Cover image for Daughters of Eve
Daughters of Eve
Duncan, Lois, 1934-2016.
Personal Author:
First edition.
Publication Information:
Boston : Little, Brown, [1979]

A high school teacher uses the guise of feminist philosophy to manipulate the lives of a group of girls with chilling results.
Program Information:
Accelerated Reader AR UG 5.4 10.0 11709.
Format :


Call Number
Material Type
Home Location
Item Holds
YOUNG ADULT FICTION Young Adult Fiction Central Closed Stacks
FICTION Young Adult Fiction Central Closed Stacks

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A high school teacher uses the guise of feminist philosophy to manipulate the lives of a group of girls with chilling results.

Author Notes

Lois Duncan was born on April 28, 1934 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. At the age of 13, her first story was published in the magazine Calling All Girls. As a senior in high school, she won Seventeen magazine's annual short-story contest. She continued to write for magazines after getting married and having children. She entered her young adult manuscript Debutante Hill in Dodd, Mead and Company's Seventeenth Summer Literary Contest and earned the grand prize, which was $1000 and a book contract. That first title was published in 1958. She published several young adult novels at that time including Love Song for Joyce and A Promise for Joyce, both under the pseudonym Lois Kerry.

After her first marriage ended in divorce, she wrote freelance magazine articles and taught in the journalism department at the University of New Mexico. After she married for the second time, she started writing books again. Her young adult novels included Ransom, I Know What You Did Last Summer, Killing Mr. Griffin, Night Terrors, Stranger with My Face, Don't Look Behind You, and The Twisted Window.

She also wrote works for younger readers including Silly Mother, The Circus Comes Home: When the Greatest Show on Earth Rose the Rails, Hotel for Dogs, News for Dogs, and Movie for Dogs. Her best-known non-fiction book, Who Killed My Daughter?: The True Story of a Mother's Search for Her Daughter's Murderer, is about her family's experiences following the murder of her youngest daughter in 1989. Her works have earned her several awards including three Parents' Choice awards, the Margaret A. Edwards Award in 1992, and the 2015 Grand Master Award by the Mystery Writers of America. She died on June 15, 2016 at the age of 82.

(Bowker Author Biography)

Reviews 1

School Library Journal Review

Gr 9 Up-The sleepy little town of Modesta is stuck in a time warp. It's never really referred to out loud, but the women and girls there are treated like second class citizens and even servants. But no one really sees anything wrong with it. At the local high school, there's an exclusive service-oriented sorority called the Daughters of Eve. Until recently, they were content with their fundraising for the boys' sports teams and helping at the senior center. But under the reins of a new advisor, the girls begin to see that they are not being treated equitably. They start to take matters into their own hands, dealing out justice-or maybe vengeance-as they see fit. One incident escalates into another and another. How long before they are caught and forced to face their actions? Lois Duncan's novel (Little, Brown, 1979) is an excellent example of vigilante justice gone wrong. The characters act on perceived slights, and the idea of gender equality is turned into something sinister and hurtful. The most troubling aspect of the story is that, except for one or two people, the perpetrators are never held responsible for their actions. While narrator Rebecca Gibel does her best to differentiate the many female characters, there are so many of them that it often becomes confusing. Pass on this one.-Melyssa Kenney, Parkville High School, Baltimore, MD (c) Copyright 2012. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.



"The meeting will come to order."  Fran Schneider raised the small wooden gavel and brought it down upon the tabletop with a sharp click.  She nodded toward the partially open door.  "Will somebody pull that closed, please?  Thank you, Tammy.  Now, let us all join hands and repeat the club pledge." Hands reached out on all sides around the art room table and closed upon other hands, and a chorus of solemn voices rose softly to recite the words: "I pledge myself to the spirit of sisterhood--and to warmth of friendship.  I promise to do my best--as a member of the Daughters of Eve-- to follow the code of loyalty, love and service--laid out for womankind since time's beginning--and to divulge to no one words spoken in confidence--within this sacred circle." There was a moment of silence.  Then the hands released each other, and there was a shuffle of bodies shifting position to sit back more comfortably in the hard, straight-backed chairs. Something is wrong. Wrong, how? I don't know.  I can't put my finger on it. Then it can't be anything very important, can it? It was a habit of Tammy Carncross's to have discussions with herself within her head.  Sometimes she felt there must really be two parts of her, two distinct personalities, one the thinking part, one going strictly on emotions.  As she sat now, silent, watching the initiation take place, the two voices within her head picked back and forth at each other like bickering children, and Tammy longed to tell them, "Hush.  Be quiet.  I'm trying to enjoy the ceremony." The shades at the art-room windows had been drawn, and three white candles had been lighted.  Before them, Fran had placed an open Bible from which she read aloud:   "And Ruth said, 'Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee:  for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God." It was a moving ceremony.  The three new members stood with bent heads, and the light from the candles flickered softly upon their faces and threw leaping shadows on the far wall. "Such is the spirit of sisterhood--" Something is wrong. You have no reason for thinking that. I have this feeling-- What could it be--? And then she saw it, thick and dark, dripping from one of the candles like melted wax.  The word flashed through her mind like a high-pitched scream--BLOOD! Could nobody else see it?  Evidently not.  Or perhaps they simply did not want to see.    Excerpted from Daughters of Eve by Lois Duncan All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.