Reviews

I have a deep love for Elizabeth Peters’ Amelia Peabody and Vicky Bliss mysteries, counting them among my very favorites and formative of a lot of my tastes and expectations in the genre. I’ve mostly avoided her writing as Barbara Michaels, however, finding those books mostly humorless and overly dramatic. When this posthumous collection of short stories appeared, I was definitely interested, but wary. Would these be overlooked gems? Tight, tense versions of what I loved about her longer writing? Or a way of making a quick buck by splashing her name over a vaguely Egyptian-themed cover? Well, I’m sorry to say that these three stories are mostly forgettable and indulgent, certainly not works that would be considered essential without Elizabeth Peters’ name on them. The first is a wild, id-tastic story of a mystery writer/PI who discovers a body in her house, stabbed through the back with her wickedly dangerous vintage hat pin. A few short pages later, it’s all over, after a lot of pseudo-noir narration about local corruption, smoking of cigarettes, and eating of chocolate bars (that part, I appreciated.) My description is probably all you ever need to know about it. Next up is a very on-brand mystery set in ancient Egypt with a detective named Amenhotep (based on a real historical figure) and glimpse into Egyptian funerary practices. Different and almost entirely too brief to leave any impression, I enjoyed this one the most. Last, is a very seasonal (I’m reading and writing this in October) story of two runaway sisters, a creepy abandoned house, and the boy they meet while waiting out a thunderstorm. Anyone with an ounce of genre-savvy knows where that one was headed. In summary, these stories are for completists only. (Re)read the Amelia Peabody or Vicky Bliss books instead. (Oooh, I think I will…)

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