Every year, professor of antiquities Jack Hawthorne looks forward to the winter break as a time to hide away from his responsibilities. Even if just for a week or two. But this year, his plans are derailed when he's offered almost a blank check from a man chasing a rumor.
Billionaire Gordon Reese thinks he knows where the bones of the prophet Elisha are--bones that in the Old Testament brought the dead back to life. A born skeptic, Jack doesn't think much of the assignment but he could use the money, so he takes the first step on a chase for the legendary bones that will take him to the very ends of the earth. But he's not alone. Joined with a fiery colleague, Esperanza Habilla, they soon discover clues to a shadowy organization whose long-held secrets have been protected . . . at all costs. As their lives are threatened again and again, the real race is to uncover the truth before those chasing them hunt them down.
The bones of the prophet once raised the dead to life... but they vanished from history in a whisper. Now Jack Hawthorne, part-time skeptic and full-time professor of archaeology, is enlisted to sift them from the sands of time. Bankrolled by a dying man of unlimited means, Hawthorne's hunt spans the globe and leads him into a deadly conspiracy older than the church itself. And he soon discovers those sworn to keep the secret of the bones will do anything to protect them.
Elisha’s Bone has it all, a mysterious organization stretching back through the ages, reluctant brainy hero, beautiful genius sidekick, wealthy good guys who might just be bad guys. This globe trotting novel spans globe as well as the centuries. It’s filled with action, adventure, mystery and intrigue. I should have loved it. Why I didn’t? That’s the mystery to me. These types of books are usually right up my alley.
I’ve always been an archaeology buff, love ancient history and a good action yarn is my favorite. But it took me a couple of weeks to get through this slim novel. I caught myself turning on the tv instead of reading the book. I would read the newspaper that was next to me instead of walk across the room and pick up the book. It wasn’t conscious avoidance, just a total lack of compulsion to read it. And really, there’s not a darn thing wrong with this book. I just couldn’t get into it. I’ve decided that I didn’t connect on any level with the protagonists of the novel. I don’t know if this is a problem with the character development or if it’s a problem that I had with the writing. I wish I could point to something in the book that seemed bad, pin my ennui on something within the pages, but I simply can’t. I suspect the book is quite a good read. It just wasn’t what my pointy lil brain was looking for at that time.