Thursday, March 28, 2013

Goodreads "A gem of a novel"... ancient Egypt mythology, love and adventure

'The Egyptian Mythology Murders' Formerly 'The Isis Mummy'



Format:Kindle Edition|Amazon Verified Purchase
"Ever roamed the Egyptian Gallery at the British Museum and wondered 'what if...?'. Well, thank Mr. Pond for doing just that. This is the story of Isis, goddess of Magic. An original, beautifully crafted piece of history taken to the streets of modern day London. Will Isis find her Osiris, will they rule the new world? Find out in this gem of a novel, both entertaining and educational, made for wanting more!" - ABCme 

THE EGYPTIAN MYTHOLOGY MURDERS 

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

NEW. Egypt Easter Ereading on Kindle



NEW - the latest Anson Hunter adventure thriller

"A gem of a novel" (Goodreads) 
New. For younger readers (and old) - a dig for treasure among lost memories


The Anson Hunter series - now 6 in the Egypt adventure collection


See the Easter Egypt collection at Amazon Kindle

Friday, March 22, 2013

Also...Teen Ancient Egypt Adventure Fiction for a KIndle Christmas

Enthralling Egypt for young and young-hearted readers by Roy Pond. (For adult titles look under Roy Lester Pond)

SEE MY YOUNG ANCIENT EGYPT ADVENTURE FICTION AT AMAZON KINDLE

New

Thursday, March 21, 2013

'THE SMITING TEXTS' - the Egyptian archaeology adventure thriller that started it all...

A clash of superpowers... ancient Egypt and modern America (Paperback and Kindle)


'THE SMITING TEXTS' - the book that started the series
Meet the renegade Egyptologist, Anson Hunter

“Compellingly brought to life in modern day Egypt… The Smiting Texts is a fast paced adventure story that will pull you in and won’t let go, even after you turn the last page.

The Smiting Texts was a very enjoyable read which fans of Indiana Jones and the Stargate franchise would do well to dive into.
- Read Between The Lines

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Hathor, goddess of love and a terrifying entity

The Destroyer of Humankind
Hathor, in her form of Sekhmet-Hathor, the Destroyer of Humankind, features in two of my adventure thriller novels - The Smiting Texts and The Hathor Holocaust.
A terrifying entity.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Screen Grab - The Forbidden Glyphs

Adventure thriller about the forbidden Lost Library of Seshat


Out now on Kindle


See The Forbidden Glyphs on Amazon Kindle

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Meet The Archaeological Detective - adventure fiction series

Archaeology and detective work are sister professions to Anson Hunter

There is the same digging, interrogation of the facts and leaps of intuition...
But renegade Egyptologist Anson Hunter's investigations involve not only murder, but the uncovering of dangerous secrets from the ancient past as well as global conspiracies today.

Discover fiction's archaeological detective on Amazon Kindle (and paperback)

Readers praise the Egypt adventure fiction collection on Kindle....



“Compellingly brought to life in modern day Egypt… The Smiting Texts is a fast paced adventure story that will pull you in and won’t let go, even after you turn the last page.
The Smiting Texts was a very enjoyable read which fans of Indiana Jones and the Stargate franchise would do well to dive into.
- Read Between The Lines

***** 5 stars, Amazon
"I finished your book a few days ago and have the sequels in my hot little kindle. I loved the book you are such a great writer! It really fulfilled all my requirements for a great read. Your knowledge of Egypt is astounding" - Amazon reader

The Ibis Apocalypse 
5.0 out of 5 stars A pleasure to read. excellent!
The author takes you in a wander trip to ancient Egipt and in modern times to a good thriller.
Well written and wanting to read more...

Amazon Reader

Now there are 8 books in the Egypt range


Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Arrival of Seth, Egypt's force of chaos...Fiction excerpt





The crumpled helicopter lay in a field like a swatted dragonfly, rotor-wings broken, strutted limbs twisted and bulbous eyes of plexiglass smashed.
A single figure stepped out of the smoking wreckage, dressed in a surgical gown that was yellowed and fraying. Blood, thick and slow-oozing as lava, issued from a wound that had opened up below the red hair of the survivor’s forehead to expose an area of ancient, yellowed skull, adding to the gaping and decaying lesions in his face that revealed bone beneath.
He looked down at his feet and saw the blackening, necrotic flesh and bones.
I will need clothes to cover me.
He walked around the wreckage, dazed.
The medical team and the pilot were all dead it seemed.
The pilot’s door was gone and the man lay slouched sideways in his harness as if taking a view of the ground no more than a metre from the tinted visor of his helmet.
I will need the helmet to cover my hideousness, he thought.
The pilot gave a moan.
Still a spark of life?
The survivor took the helmet in both hands. He gave it a sharp twist.
The shiny black dome deadened the crack as the neck snapped.
He undid the helmet and ripped it off the pilot’s head to reveal a blighted, deeply aged face. The same blight of senility had struck the medical crew, leaving them hanging in their harnesses.
He put the helmet on over his own head, and caught a whiff of his own decay inside the enclosed hemisphere, still warm from the pilot’s occupation. He tugged the strap under the chin, but the strap had perished and it gave. It crumbled in his fingers. He tore it away, along with the attached microphone.
Next he hauled the pilot out onto the grass and took his overalls and black leather jacket. The suit was made of tougher material and still held together, he was relieved to see as he pulled it on, although the zipper jammed as he tugged it up under his chin. He added the pilot’s jacket and the gloves and flight boots.
He pulled down the shaded visor and turned a final glance at the wreck. The helicopter, a gleaming new ECI45, had taken off a few hours earlier from Tubingen in Germany. Now severe metal fatigue had opened up splits like lightning cracks in the buckled fuselage and in the rusty, twisted rotors.
Chaos, entropy, dissolution had once again followed in his wake, the survivor thought.
The relentless process had begun soon after his whirlwind growth to manhood whereupon he had suddenly, inexplicably, begun to degenerate.
He had heard whispers around his bedside and around his life in that clinical white and glass fortress in the hills of Germany.
They whispered about his rare DNA, 5000 years old, mysteriously acquired from remains uncovered in Egypt amid the chaos of its revolution. About next-generation sequencing and in-vitro fertilization and his birth to a young surrogate who had died of sudden-onset senility and about his violent childbirth and where he had ‘torn himself from his mother’s womb’ like the ancient god of chaos Seth of Egyptian mythology.
He had gathered knowledge prodigiously about the modern world in his meteoric growth to manhood, some gained from books, some from the Internet and television, but most of all from a kind of effortless channelling and certitude regarding events and history beyond his experience that he could only describe as a dawning omniscience.
My name is Seth, he told them.
They called him Tubingen Man.
As a compromise he came to be known as Seth Tubingen.
He knew what was happening to him.
The attempt to resurrect his ancient DNA had gone terribly wrong and his body was following a steep parabola from generation to decay, regressing to a mummified state. Perhaps they should have expected such a result, using the DNA building blocks of an entity known as the ‘Lord of Chaos’?
The Egyptians called Seth ‘the rotten faced one’ but this rot was catastrophic.
The medical team in the clinic wondered if he had developed some unknown strain of late-onset progeria and was aging rapidly and prematurely.
Their alarm grew when lesions appeared in his face and body and signs of necrosis appeared like a black death of his feet and hands.
They tried a cocktail of drugs to stop the process until finally, in desperation, they took the decision to send him to London for treatment by one of the world’s specialist experts on progeria, as a last throw of the dice.
But they were wrong about his degrading body.
He had heard a nurse in a corridor crack a joke about his condition: “You know the movie The Mummy Returns?” she whispered. “Well it’s returning in his body!”
She had unknowingly hit upon the truth.
His body was in cellular chaos and just as his body degenerated so did the world around him. Monitoring machines broke down. Light bulbs flickered and died. His sheets and surgical gowns yellowed and frayed. The hospital bed rusted. Flowers in a vase withered.
Then it began to hit the clinic staff. At first it showed in a slowing down of their movements, a hazing of the eyes then the first pallor of old age descending on them, then clumsiness and forgetfulness.
The clinic building kept blacking out.
He knew that by the time his body degraded to a mummied state – the chaos and contagion he spread would be impossible to stop.
Yet before that time he must complete a pre-ordained cycle.
The fates had brought him to this point for a reason. His enemy Osiris was here in this island land, far away from Egypt across the great green. How that could be possible, he did not know yet, but Osiris must be here, that much he knew.
And with that certainty came an imperative.
He knew what he had to do. The pattern must be made. The cycle must be completed. He must find Osiris, murder him and hack his body into pieces, just as he had done before in ancient days.
Then, perhaps, the terrible cycle could end.
He set off across a field.
Daisies withered, collapsing like dying white stars as he passed, and singing birds fell silent in the trees. Something dropped out of a tree at his feet with a muffled thud.
It was a dead black crow, its beak wide open in a silent caw. He kicked it carelessly.
The Lord of Chaos and Dissolution was on the move through the English countryside.
Osiris, where are you?
Can he be far?
I must just keep moving, guided by an unseen compass needle of an ancient, previously-enacted cycle of mythology. 

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

'A Museum is a dangerous place...' (The Hathor Holocaust)


British Museum

‘A MUSEUM is a dangerous place.’
Sir Flinders Petrie, pioneer British Egyptologist, first said those words, but today Anson was thinking them.
A man had followed him to the British Museum.
Who was he?
Petrie had been thinking about another kind of danger when he’d made his famous remark about the dangers of museums. The founder of modern scientific Egyptology had been alluding to the manner in which the early Cairo museum had dealt with a royal mummy fragment found at Abydos, a single, bandaged arm, covered in jewels, the only remains of First Dynasty king Zer.
The curators took the jewels and tossed the arm way, the earliest royal mummy remains ever to come to light. It was a mummy horror story to eclipse any devised by the most febrile imagination, Anson had always thought, but right at that moment his mind was on the other worry.
Anson went up the steps and between the Ionic-style columns into the building. He passed through a crowded reception hall to arrive in the Great Court beyond.
Above the court, a tessellated glass and steel roof spread out overhead like a vast, glowing net, catching clouds, blue sky and a spirit of illumination, while the round, central building swelled like an ivory tower of learning. He crossed the clean bright space before heading left to the door of the Egyptian section.

(excerpt from The Hathor Holocaust)

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Invaders behind golden masks of Egyptian gods and goddesses...

The Anubis Intervention

Invaders, their faces hidden behind golden masks of Egyptian gods and goddesses, ran into the boat's dining room firing shots into the air. 
   The exploding crystal chandeliers sprayed the guests with shards of razor-edged light.
   The chandeliers swung and so did the crowd on the edge of panic. There were yells, screams and shouts of confusion. Some wiped at blood that had sprung up like blooms on bare arms, bosoms and faces. 
   Others jumped from their tables, ready to stampede the exits, but another hammer-burst of gunfire overhead, followed by the booming instruction of a voice, sent them back.
   "Sit, immediately. The evening's entertainment has just begun." 
    An attacker with a jackal-dog mask and a gold and black striped nemes headdress came forward on the stage. The canine’s head and muzzle gave his voice a magnified, sound box rumble...

Friday, March 1, 2013

'Enigmatic Egypt' fiction adventure series... download the set

Get set for adventure, archaeology and dangers from the ancient past

And the latest