

“Take it,” he said to one of the priests, thrusting it into his hands. “Take it as my offering to her, to Sekhmet.”
The Goddess of War.

Instead the priest looked toward the open door of the temple and his face grew grim and set. As one, he and the others backed away, disappeared into the shadowed depths of the temple.

Nearly weeping with terror, Abdul slowly turned.

Sand swirled through the entrance. Something stepped out of it.
He looked from the figure in his hand to the terrible one who stood in the doorway.

The Guardian of the Tomb.

They were the same.

His cry was first of sheer terror and then of a deep and horrifying ecstasy.

When silence came once again to Sekhmet’s temple, the priests and priestesses emerged.

All that remained of the old thief was a dry and empty husk.

The wind gusted and swept the temple clean.