Alicia Trent again draws on loyal friends to help solve a convoluted mystery. Professors are dying at the upstate New York college where she and Laudine are spending a semester. The venerable campus buildings, riddled with secrets, once comprised a monastery. The collection Alicia has come to catalog consists of items associated with death and mourning. Why anyone would choose to collect these items seems strange to Ali, and she hopes to discover the reason behind the choice. She and Laudine have both been hired to do a job, but they can’t ignore the fact that fellow staff members are dying. Ali’s special tool, the three-tiered bottle, tries to help, but as usual the information is cryptic and disjointed. While working and attending classes on a college campus like no other, they hunt for clues while interacting with an unusual cast of characters whom they must decide if they can trust.
Read an Excerpt from Antique Mourning
I was about halfway through the quad at almost the exact same spot as the last time when I heard the
scream. I knew it wasn't a squeal of delight this time. There was real fear in the sound. I ran, but when I
broke through the hedge surrounding the garden I was afraid I was going to be too late. Two men were
fighting, one wearing a ski mask. A woman I assumed had screamed was standing nearby. As I ran, the
man in the ski mask knocked the other to the ground and pushed the woman on top of the first. I could
see a large knife in his hand. I was terrified he would kill them both before I could get there, so I hollered for him to stop and pushed for more speed. My yell alerted him to my presence. He looked at me, and I could see him deciding whether to wait for me to arrive so he could attack or to make a run for it. His decision was quickly made, and he darted off toward a heavily-wooded area beside one of the classroom buildings. He wasn’t moving very fast--his recent fight might have slowed him down. I again demanded more speed from my body and caught up as we entered the woods. I hit him several times with the heavy flashlight but only managed to connect with his shoulder. I was surprised when he dropped down on one knee. I moved in to hit him one last time to knock him unconscious. When I got close, he reached out and yanked my legs out from under me. I didn’t have time to prepare for the fall, and my landing was accompanied by instant pain down my left side. I saw the attacker once again running off into the trees. I tried to get up but couldn't force my body to rise.
About the Author:
Eileen Harris likes to move and has tried many different areas of the U.S. Right now she is living in the Deep South but believes another move is in her future. Her writing may be set anywhere from upstate New York to the Arizona desert, or anywhere in-between. She writes when a book comes along asking to be written. The rest of the time she spends taking advantage of the opportunities and delights of her current locale.
Other Titles by the Author:
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