Barbara’s books were always well researched on Egyptological and historical levels, as she remained an Egyptologist and scholar at heart. Although she never excavated in Egypt, she had visited more sites than many archaeologists. I particularly remember a bumpy ride to the rarely visited Abu Rawash, a site that Barbara had wanted to see for some time, as she was thinking of featuring it in a new book. When we got there, we carried out an almost total suspension of Barbara over the burial pit of the pyramid so that she could see what it looked like, and concluded with an Amelia-style picnic at the edge of the pyramid, in the mortuary temple. While traveling through Egypt, Barbara was happy to try anything (I had the privilege, all in the name of research, of introducing her to sheesha smoking), talk to anyone, and had a very real “feel” for the country and its archaeological sites. She knew the ins and outs of an excavation, having visited many and interrogated their directors, à la Amelia, about the techniques that they used. It is this intimate knowledge of Egypt and its sites that makes Amelia’s experiences so immediate for the reader. When she writes of crawling through bat guano, handling ancient bones, inspecting mummies, trudging through sand, or enjoying the cool north breeze on the Nile, it is because Barbara had experienced all of this firsthand. Luckily for us, Joan accompanied Barbara on one of her trips, thus she too has had a “taste of Egypt.”

Perhaps this intimacy with Egypt is why so many Egyptologists are devotees of the Amelia Peabody series. No other fiction author has spoken so directly and truly to us, skillfully blending historic fact with fiction, giving a very real sense of place, including in-jokes, all while telling a ripping tale. It is with great sadness that I bid farewell to the idea of enjoying any new adventures of the indomitable Amelia and Emerson, the “most brilliant archaeologist of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.” However, I find comfort in knowing that I have the old stories to return to, and, no doubt, even if they are not being chronicled as before, Amelia continues to contend with another ruined shirt as she and Emerson embark on fresh adventures.

Preface

Joan Hess

I met Barbara thirty years ago at a mystery convention, when I timidly approached her as a wide-eyed fan. We clicked because of a shared sense of humor (sardonic) and perspective (jaded), and became close friends over the years. She offered wisdom as I floundered through the publishing world. We laughed often, engaged in a lengthy exchange of weird presents involving sheep, and had weekend parties with our clever friends. She invited me to accompany her on one of her annual trips to Egypt, where she was revered by local shopkeepers and international Egyptologists. On the occasion of her eightieth birthday party, I rented a camel.