The Pharaoh's Daughter

Praise for

The Pharaoh's Daughter

“A story I have waited for,
The Pharaoh's Daughter
throws light on one of the Old Testament's most enigmatic—and least lauded—figures. With gorgeous prose and painstaking research, ancient Egypt comes alive. This poignant story is a fascinating look into the early life of Moses and the time of King Tut. Poetic and fiercely compelling, this is Andrews's finest yet.”

—T
OSCA
L
EE
,
New York Times
best-selling author of
Iscariot

“What a delight! I loved sinking into the treasures of Egypt, with all the lush and fascinating detail that Andrews skillfully brings to life, in this behind-the-scenes imagining of a familiar tale.”

—T
RACY
H
IGLEY
, author of
Pyramid of Secrets

“Inspired by the scriptures, Mesu Andrews brings the ancient world to glowing life!”

—R. J. L
ARSON
, author of
Prophet

In the Shadow of Jezebel

Love in a Broken Vessel

Love's Sacred Song

Love Amid the Ashes

To my daughters, Trina and Emily. You are my heroes.

Thanks to my agent, Karen Ball, who guided me through a new contract process, and to the great folks at WaterBrook Multnomah—you are amazing. To Shannon Marchese, my senior editor:
The Pharaoh's Daughter
is richer, fuller, and more complete because you saw Anippe's soul before I did. To Amy Haddock, my marketing director: from our very first meeting, your energy and commitment to trying new things inspired me. (And you make the best chocolate-chip cookies EVER!) Thanks to the design team for the fabulous cover—more than I could have asked or imagined. Publicity and Sales teams, you are my hands and feet, and … WOW, you cover a lot of territory. “Thank you” isn't enough for all you do to get my book into readers' hands. A special thanks to Stuart McGuiggan, who was instrumental in bringing me to WaterBrook Multnomah. I owe you a cup of coffee, sir!

Our gracious God has surrounded me with a tribe of generous people, who gave of their time, talents, and resources to help me complete this book. Thanks go to Suzanne Smith, research librarian at Multnomah University, for trimming my research time in half by collecting books and articles on topics I requested. I'm so grateful to Phil and Pam Long for the use of their mountain cabin for those writing retreats in God's glorious creation. And to my three critique partners—Meg Wilson, Velynn Brown, and Michele Nordquist—I couldn't do this writing thing without your love, encouragement, and fantastic editing.

Finally, to both my spiritual and earthly families—thank you. My prayer team, BFF Team, my parents, and our kids—you pray for and encourage me through every panicked e-mail and plot roadblock. My incredible husband endures not only the ups and downs of my writing journey but also edits the full manuscript at least three times in its various forms. He's my rock, my hero, my biggest fan. I love you, Roy Andrews.

Ancient Egypt is a fascinating and challenging world to describe. Writing about it is sort of like drinking water from a fire hose. Information is everywhere! Some accurate, some simply ridiculous. Lists of pharaohs differ. Legend contradicts legend. And their gods—even ancient Egyptians disagreed about their gods.

How does one write a historically accurate story with such divergent information?

I began with the unalterable Truth of God's Word. The
Author's Note
details my process for making historical choices for the story, and the rest is plausible fiction—a story of what
might have happened
to Pharaoh's daughter. If at any point the story deviates from Scripture, it's unintentional—and I ask your grace and forgiveness.

The names and themes of this book are complex—as Egypt itself is complex—but stick with it, dear reader. Let the story unfold within your heart and mind. Walk with me among the bulrushes of the Nile and into the unsuspecting life of Pharaoh's daughter.

The royal linen closet is a dark hiding place, but I'm a big girl—almost five inundations old—so I'm trying not to be afraid.

I wonder … is it dark in the underworld? Was Ummi Kiya afraid when she and the baby inside her crossed over this morning?

The priest ordered me and my little sister to the birthing chamber. Ankhe is only three. She wouldn't go.

The priest was angry, so he came to our chamber and grabbed Ankhe's hand. “You must see the beauty of Tawaret—goddess of childbirth!”

Instead, we saw Ummi Kiya's blood poured out on the straw under her birthing stool. Her light-brown skin was white as milk. The midwives pulled out a baby boy, but he was as gray as granite.