Cross Bones (Temperance Brennan Series #8)

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"When an Orthodox Jewish man is found shot to death in Montreal, Temperance Brennan is called in to examine the body and to figure out the puzzling damage to the corpse. Unexpectedly, a stranger slips her a photograph of a skeleton and assures her it is the key to the victim's death. Before she knows it, Tempe is involved in an international mystery as old as Jesus, and one that could lead to the rewriting of two thousand years of religious history." "As Tempe investigates, she learns that the stranger's picture shows bones uncovered during an
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Cross Bones (Temperance Brennan Series #8)

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Overview

"When an Orthodox Jewish man is found shot to death in Montreal, Temperance Brennan is called in to examine the body and to figure out the puzzling damage to the corpse. Unexpectedly, a stranger slips her a photograph of a skeleton and assures her it is the key to the victim's death. Before she knows it, Tempe is involved in an international mystery as old as Jesus, and one that could lead to the rewriting of two thousand years of religious history." "As Tempe investigates, she learns that the stranger's picture shows bones uncovered during an archaeological dig. She discovers the Montreal shooting victim ran an import business that just might have been a front for the trading of black market antiquities. Along with Detective Andrew Ryan and biblical archaeologist Jake Drum, Tempe travels to Israel to probe the origins of the skeleton and the ancient crypt in which it was found. Together they make a startling discovery that raises radical questions about Christ's death and places them squarely in the middle of a swirling controversy. Could one of the tombs really be Christ's last resting place? Are the bones in the ancient ossuary the last remains of James, the brother of Jesus, as the inscription claims? Or has someone concocted an elaborate hoax?" Using her skills as a forensic scientist, Tempe plunges into the most controversial case of her career. The stakes have never been higher - the more she learns, the greater the danger. And though Ryan is sexier and more engaging than ever, he may not be able to protect Tempe in this place where there seem to be so many foes.
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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Forensic anthropologist Dr. Temperance "Tempe" Brennan gets caught in mysteries past and present when she's called in to determine if illegal antiquities dealer Avram Ferris's gunshot death is murder or suicide. An acquaintance of Avram suggests the former: he hands Tempe a photograph of a skeleton, taken in Israel in 1963, and insists it's the reason Avram is dead. Tempe's longtime boyfriend, Quebecois detective Andrew Ryan, is also involved with the case, so the duo head to Israel where they attempt to solve the murder and a mystery revolving around a first-century tomb that may contain the remains of the family of Jesus Christ. This find threatens the worldwide Christian community, the Israeli and Jewish hierarchy and numerous illegal antiquity dealers, any of whom might be out to kill Tempe and Ryan. Not that Tempe notices. She has the habit of being oblivious to danger, which quickly becomes annoying, as does Reichs's tendency to end chapters with a heavy-handed cliffhanger ("His next words sent ice up my spine"). The plot is based on a number of real-life anthropological mysteries, and fans of such will have a good time, though thriller readers looking for chills and kills may not find the novel quite as satisfying. Agent, Jennifer Rudolph Walsh. (June) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
Tempe Brenner gets mixed up in historical and international intrigue in Reich's latest book featuring the forensic anthropologist (see also Monday Mourning). Tempe, stationed in Quebec, is assigned to participate in an autopsy on a Hasidic Jew who was found shot to death in a warehouse closet. At the autopsy, a stranger hands her a photo of an ancient skeleton as an explanation for the victim's death. An investigation suggests that the skeleton may be the remains of an individual who died at Massada, a mountain near Jerusalem where a famous battle between the Zealots and the Romans took place in 73 C.E. Tempe and Detective Andrew Ryan travel to Israel to question the main suspect in the murder investigation, and while there, Tempe meets with a colleague who may have stumbled across the Jesus family tomb. What do "Massada Max" and the bodies in the family tomb have in common? Will Tempe's discovery shake the foundations of the three major world religions? Reichs devotes too much time at the novel's beginning to technical details, but those who wait out the first few chapters will be pleased by the engrossing story that follows. Recommended for all public libraries. [See Prepub Alert, LJ 2/1/05.]-Nanci Milone Hill, Cary Memorial Lib., Lexington, MA Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
From the Publisher
"A riveting thriller."

Charlotte Observer (NC)

"Fans of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation should be in heaven."

People

"A spirited rival to The Da Vinci Code...Reichs is in top form."

Sunday Times (London)

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781597220088
  • Publisher: Gale Group
  • Publication date: 8/2/2005
  • Series: Temperance Brennan Series , #8
  • Edition description: Large Print
  • Pages: 591
  • Product dimensions: 5.60 (w) x 8.60 (h) x 1.30 (d)

Meet the Author

Kathy Reichs

Kathy Reichs, like her character Temperance Brennan, is a forensic anthropologist, formerly for the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in North Carolina and currently for the Laboratoire de sciences judiciaires et de médecine légale for the province of Quebec. Reichs’s first book, Déjà Dead, catapulted her to fame when it became a New York Times bestseller and won the 1997 Ellis Award for Best First Novel. Her latest Temperance Brennan novel, Bones Are Forever, was an instant New York Times bestseller. Her website is KathyReichs.com.

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    1. Also Known As:
      Kathleen J. Reichs (full name)
    2. Hometown:
      Charlotte, North Carolina and Montreal, Québec
    1. Education:
      B.A., American University, 1971; M.A., Ph.D., Northwestern University
    2. Website:

Read an Excerpt

Cross Bones


By Kathy Reichs

Scribner

Copyright © 2005 Temperance Brennan, L.P.
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0-7432-3348-4


Chapter One

Following an Easter dinner of ham, peas, and creamed potatoes, Charles "Le Cowboy" Bellemare pinched a twenty from his sister, drove to a crack house in Verdun, and vanished.

That summer the crack house was sold up-market. That winter the new homeowners grew frustrated with the draw in their fireplace. On Monday, February seventh, the man of the house opened the flue and thrust upward with a rake handle. A desiccated leg tumbled into the ash bed.

Papa called the cops. The cops called the fire department and the Bureau du coroner. The coroner called our forensics lab. Pelletier caught the case.

Pelletier and two morgue techs were standing on the lawn within an hour of the leg drop. To say the scene was confused would be like saying D-day was hectic. Outraged father. Hysterical mother. Overwrought kids. Mesmerized neighbors. Annoyed cops. Mystified firefighters.

Dr. Jean Pelletier is the most senior of the five pathologists at the Laboratoire de sciences judiciaires et de médecine légale, Quebec's central crime and medico-legal lab. He's got bad joints and bad dentures, and zero tolerance for anything or anyone that wastes his time. Pelletier took one look and ordered a wrecking ball.

The exterior wall of the chimney was pulverized. A well-smoked corpse was extracted, strapped to a gurney, and transported to our lab. The next day Pelletier eyeballed the remains and said, "ossements." Bones.

Enter I, Dr. Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist for North Carolina and Quebec. La Belle Province and Dixie? Long story, starting with a faculty swap between my home university, UNC-Charlotte, and McGill. When the exchange year ended, I headed south, but continued consulting for the lab in Montreal. A decade later, I'm still commuting, and lay claim to the mother lode of frequent flyer miles.

Pelletier's demande d'expertise en anthropologie was on my desk when I arrived in Montreal for my February rotation.

It was now Wednesday, February 16, and the chimney bones formed a complete skeleton on my worktable. Though the victim hadn't been a believer in regular checkups, eliminating dental records as an option, all skeletal indicators fit Bellemare. Age, sex, race, and height estimates, along with surgical pins in the right fibula and tibia, told me I was looking at the long-lost Cowboy.

Other than a hairline fracture of the cranial base, probably caused by the unplanned chimney dive, I'd found no evidence of trauma.

I was pondering how and why a man goes up on a roof and falls down the chimney, when the phone rang.

"It seems I need your assistance, Temperance." Only Pierre LaManche called me by my full name, hitting hard on the last syllable, and rhyming it with "sconce" instead of "fence." LaManche had assigned himself a cadaver that I suspected might present decomposition issues.

"Advanced putrefaction?"

"Oui." My boss paused. "And other complicating factors."

"Complicating factors?"

"Cats."

Oh, boy.

"I'll be right down."

After saving the Bellemare report on disk, I left my lab, passed through the glass doors separating the medico-legal section from the rest of the floor, turned into a side corridor, and pushed a button beside a solitary elevator. Accessible only through the two secure levels comprising the LSJML, and through the coroner's office below on eleven, this lift had a single destination: the morgue.

Descending to the basement, I reviewed what I'd learned at that morning's staff meeting.

Avram Ferris, a fifty-six-year-old Orthodox Jew, had gone missing a week earlier. Ferris's body had been discovered late yesterday in a storage closet on the upper floor of his place of business. No signs of a break-in. No signs of a struggle. Employee said he'd been acting odd. Death by self-inflicted gunshot wound was the on-scene assessment. The man's family was adamant in its rejection of suicide as an explanation.

The coroner had ordered an autopsy. Ferris's relatives and rabbi had objected. Negotiations had been heated.

I was about to see the compromise that had been reached.

And the handiwork of the cats.

From the elevator, I turned left, then right toward the morgue. Nearing the outer door to the autopsy wing, I heard sounds drifting from the family room, a forlorn little chamber reserved for those called upon to identify the dead.

Soft sobbing. A female voice.

I pictured the bleak little space with its plastic plants and plastic chairs and discreetly curtained window, and felt the usual ache. We did no hospital autopsies at the LSJML. No end-stage liver disease. No pancreatic cancer. We were scripted for murder, suicide, accidental and sudden and unexpected death. The family room held those just ambushed by the unthinkable and unforeseen. Their grief never failed to touch me.

Pulling open a bright blue door, I proceeded down a narrow corridor, passing computer stations, drying racks, and stainless steel carts on my right, more blue doors on my left, each labeled salle d'autopsie. At the fourth door, I took a deep breath and entered.

Along with the skeletal, I get the burned, the mummified, the mutilated, and the decomposed. My job is to restore the identity death has erased. I frequently use room four since it is outfitted with special ventilation. This morning the system was barely keeping up with the odor of decay.

Some autopsies play to an empty house. Some pack them in. Despite the stench, Avram Ferris's postmortem was standing room only.

LaManche. His autopsy tech, Lisa. A police photographer. Two uniforms. A Sûrété du Québec detective I didn't know. Tall guy, freckled, and paler than tofu.

An SQ detective I did know. Well. Andrew Ryan. Six-two. Sandy hair. Viking blue eyes.

We nodded to each other. Ryan the cop. Tempe the anthropologist.

If the official players weren't crowd enough, four outsiders formed a shoulder-to-shoulder wall of disapproval at the foot of the corpse.

I did a quick scan. All male. Two midfifties, two maybe closing out their sixties. Dark hair. Glasses. Beards. Black suits. Yarmulkes.

The wall regarded me with appraising eyes. Eight hands stayed clasped behind four rigid backs.

LaManche lowered his mask and introduced me to the quartet of observers.

"Given the condition of Mr. Ferris's body, an anthropologist is needed."

Four puzzled looks.

"Dr. Brennan's expertise is skeletal anatomy." LaManche spoke English. "She is fully aware of your special needs."

Other than careful collection of all blood and tissue, I hadn't a clue of their special needs.

"I'm very sorry for your loss," I said, pressing my clipboard to my chest.

Four somber nods.

Their loss lay at center stage, plastic sheeting stretched between his body and the stainless steel. More sheeting had been spread on the floor below and around the table. Empty tubs, jars, and vials sat ready on a rolling cart.

The body had been stripped and washed, but no incision had been made. Two paper bags lay flattened on the counter. I assumed LaManche had completed his external exam, including tests for gunpowder and other trace evidence on Ferris's hands.

Eight eyes tracked me as I crossed to the deceased. Observer number four reclasped his hands in front of his genitals.

Avram Ferris didn't look like he'd died last week. He looked like he'd died during the Clinton years. His eyes were black, his tongue purple, his skin mottled olive and eggplant. His gut was distended, his scrotum ballooned to the size of beach balls.

I looked to Ryan for an explanation.

"Temperature in the closet was pushing ninety-two," he said.

"Why so hot?"

"We figure one of the cats brushed the thermostat," Ryan said.

I did a quick calculation. Ninety-two Fahrenheit. About thirty-five Celsius. No wonder Ferris was setting a land record for decomposition.

But heat had been just one of this gentleman's problems.

When hungry, the most docile among us grow cranky. When starved, we grow desperate. Id overrides ethics. We eat. We survive. That common instinct drives herd animals, predators, wagon trains, and soccer teams.

Even Fido and Fluffy go vulture.

Avram Ferris had made the mistake of punching out while trapped with two domestic shorthairs and a Siamese.

And a short supply of Friskies.

I moved around the table.

Ferris's left temporal and parietal bones were oddly splayed. Though I couldn't see the occipital, it was obvious the back of his head had taken a hit.

Pulling on gloves, I wedged two fingers under the skull and palpated. The bone yielded like sludge. Only scalp tissue was keeping the flip side together.

I eased the head down and examined the face.

It was difficult to imagine what Ferris had looked like in life. His left cheek was macerated. Tooth marks scored the underlying bone, and fragments glistened opalescent in the angry red stew.

Though swollen and marbled, Ferris's face was largely intact on the right.

I straightened, considered the patterning of the mutilation. Despite the heat and the smell of putrefaction, the cats hadn't ventured to the right of Ferris's nose or south to the rest of the body.

I understood why LaManche needed me.

"There was an open wound on the left side of the face?" I asked him.

"Oui. And another at the back of the skull. The putrefaction and scavenging make it impossible to determine bullet trajectory."

"I'll need a full set of cranial X-rays," I said to Lisa.

"Orientation?"

"All angles. And I'll need the skull."

"Impossible." Observer four again came alive. "We have an agreement."

LaManche raised a gloved hand. "I have the responsibility to determine the truth in this matter."

"You gave your word there would be no retention of specimens." Though the man's face was the color of oatmeal, a pink bud was mushrooming on each of his cheeks.

"Unless absolutely unavoidable." LaManche was all reason.

Observer four turned to the man on his left. Observer three raised his chin and gazed down through lowered lids.

"Let him speak." Unruffled. The rabbi counseling patience.

LaManche turned to me.

"Dr. Brennan, proceed with your analysis, leaving the skull and all untraumatized bone in place."

"Dr. LaManche -"

"If that proves unworkable, resume normal protocol."

I do not like being told how to do my job. I do not like working with less than the maximum available information, or employing less than optimum procedure.

I do like and respect Pierre LaManche. He is the finest pathologist I've ever known.

I looked at my boss. The old man nodded almost imperceptibly. Work with me, he was signaling.

I shifted my gaze to the faces hovering above Avram Ferris. In each I saw the age-old struggle of dogma versus pragmatics. The body as temple. The body as ducts and ganglia and piss and bile.

In each I saw the anguish of loss.

The same anguish I'd overheard just minutes before.

"Of course," I said quietly. "Call when you're ready to retract the scalp."

I looked at Ryan. He winked, Ryan the cop hinting at Ryan the lover.

The woman was still crying when I left the autopsy wing. Her companion, or companions, were now silent.

I hesitated, not wanting to intrude on personal sorrow.

Was that it? Or was that merely an excuse to shield myself?

I often witness grief. Time and again I am present for that head-on collision when survivors face the realization of their altered lives. Meals that will never be shared. Conversations that will never be spoken. Little Golden Books that will never be read aloud.

I see the pain, but have no help to offer. I am an outsider, a voyeur looking on after the crash, after the fire, after the shooting. I am part of the screaming sirens, the stretching of the yellow tape, the zipping of the body bag.

I cannot diminish the overwhelming sorrow. And I hate my impotence.

Feeling like a coward, I turned into the family room.

Two women sat side by side, together but not touching. The younger could have been thirty or fifty. She had pale skin, heavy brows, and curly dark hair tied back on her neck. She wore a black skirt and a long black sweater with a high cowl that brushed her jaw.

The older woman was so wrinkled she reminded me of the dried-apple dolls crafted in the Carolina mountains. She wore an ankle-length dress whose color fell somewhere between black and purple. Loose threads spiraled where the top three buttons should have been.

I cleared my throat.

Apple Granny glanced up, tears glistening on the face of ten thousand creases.

"Mrs. Ferris?"

The gnarled fingers bunched and rebunched a hanky.

"I'm Temperance Brennan. I'll be helping with Mr. Ferris's autopsy."

The old woman's head dropped to the right, jolting her wig to a suboptimal angle.

"Please accept my condolences. I know how difficult this is for you."

The younger woman raised two heart-stopping lilac eyes. "Do you?"

Good question.

Loss is difficult to understand. I know that. My understanding of loss is incomplete. I know that, too.

I lost my brother to leukemia when he was three. I lost my grandmother when she'd lived more than ninety years. Each time, the grief was like a living thing, invading my body and nesting deep in my marrow and nerve endings.

Kevin had been barely past baby. Gran was living in memories that didn't include me. I loved them. They loved me. But they were not the entire focus of my life, and both deaths were anticipated.

How did anyone deal with the sudden loss of a spouse? Of a child?

I didn't want to imagine.

The younger woman pressed her point. "You can't presume to understand the sorrow we feel."

Unnecessarily confrontational, I thought. Clumsy condolences are still condolences.

"Of course not," I said, looking from her to her companion and back. "That was presumptuous of me."

Neither woman spoke.

"I am very sorry for your loss."

The younger woman waited so long I thought she wasn't going to respond.

"I'm Miriam Ferris. Avram is ... was my husband." Miriam's hand came up and paused, as if uncertain as to its mission. "Dora is Avram's mother."

The hand fluttered toward Dora, then dropped to rejoin its counterpart.

"I suppose our presence during the autopsy is irregular. There's nothing we can do." Miriam's voice sounded husky with grief. "This is all so ..." Her words trailed off, but her eyes stayed fixed on me.

I tried to think of something comforting, or uplifting, or even just calming to say. No words formed in my mind. I fell back on clichés.

"I do understand the pain of losing a loved one."

A twitch made Dora's right cheek jump. Her shoulders slumped and her head dropped.

I moved to her, squatted, and placed my hand on hers.

"Why Avram?" Choked. "Why my only son? A mother should not bury her son."

Miriam said something in Hebrew or Yiddish.

"Who is this God? Why does he do this?"

Miriam spoke again, this time with quiet reprimand.

Dora's eyes rolled up to mine. "Why not take me? I'm old. I'm ready." The wrinkled lips trembled.

"I can't answer that, ma'am." My own voice sounded husky.

A tear dropped from Dora's chin to my thumb.

I looked down at that single drop of wetness.

I swallowed.

"May I make you some tea, Mrs. Ferris?"

"We'll be fine," Miriam said. "Thank you."

I squeezed Dora's hand. The skin felt dry, the bones brittle.

Feeling useless, I stood and handed Miriam a card. "I'll be upstairs for the next few hours. If there's anything I can do, please don't hesitate to call."

Exiting the viewing room, I noticed one of the bearded observers watching from across the hall.

As I passed, the man stepped forward to block my path.

"That was very kind." His voice had a peculiar raspy quality, like Kenny Rogers singing "Lucille."

"A woman has lost her son. Another her husband."

"I saw you in there. It is obvious you are a person of compassion. A person of honor."

Where was this going?

The man hesitated, as though debating a few final points with himself. Then he reached into a pocket, withdrew an envelope, and handed it to me.

"This is the reason Avram Ferris is dead."

I shifted my gaze to the faces hovering above Avram Ferris. In each I saw the age-old struggle of dogma versus pragmatics. The body as temple. The body as ducts and ganglia and piss and bile.

In each I saw the anguish of loss.

The same anguish I'd overheard just minutes before.

"Of course," I said quietly. "Call when you're ready to retract the scalp."

(Continues...)



Excerpted from Cross Bones by Kathy Reichs Copyright © 2005 by Temperance Brennan, L.P.. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Interviews & Essays

Ransom Notes Interview with Kathy ReichsRansom Notes: Tempe's profession is such a distinctive part of this series. What made you decide to give your protagonist the same career as yourself? Kathy Reichs: Before writing the Temperance Brennan series I was a university professor (University of North Carolina-Charlotte) writing scientific texts on forensic anthropology. I was also consulting in forensic anthropology to the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in North Carolina, and to the Laboratoire de Sciences Judiciaires et de Médecine Légale in Montreal, Quebec. When I started writing about Temperance, the advice I really took to heart was "Write about what you know." RN: Has this overlap between your two professions, writer and forensic anthropologist, caused any complications in your own life? KR: No. And I am careful to keep the two separate. My colleagues at the lab were thrilled, and continue to be. They could not be more helpful in supplying information about their various fields of expertise. At the university, the reaction was somewhat more mixed. The one exception was the chancellor at UNCC. He has been unwaveringly supportive. RN: What's the biggest change in Tempe's life between the events of Monday Mourning and those in Cross Bones? KR: Cross Bones takes Tempe out of Monday Mourning's familiar setting of Montreal and into Israel. She is in a strange place, dealing with an unknown legal system and an unfamiliar law enforcement structure…and her relationship with Ryan really heats up! RN: Would you like to talk about the contrasts between the historical mystery elements in Cross Bones and the modern mysteries in both Cross Bones and other books in this series? KR: Writing about the ancient dead was great fun for me -- a return to my roots. I trained in bioarchaeology, and did my doctoral work and early research with ancient skeletons. In Cross Bones, I try to show how similar skills are brought to bear in analyzing both modern and ancient remains. While some of the same techniques are used in archaeology and in modern forensics, the goals are very different. Archaeology addresses questions about populations. In a forensic investigation, one tries to establish an individual identity and reconstruct a specific death episode.RN: What did you enjoy most about researching Cross Bones? KR: Travel to Israel was exhilarating and informative. I spent time crawling around in caves and tombs, visiting antiquities dealers, absorbing the flavor of the place. I was helped tremendously by biblical archaeologist Dr. James Tabor, who first brought me the idea for Cross Bones based on his work at Masada and Qumran, with the shroud tomb, and with the James ossuary. RN: What can you tell us about your future plans for Tempe Brennan? KR: I am currently [summer 2005] working on the next Temperance Brennan novel, to be set in Charleston, South Carolina. I am also a producer on this fall's upcoming FOX TV series, Bones, based on me and on my books. I love to hear from readers, especially through my web site, www.kathyreichs.com.
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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 129 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted January 26, 2014

    :(

    I love the Tempe novels, but this one is just bad. The plot just couldn't suck me in this time, and usually I'm ALL OVER these books. I would honestly skip this one and go straight into the next, it's SOOOOOOO much better. And it isn't like she gets anywhere in her relationship in this one.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted August 21, 2011

    If you like Fox's 'Bones', you'll love the original Temperance Brennan!

    I recommend starting with Deja Dead and reading right on through! You won't regret it!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 16, 2009

    I Also Recommend:

    Suspensful.

    Can't get enough. I have read all of Kathy Reichs books. And I think you will too.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted July 25, 2009

    I loved it overalll

    Kathy Reich does it again She has you looking one way then broadsides you with the real plot line . I am a fan forever.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 22, 2014

    Not her best

    I honestly love reading this series but this one had too much information on nothing. Skip this book and go right to the next one in the series!

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  • Posted February 2, 2014

    love this must read

    I keep coming back for the next book. this one is really good.

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  • Posted August 22, 2013

    Kathy Reichs is incredible!

    I am so addicted to the Temperance Brennan series. I am now on #11. The great thing about reading her novels is that she's so detailed, it includes a little bit of everything, romance, drama, science, etc. And especially reading from B&N's Nook, I can highlight a word and easily look it up and continue reading.

    One of these days I would love to meet her and shake her hand. Cross Bones was so thrilling I just may read it again. The history in it was incredible and really got me thinking. Then add the forensics science and it was amazing! This was definitely a must read...again!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 31, 2012

    Intriguing Story

    The story line was very intriguing and sucked me in from the get go. I do wish the ending was a little different as it didn't seem to tie up all the loose ends in the story. It kept me interested and I continued to read. I do enjoy this series.

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  • Posted October 25, 2010

    Very good book

    This was a gift from my mother-in-law for my birthday. I can say that it has a very interesting ending, not what you expect. This is something that I have seen in her books, they always have a twist that would turn everything. When I read the back of the book to see what it was about I thought it would be full of silly situations, but she proof me wrong.
    I highly recommend her books, they are full of interesting details, humor and sarcasm. Pretty well written.

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  • Posted May 5, 2010

    Odd Bones

    Good listen on a long road trip. A bit far fetched hitting all the current stereotypes of the Christian-Jewish-etc conflict.

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  • Posted February 20, 2010

    I Also Recommend:

    Cross Bones (Temperance Brennan Series #8) Review

    This book had a very good plot but it was a little boring throughout certain sections of the book. But then it was very exciting in other parts of the book and it had a very good ending. I recommend this book to people who like murder and mystery or even just those CSI TV shows.

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  • Posted October 27, 2009

    LOVE IT <3

    I love this book! It is amazingly awesome! It might be hard to follow for people who get distracted fast. But this book is uber good!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 17, 2008

    Stick With Ms. Reichs, the Next Book is Better

    I really do enjoy Kathy Reichs books, but this one...let's just say it's not really her best book, doesn't come anywhere close. It started out okay but by the time you got halfway through it, it was like cringing till the end. Don't worry Kathy Reichs fans, her next novel Break No Bones is SOOOO much better. This book, I'd skip it if I were you! Kathy Reichs is a great author and keeps writing Great novels, please don't let one fluke of a book, stop you from reading her books because they truly are Excellent Novels!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 21, 2008

    Not one of her best

    I read all of her books and am having a hard time finishing this one. Usually I finish in a few days even with a busy schedule. I am counting the pages til it's done. That is a first for any book Kathy Reichs has written. The character development wasn't what it should be. Had this been the first of her books, I doubt that I would have read any more. This plot was hard to follow and seemed constrained. I kept thinking, this is a stretch. I've already bought her next book. I hope it is better. After 7 winners, one dud isn't enough to make me quit reading her work.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 19, 2006

    Bad one to start with....

    After reading the reviews, I may give this author another try....this book was so poorly written!! The metaphores where silly (eggs the size of Mt. Rushmore.....PLEASE!!) And the scenes were boring....the scene with the flashlight and the jackel could have been written by a 10 year old! I will try her again because some fans think this book was a disappointment.....so I'll give her another shot!

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 19, 2006

    Stick to your tried and true method!

    I too was waiting anxiously for this book and I too had to force myself to finish it. Unfortunately she started mixing religion into this book. The relgious preaching in the last 2 pages were the final straw. I hope she sees the error of her ways and goes back to writing what she knows so much about.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 10, 2006

    Kathy Reichs - please stick to your genre and don't try to compete with Dan Brown!

    I found this to be the worst of Reichs' books (I have read all of them). For some unknown reason Reichs decided to take on Dan Brown and the De Vinci Code -- my advice is, DON'T! I enjoy the standard murder/detective novels that Reichs does best, and urge her to return to that. Also, the incessant bantering and bickering between Tempe Brennan and Ryan is just irritating, and should be toned down. Bottom line, this book was simply confusing, with too many plot lines, and not enjoyable to read.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 11, 2006

    Religion and Murder all in one

    Temperance Brennan and Andrew Ryan are once again on the trail of a murderer. While on her Montreal tour of duty, Tempe is present at the autopsy of a Jewish man that has been shot to death. Also present are four members of the Jewish community. Just after the autopsy, a Jewish man gives Tempe a photo of a skeleton and tells her that the skeleton is the reason the man is dead. But, he was not one of the four that were at the autopsy. So who is he? Tempe calls a biblical archeologist friend, Jake Drum, and tells him about the photo. Jake is immediately interested and has her fax him a copy. This puts her right in the middle of a religious controversy that could turn the world upside down. Flying to Israel, Tempe is shown a cave that once was a burial chamber. In this chamber, she finds a shroud and a few bone fragments. Tempe then discovers that the shooting victim in Montreal dealt in black market antiquities, once of which is a full skeleton of someone who everyone wonders if it has ties to the Holy Family. Or is the skeleton simply one of the Masada defenders or simply someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time? So, the hunt begins to discover what is true and to who killed the dealer. Between the normal ¿who-done-it¿, Ms. Reichs writes about a religious controversy that could rewrite 2000 years of history. Has the tomb of the Jesus family been found? She keeps you on the edge of your seat wondering how it is all going to end. She does it splendidly but I won¿t give away the best part. You will have to listen to it for yourself. And, if listening/reading Ms. Reichs books are not enough ¿Brennan¿ for you, there is even a series on television called ¿Bones¿. I, for one, won¿t miss any of Ms. Reichs¿ books or one of the television shows.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 23, 2005

    Tedious, messy and confusing

    Tedious, messy and confusing are not good words to describe a novel. Unfortunately, this was not a good novel and the words do apply. I have ready all of the past Kathy Reichs books and generally they were very good. I think she tried to stretch Tempe too much in this book. She had her delving into areas that were way over her head. I knew things were going to get overly complex when she had Tempe and Ryan go off to Israel together. If this had been a tightly written, fast paced novel, it would have helped the subject matter. But, it was rambling, confusing, and did not hold my interest. I found myself skimming through parts and finally I decided to check the last few pages to see if a rousing finale would prompt me to keep reading. What I read at the end was not encouraging, but I did plod through the book. I guess everyone can have a 'miss' in a long row of hits. I hope Kathy gets back to basics with good solid stories and mysteries with her next book

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 26, 2005

    Does she think we're stupid??

    I was very excited to read this book being from the Charlotte area and hearing her on NPR. What a great topic! I found myself questioning her need to keep retelling the same story throughout. I have no doubt that she knows more than me about the topic, but I don't think she needed to cater to the lowest common denominator. I also thought the love story was boring and had no real place in this book. It was all too contrived. I am looking forward to reading her colleague's book The Jesus Dynasty when it is released next year and hope it is not dumbed down.

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 129 Customer Reviews

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