The eighth book in the bestselling British madcap time-travelling series, served with a dash of wit that seems to be everyone’s cup of tea.
Behind the seemingly innocuous facade of St. Mary’s Institute of Historical Research, a different kind of academic work is taking place. Just don’t call it “time travel”—these historians “investigate major historical events in contemporary time.” And they aren’t your harmless eccentrics either; a more accurate description, as they ricochet around history, might be unintentional disaster-magnets.
The Chronicles of St. Mary’s tells the chaotic adventures of Madeleine Maxwell and her compatriots—Director Bairstow, Leon “Chief” Farrell, Mr. Markham, and many more—as they travel through time, saving St. Mary’s Institute (too often by the very seat of their pants) and thwarting time-travelling terrorists, all the while leaving plenty of time for tea.
You think you’re having a bad day? Max is trapped in the same deadly sandstorm that buried the fifty thousand-strong army of the Pharaoh Cambyses II, and she’s sharing the only available shelter for miles around with the murdering psychopath who recently kidnapped her and left her adrift in time.
She’s no safer at St. Mary’s. Tragedy strikes—not once, but several times—and with no Leon, no Markham, and no Peterson at her side, Max’s personal life slowly begins to unravel. From the Egyptian desert to the Battle of Hastings, and from Bayeux Cathedral to the Sack of Constantinople, Max must race through time to save the ones she loves.
