The Dubai Desert, 1926:
“How much farther?” Rachel spit the desert sand back into the pelting wind. The constant shifting of the saddle chaffed her thighs. Her camel ambled forward, oblivious to her discomfort. Its breath was horrid and the camel farted. Often.
John peered through his binoculars. “We should be coming up on the site soon. We made excellent progress on the dig before the sandstorms necessitated our return to the village. But now we can finish what we started. How’s the girl holding up?”
Rachel glanced behind her at Isra. The 17-year-old sat comfortably on her camel, amazed at the seemingly endless, selcouth desert. Isra had never been this far from her village and the vastness of the desert astonished her. “Better than me,” Rachel replied. She wanted to wash the sultry desert from her skin and longed for the bathtub she had left behind in the village, realizing it would be at least three months before their return.
“There it is!” John pointed ahead toward the partially excavated ruins. The four Arab men the archaeologist had hired for the mission rode ahead to set up camp. “It’s just as we left it. If we can find a way into the crypt beneath the ruins, I’ll bet we could fill an entire wing of the British Museum with the artifacts we recover.”
The Vampires & Werewolves You Only Think You Know!
Fangs & Fur, Book One: Flashbacks