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Out of the pages of history comes the story of passion between a warrior-king and a lowly handmaiden . . .

From the pages of David and Bathsheba:


Ahithophel thought of his granddaughter, Bathsheba. She was no longer a little child but a beautiful, slim, young woman of fourteen, with rich black hair that rippled down to her waist, when not covered. Her eyes were dark and laughing with long lashes that edged them in a most becoming way.

She had been so interested in his guests from Hebron and so impressed when she discovered that her grandfather had known David quite well when both were in Saul’s army. Bathsheba had begged and begged him to describe David to her and had not been satisfied with simple answers.

"Is he tall?" she had asked quite casually.

"Taller than I am," he had answered without paying much attention.

"What color are his eyes?"

"I don’t know." He had added, "They are unusual eyes; you might say they were hazel flecked with blue."

"Is he strong?"

"Very. Muscular but very gentle. It is difficult to describe him."

"Tell me, Grandfather," she said finally, "is he handsome?"


Be carried into the turbulent times of a forbidden love.
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