Rockstar Tours: RISE OF THE SNAKE GODDESS (Jenny Elder Moke), Excerpt & Giveaway~ US Only.

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the RISE OF THE SNAKE GODDESS by Jenny Elder Moke Blog Tour hosted by 
Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


About the Book:


Author: Jenny Elder Moke

Pub. Date: June 7, 2022

Publisher: Disney-Hyperion

Formats: Hardcover, eBook, audiobook

Pages: 320

Find it: GoodreadsAmazonKindle, AudibleB&N, iBooks, Kobo, TBD,

Knox is back for another adventure in this 1920s female-driven
mystery-adventure series!

Sam Knox’s second adventure takes her to the island of Crete, just off the
coast of Greece, where she discovers the ancient Snake Goddess’s golden girdle
in the depths of a cave shrine that has been buried for decades. After having
been belittled by her archaeology professor throughout her first college
semester, Sam knows this triumph will prove her worth in the field, but before
she can take credit for the find, the girdle is stolen and the island is hit
with a series of earthquakes that don’t feel quite geological.

Soon Sam, Bennett and Jo are embroiled in a wild hunt―one that takes them to
tiny island shops, a glamorous auction party and a near fiery death―to find the
girdle before someone can use it to raise an ancient goddess from her slumber.
The final battle features gryphons, a labyrinth, the minotaur of legend and
lots of snakes. Lots.



“Another action-packed, romance and mythology filled
mystery…Themes of wealth, power, and chauvinism are skillfully woven
throughout the story while readers are provided with a cast of characters they
will easily find themselves rooting for!”―School Library Connection

“Billed as the heir apparent to Indiana Jones, Samantha is a witty and
wise adventurer, and it feels as though Moke is building towards an eventual
greater purpose for her heroine.”―Booklist

“Jenny Elder Moke has done it again! Witty banter, ancient mysteries,
thrilling action, and a mix of clever and dubious characters will keep you up
all night in book two of the Samantha Knox series. A fantastic
adventure!”―Jennifer Lynn Alvarez, author of Lies Like Wildfire

“Sam’s response to misogyny and classism propels the book’s action but
also, in the deft hands of the author, provides readers with insights into the
complexities of identity, self-awareness, and right action. While never
becoming preachy, the book also thoughtfully explores issues related to the
ethics of the acquisition and ownership of antiquities…Another satisfying
supernatural adventure featuring an intrepid solver of puzzles.”―Kirkus

“Ahead of her time and a force to be reckoned with, Samantha Knox is the female
Indiana Jones we’ve long been waiting for! You haven’t lived until you’ve read
a Samantha Knox novel.”―Jen Calonita, New York Times best-selling author
of the A Twisted Tale series



chapter one

Samantha Knox was not lurking.

At least, she tried to tell herself she was not lurking. She  was simply waiting. But the longer she paced the short stretch  of hallway outside of Professor Atchinson’s office, the less it felt  like waiting and the more it felt like lying in wait. The paper she  carried had long since crinkled into a withered white flag more  suitable for blowing her nose than for triumphantly presenting to  the professor as Sam intended. But it was the content of the paper,  not its physical state, that mattered most to Sam.

“Professor Atchinson, good afternoon, so good to see you,” Sam  rehearsed softly to herself mid-pace. “I know we had a rocky start,  sir, what with you kicking me out of your class on the first day  of the semester and humiliating me in front of all my peers. You  might be thinking I’m here now for revenge, but I assure you, sir,  that hasn’t occurred to me in months. Hmm, maybe not the most  auspicious start.”

Better not to bring up that awful day, already cemented in Sam’s  memory among other such denigrating experiences as falling in  the mud pit outside of her schoolroom back in her hometown of  Clement, Illinois, or that time she ate with the wrong fork at her best friend’s house and had to be quietly corrected by the serving  girl. No, if she wanted to win over the man who held her academic  future in his hands, she would have to put aside the past and forge  a new future.

Sam paused, her sensible loafers squeaking as she changed  direction physically and mentally. “Professor Atchinson, sir, good  afternoon! I am sure you are as excited as all your students are to  begin your summer field school at Knossos. I know I am, because  I will be one of them! Your students, I mean. For the summer.  Because I did it! I made top of the class for first-years. Does that  sound like bragging? That might sound like bragging. Professor  Atchinson, if you would kindly read this paper for me, you will  see . . . well, now it just sounds like I don’t know how to read for  myself.”

She let out a sigh, slumping against the wall of the empty hallway. It was the end of the spring semester—her first semester at  the University of Chicago—and the students had scattered faster  than the pollen on the trees outside as soon as final exams were  complete. She should have been off celebrating along with the rest  of her peers—well, the ones that hadn’t bought into the rumors  about her—but instead here she was, certainly not lurking, but  perhaps doing an approximation of it.

Sam fumbled with a little figurine in her pocket, drawing it out  to hold it up in the electric lights of the hall. A misshapen lump of  metal, nothing more than a bit of mangled tin. The front half of it  was crushed and distorted, the back half giving the impression of  hind legs. Once upon a time, it had been a toy horse, carried along  in her father’s pocket as he fought on the front lines in France, a  gift he intended to send home to her. But it had been destroyed  along with the rest of her father when a shell hit the hotel where  his garrison had been sequestered.

“Oh, Papa,” she said, petting the lump of tin where the horse’s  head would have been, the metal there tarnished and slightly  indented from all the times she had invoked its comfort. “I wish  you could see me now. At a real university, just like we always  dreamed! And top of my class, besides. I know you wouldn’t think  I was bragging.”

There had been a letter sent back along with the horse, half written and half-burned. Her father had found the trinket buried  under rubble, and he’d detailed to her how he had used the tip  of his bayonet to excavate it using the techniques she had taught  him. It had made him feel closer to her, the letter had said, on  his own little treasure hunt just like the ones she was always so  obsessed with back home.

He’d had dreams for her, Sam’s father. Dreams she had put away  for seven long years after he died. Dreams that hurt too much to  have after he was gone. But that all changed six months ago, when  a mysterious diary appeared at her shop and sent her on a journey  that upended her life. Now all she wanted was to recapture that  lost time and do right by her father’s memory. She wanted to make  him proud.

There was only one thing standing in her way, and he should  have been done with office hours fifteen minutes ago. “I should just knock, shouldn’t I? I am a student with a question  after all. Is that not what office hours are for?” Sam marched up  to the door, lifting her fist and willing it to knock. Except all it did  was hover there, uncertainly.

“Maybe I’ll give him five more minutes,” Sam said, pacing back  toward the opposite wall. She dropped her forehead against the  cool stones, shaking her head. “Or maybe you’re just being a coward, Samantha Margaret Knox.”

Or perhaps she was just hungry. She had elected to skip lunch in the hopes of catching Professor Atchinson after office hours.  Her mother had often told her growing up that her stomach was  more reliable than the dinner bell. And it was certainly ringing all  the alarms now, gurgling loudly enough that a passing student gave  her a worried glance.

“Happy end of semester!” she called to the boy as she hastily  pulled her forehead off the wall to frown down at her stomach.  “Hush, would you? I promise to give you an extra helping of  mashed potatoes at dinner if you would just let me talk to the  professor without embarrassing me.”

“Too late for that,” came an obnoxious male voice. Theodore  Chapin, one of Professor Atchinson’s graduate students, smirked  at her from the doorway of the professor’s office. He played full back for the University of Chicago football team, and it showed in  the massive span of his shoulders and the blunt thickness of his  nose that had seen its fair share of breaks.

“Hello, Theo,” Sam said to the boy, aiming for polite and landing closer to apprehensive. She had grown up around plenty of  rude boys in Clement, but Theodore Chapin strained even her  patience. Professor Atchinson had a reputation among the under graduates for dispensing his favor to the students based on their  worth to him, and Theo played the perfect heavy. He fell into the  role now, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest so that she  could hardly see past him into the professor’s office.

She went up on tiptoe to peer over his shoulder, her hopes that  she might have been spared some measure of embarrassment falling as she spotted Professor Atchinson standing just behind him.  Still, she forced enthusiasm into her voice. “Professor Atchinson,  hello!”

“Not you again, Miss Knox,” said Professor Atchinson, his British  accent lending a knife’s edge to his annoyance. “I thought I made my feelings on your presence perfectly clear the day you attempted  to infiltrate my anthropology lecture and sow your chaos among  my students.”

Well, so much for not bringing up the past. Sam cleared her  throat of the lump that suddenly formed there, determined not to  let it ruin her moment. “I know we started off on the wrong foot,  Professor—”

“The wrong foot,” Professor Atchinson snorted. “As if you did not  conspire with Barnaby Wallstone on his harebrained scheme to  undo all my tireless work here, traipsing halfway across the world  to Dublin with no credentials and no experience and embarrassing  the good name of our program at the University of Chicago.”

That was not at all what had happened, or even how it happened, but she could hardly make that point to the professor.  They had given their official version of what happened in Dublin  enough times over—to the authorities in Ireland and those here at  home, to the official inquest opened by the school, not to mention  in dozens of informal settings to gossip-hungry peers—and she  couldn’t claim anything to the contrary without opening herself  to more questions that she did not want to answer. So she gritted  her teeth, willed the corners of her mouth to lift in a smile, and  focused all her energy on the future.

“I hope we can start fresh—well, start at all, really—this summer  during the field school at Knossos.”

“What could possibly make you think you would be part of my  field school?” Atchinson asked with a sniff. “It is for graduate students only, Miss Knox, those handpicked by me for their skills and  dedication. Students like Mr. Chapin here, who has earned his  position among my elite disciples with hard work and dedication  to the study.”

And kissing up to you every chance he gets, Sam added silently.

But the thought must have made itself plain on her features,  because Professor Atchinson’s tight expression soured. “This is what the prestigious University of Chicago has come to,  letting in any riffraff from the cornfields on bloody scholarship,” he  muttered, as if to himself but loud enough that they could all hear. Sam stiffened, her face going red as Theo let out a loud laugh.  “Not going to start in with the tears now, are you?” Theo taunted  her. “You’re just like my girl, Evelyn, getting misty-eyed at the  thought of a wounded bird.”

Sam rather thought his girlfriend, Evelyn Hamilton, must get  teary-eyed at the prospect of having agreed to date someone like  Theodore Chapin. But Evelyn was not her concern today, and her  attempts to start anew with Professor Atchinson were about as  fresh as curdled milk.

“I made top of the class,” she blurted out, thrusting the wilted  piece of paper at the professor. He eyed it with distaste, and she  gave it a little shake. Or maybe that was just her hand shaking  with the attempt to keep her frustration at bay. “First among the  undergraduates.”

She waited for her meaning to sink in with him, waited to see  it change his opinion of her. When he made no move to respond,  her confidence faltered.

“The . . . the open position, in the field school,” she continued,  glancing between the professor and Theo. “For the undergraduate  student who shows the most promise in the field. It’s a tradition.  Top of the undergraduate class gets to join the graduate summer  field school excavations. Don’t they?”

Theo’s smirk only got smirkier, which didn’t bode well for Sam.  Professor Atchinson sniffed and straightened, the small motion as  dismissive as if he turned his back on her. “That position has been  eliminated.”

Sam lurched a half step forward. “Eliminated? But . . . how?  Why?”

“The costs would simply be too prohibitive,” the professor said,  looking past her at some distant point down the hall. “Were we  making our normal excavations at the Kincaid Mounds, perhaps  it would have been possible. But we are traveling to Knossos, on  Crete, as part of the twenty-fifth anniversary of Sir Arthur Evans’s  discovery of the Minoan civilization that built the palace. There  are a great many details to consider—passage to Crete, accommodations near the palace, invitations to the gala celebrating the  anniversary. The undertaking is great, and we can hardly extend  our scholarship considering the added costs of such an endeavor.  Perhaps next year, if you can manage such a feat again.”

“But I earned that spot,” Sam said, her whole body trembling.  She couldn’t stand to look at Theo, whose haughty expression practically glowed. Instead, she focused on the professor. “I worked  hard for it all semester. I followed all the rules. You can’t just take  it away from me now. It’s not fair.”

Professor Atchinson stepped past Theo to come toe-to-toe with  her. He wasn’t an impressive man by appearance—he was small  and round, his hair grayed and drawn back sharply along a receding line from his temple, his nose slightly too large for his face. But  what he lacked in physical prowess he made up for in presence.  He knew how to hold a room’s attention, whether it was a lecture  hall filled with students or a board room of university trustees. He used that power now on Sam, giving her such a hard stare that she  felt she must have shrunk three sizes in one look.

“What is not fair is that I have to contend with untried, over eager amateurs like you, trampling through my carefully laid plans  and disgracing all the hard work I have done. Your kind does not  belong here, Miss Knox, no more than a cow would belong in the White House or a chicken on the throne of England. The sooner  you learn that your place is not here but out in those cornfields  from which you grew, the faster this sinking ship of a department  will be righted and set back on course.”

Desperation sucked at Sam’s shoes, holding her fast when all her  wounded pride wanted to do was run and hide. “That’s not true,”  she whispered. “I deserve to be here, same as everyone else.”

“The only place you deserve to be is in that lunatic asylum along side Barnaby Wallstone,” snapped Professor Atchinson. “You’ve  wasted quite enough of my time, girl, and I have no more of it to  spare. Better luck next year. Come along, Theodore.”

“Better luck,” Theo echoed cruelly, trotting after the professor  down the hall and disappearing around the corner, taking all of  Sam’s hopes along with them.



About  Jenny Elder Moke:

Jenny Elder Moke writes young adult
fiction in an attempt to recapture the shining infinity of youth. Her debut
novel, Hood, was a Junior Library Guild Selection, a Mayor’s Book Club
selection, and received critical acclaim.

When she is not writing, she’s gathering
story ideas from her daily adventures with her two irredeemable rapscallions
and honing her ninja skills as a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. Jenny lives in
Denver, CO with her husband and two children.


Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | TikTok | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub



Giveaway Details:

1 winner will receive a finished copy of RISE OF THE SNAKE GODDESS, US Only.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Schedule:

Week One:






IG Review


Another Teen Reading Books

Review/IG Post


Review Thick And

Review/IG Post

Week Two:


A Court of
Coffee and Books

Review/IG Post


Dee’s Book Reviews

Review/IG Post



Review/IG Post


Books Please blog

Review/IG Post


Loves Literature

Review/IG Post



TikTok Review/IG Post


Guide to the Galaxy


Week Three:



IG Review/TikTiok Review


With Serena

Review/IG Post



YouTube Review/IG Post/TikTok Post


Star-Crossed Book

Review/IG Post



Review/IG Post/TikTok Post


Fire and Ice

Review/IG Post



Review/IG Post

Week Four:



Review/IG Post/TikTok Post


Real World According To Sam

Review/IG Post


The Page Ladies

IG Post Review


The Reading

Review/IG Post



IG Review


Girl Who Reads

Review/IG Post


Lifestyle of


Week Five:


Two Points of



The Momma Spot

Review/IG Post



Review/IG Post


of Alexandria Archives

Review/IG Post



Review/IG Post


3 thoughts on “Rockstar Tours: RISE OF THE SNAKE GODDESS (Jenny Elder Moke), Excerpt & Giveaway~ US Only.”

  1. As soon as I saw that the first book was said to be anything like Indianna Jones, this series was put on my “must read” list – I cannot wait for the sequel!

  2. Teri Polen says:

    Loved the first book in this series!

  3. Cori says:

    UMM YES looks fantastic

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