I can hear the criticisms now: predictable and hopelessly clichéd. And I agree. As a whodunit, it failed miserably; I figured out early on who the culprit was, and while I didn't realize Alberto was the mummy, I certainly knew it was a confederate of Evelyn's cousin Lucus. The clichés were out in full force: who among us didn't realize from the moment they met that Amelia and Radcliff were perfect for each other? After all their bickering and criticism of one another, who didn't expect them to end up in each other's arms?
That being said, I loved the book. Elizabeth Peters played on my emotions shamelessly, and it worked. Even though I could see it all coming, I thoroughly enjoyed the ride—so much so that I just bought the sequel, The Curse of the Pharaohs.
This book satisfied. It made me feel good, and there's nothing wrong with that.