When I finish a book by Elizabeth Louise Mertz, writing as Barbara Michaels, I feel a sense of fulfillment I find in very few other places in my world.
She writes to my soul. Just enough mystery and drama, not too much romance, but what is there is believable from my point of view, with a little touch of the supernatural that fits nicely within my own experiences. Everything could be explained rationally, but the doubt is richly embroidered along the edges.
I know I will not be disappointed, or depressed by the ending and I am never bored by her words that draw me so deeply into the story I feel more like a visitor than reader.
I have always been an avid reader, but I have never found any other author as satisfying as this one. At first I thought she was my age and that explained it all, but it turns out she is my father's age. She is from Canton, Illinois, a town slightly north of here, a town tied to me by several extended family members, but not her. She has a PhD in Egyptology from the University of Chicago, a subject that has always fascinated me, but there our similarities end. I am not even a fraction as educated and successful as she is. She is a prolific writer and imminently successful in several genres, including two books on ancient Egypt that have been continuously in print since they were published.
She is everything I ever aspired to be and more. Once I finish her Michael's books I will start on the Peter's ones and when I have read them all?
I cannot imagine what I will do after that. Her books have given me a vicarious reason to be that is one of the greatest gifts I could have found at this stage in my life.
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