By Killian McRae
The single strategy to shop the longer term is to decode the previous. the one approach to decode the prior is to avoid wasting the future.
Archaeologist Sheppard Smyth has staked his profession and the honorable reminiscence of his spouse and companion on proving his greatly panned thought: Cleopatra VII, the final sovereign pharaoh of Egypt, was once no longer a sufferer of suicide as heritage indicates, yet of a well-concealed homicide. while a statue of the doomed Queen is unearthed in a pre-Columbian excavation website in Mexico, Shep rushes to enquire and, expectantly, locate the evidence that has avoided him for thus lengthy. The statue, even though, is simply the 1st clue suggesting a mysterious connection among Mesopotamia and Mesoamerica, and probably - past. unexpectedly thrust into the heated competition among attractive and enigmatic antiquities thief Victoria Kent and the notorious Russian mafioso Dmitri Kronastia, Shep reveals himself a typical pawn performed via forces operating to work out out a quest older than the pyramids and cloaked within the Mayan Doomsday prophecy of 12.21.12.
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His mind was struggling to comprehend its significance. True, it could all turn out to be fraud; only he didn’t expect someone of Hector’s caliber to become involved in such a fiasco. The scientist in him was screaming that this couldn’t be real—the explanation may be hard to grasp, yet it had to be there—but the little boy who had dug up arrow heads in his Oklahoma backyard was bristling with anticipation. Hector broke into his train of thought. ” He nodded his acknowledgement. “I think so,” he said as he rubbed his eyes, becoming aware in the process of the greasy film on his face and the grime only international travel seems to induce.
He felt a little uneasy as he took off his shirt and set it aside. If Victoria awoke and found him bare-chested, would she think it indecent? Too tired to contemplate decency at the moment, however, he looked over his naked shoulder to see if she had stirred from the sound of his movements. She hadn’t, but she had turned onto her side, and the lapel of her shirt, top two unbuttons unused, fell slightly, giving Shep an intriguing glance at her cleavage. His breath caught as she gave a monstrous yawn, causing her chest to heave.
Smyth. I’m actually from not too far from here. I come back from time to time, but I’ve spent much of my life abroad. ” “And how did you become interested in the Olmec? ” “True enough. But my interests have always varied. ” “Yes, you must be one of the Veracruz Kents,” Shep laughed. “Not a very Latin-sounding name, Kent. ” “Keep a secret, Dr. ” She leaned over, a conspiratorial look meeting his. Shep mirrored her movements, bringing his face within inches of hers. She licked her lips…her lips…and he couldn’t help but wonder if they were as soft as they looked.
12.21.12 by Killian McRae