From my debut novel, Ancient Sands

A lock of hair lashed across Layla’s eyes, making them sting. She swore and pushed the unruly strands back out of her face. The blistering desert winds whipped the damned stuff free every time she tried styling it under her scarf. Layla called those winds the khamaseen, after the local fashion. It meant ‘fifty’ for the fifty-day winds. They spun up to the strength of hurricanes and etched their legacy across the deserts of Egypt.

If the winds weren’t enough, the sun was. The heat ran well into the 40s—Celsius, of course. Whatever unit you measured it in, it went from hot to scorching and the sweat evaporated faster than her ability to cool off. The heat itself felt like a living thing that embraced and smothered her. Layla shuddered.

“Doctor Packett,” called Lee, the intern. “You should come inside. It’s better in the shade.”

Even though she was hot and miserable, she preferred that over cramming herself into a small temple space with the rest of the dig team. Too many people in one space made her skin crawl. That, combined with the odor of their sweat, was enough to make her want to stay out in the heat.

“I’ll be right in,” she replied. Content with her response, Lee popped their head back inside right after. They seemed eager to get back to shade and shelter, Layla decided in the seclusion of her own mind. Instead of going inside, she turned her back to the temple building and gazed over the sacred lake.

As the winds died back down, the lake settled and reflected an uneasy sky. The sky reflected her state of mind. Something felt off. Ever since the discovery of human remains just on the other side of the sacred lake, the Precinct of Mut had garnered more attention in the profession than it had since they realized Thutmose III had struck Hatshepsut’s name from the constructions. Some people still believed Thutmose III developed most of the precinct, even though all evidence now pointed to his aunt and step-mother, Hatshepsut.