Beyond the Drama, Her Heart Was Real
From the moment her marriage to prince Ahab thrusts her into the intrigues of palace life, Jezebel’s exotic beauty opens doors and her will breaks down walls. Torn from her homeland and wed to power in a strange country, Jezebel vows to create a legacy and power all her own. Some might call her a manipulative schemer, bent on having her way. But they don’t know the whole story, and she was much, much worse.
As she moves through the halls of power, her heart struggles between devotion to the gods she worships, the prince who loves her, and her thirst for revenge. She sparks a battle between her strangely powerless gods and the God of palace administrator Obadiah—a God who confronts her with surprising might. She will fight, though victory may cost her everything.
About the Author
Ginger Garrett is the critically acclaimed author of Chosen: The Lost Diaries of Queen Esther, which was recognized as one of the top five novels of 2006 by the ECPA, and Dark Hour. An expert in ancient women's history, Ginger creates novels and nonfiction resources that explore the lives of historical women. A frequent media guest and television host, Ginger has been interviewed by The New York Times, NPR, Billy Graham's The Hour of Decision," The Harvest Show, Fox News, and many other outlets.
In 2007, Ginger was nominated for the Georgia Author of the Year Award for her novel Dark Hour. A graduate of Southern Methodist University with a degree in theater, she is passionate about creating art from history. You can learn more about Ginger and her work by visiting www.gingergarrett.com
Read an Excerpt
The Chronicles of Queen Jezebel
By Ginger Garrett
David C. CookCopyright © 2013 Ginger Garrett
All rights reserved.
Spring, Four Years Later 882 B.C.
A lonely howl broke through the muffled noises, the grunts and clatter as twenty men ate their dinner. Prince Ahab looked up from his bowl, over the heads of the men sitting opposite him around the fire. In the distance he saw its eyes, caught in the moon's light, watching him. It was only a feral dog.
Ahab couldn't eat anyway. He set the metal bowl down between his legs with a grunt. Obadiah, his father's administrator, was sitting on his left and glanced down at the bowl, then quickly away. Obadiah had planned just enough rations to get them into Phoenicia tomorrow, but he had counted on every man in the party having an appetite. Neither Obadiah nor Ahab ate much, though. Neither had wanted to go on this trip, and neither had to put their feelings into words. They had known each other since boyhood, and Ahab knew Obadiah dreaded the trip just as much as he did. Ahab wondered if this was what it felt like to be a prisoner of war, forced to march to a frightening, foreign destination. He wondered what she was thinking tonight, his intended bride; did she feel the same?
Tired of himself and this dread, Ahab picked up the bowl and walked into the darkness. The dog stood its ground, baring teeth as hair rose along its back. Ahab set the bowl down and backed away, startled when a litter of puppies burst from the undergrowth and rushed to the bowl before their mother. The dog's luminous eyes met Ahab's. They were too thin, those little ones. They had needed that meal badly. He hadn't known she had starving puppies to feed. It frightened him. Even if he did something good, it might have unexpected impact. Obeying his father was honorable, but who knew what might come from it.
It's what the old prophet Elijah had warned him about.
Obadiah stood and walked out to Ahab. Obadiah hadn't touched his own dinner either and, seeing the dogs, turned on his heel, coming back with his food seconds later. He seemed shocked to see the stark outline of ribs along the puppies' bodies. Obadiah knew only about life's cruelty from the many scrolls he read and the stories he'd heard. Though they were about the same age, at seventeen summers, Ahab had already killed more men than Obadiah had ever met. The differences between them were stark.
Obadiah was a Hebrew, a sinewy youth with bright green eyes and curly brown hair that he combed daily. He kept his robes clean and his face washed, although there were perpetual dark stains on his fingers and cuticles from the inkpots he used to keep the records. His speech was refined, each word well chosen, so that he was often mistaken for the son of the noble, instead of the son of a prostitute.
Ahab was not so refined. No one had ever mistaken him for a noble's son, even though he was a prince. He looked like what he was: the son of a legendary murderer, King Omri. His mother had been an Egyptian, and his father, Omri, was a mercenary soldier of unknown breeding. Omri had taken part in a coup and won the crown of Israel. Neither Ahab nor Omri were Hebrew, though, and neither looked like royalty. Ahab had met eight kings in his life, when his father was hired to fight for them, and he knew that traditional princes put attention and effort into their appearance. But Ahab had been raised in military tents, encampments near whatever battlefield his father was on that season. He wore his coarse black hair long, like military men, keeping it pulled back and out of reach. He had dark eyes that startled people with their intensity, just as his father's did. He knew his eyes gave the wrong impression, though. He was nothing like his father, not so fierce and cold. He did not like to watch men die.
He spoke very little around his father or around any older man. When he did speak, he had no distinct accent. He didn't move his hands when he spoke, an old habit from the battlefield that helped him avoid attention, which added to the intensity others thought they saw in him. He had been too young to go into battle that first year his father had forced him along and had tried to keep very still as the arrows shrieked through the air outside his tent. The habit of stillness stuck.
Ahab and Obadiah watched the puppies eat, and then the mother stuck her muzzle into each bowl, licking the sides clean. She looked up at the men, then slunk back into the night, her brood following.
Obadiah used his foot to turn over a rock on the ground. A fat glistening spider scurried out, and Obadiah took a step back. Ahab crushed it with his sandal. Obadiah walked back to the fire, and Ahab looked at the dark horizon to the north. Tomorrow he would be in Phoenicia.
In two days he would meet his bride.
Despite everything he had read, the road to Phoenicia was surprisingly ill kept. For all their legendary knowledge, all their wealth and prestige, Phoenicians kept terrible roads. Obadiah worried that the stories he had read about the Phoenician empire might have been exaggerated. Roads this poor couldn't lead to one of the wealthiest kingdoms on earth. The scouts had to move stones all morning to save the hooves of the animals. Tall green grasses sprouted in clumps right in the middle of the road. The land was infested too. Gnats flew into everyone's eyes, even those of the donkeys and horses, and mosquitoes had left hot red welts on everyone's arms and calves. Obadiah would not say it to any of the men he traveled with, but sleeping inside the Phoenician palace would offer him relief. Even if that palace symbolized the spiritual suicide of his own home, Israel.
Obadiah sighed as the donkey plodded steadily along. He understood the appeal of this marriage, at least when he put it into writing, in the Annals of the King. Phoenicians wanted trade with the southern kingdoms, including Israel and even Egypt. Israel wanted to sell crops and gain access to the greatest maritime fleet in the world. Phoenicians were legendary sailors and boasted the busiest ports with the best goods, but they couldn't grow their own food. Their land, Obadiah had once read, was unsuitable. He understood the words in a new way now, patting his donkey as she tripped over another rock.
Though exhausted from lack of food and poor sleep, he kept careful watch all morning, right past the noon hour, lest one of the younger servants or women suffer injury from a stumbling beast. The official wedding party consisted of twenty men, including the king, Omri; his son, Ahab; and eight of his military officials. The other ten men were elders who could conduct private meetings during the visit and arrange the first series of trades. Obadiah, of course, didn't count himself in the twenty. He offered neither advice nor assistance. As administrator, he was nothing more than an official scribe, and he hardly felt like a man in this elite company. Split between this band of men was a traveling army, half to ride ahead and half to follow behind. He prayed they would not need the security, but when the princess returned with them, it would be a wise precaution.
Four women traveled with them too, daughters of the elders; they would serve as maids for the new princess. They would help her acclimate more quickly and save Ahab from having to explain everything about her new home. One of the women was Mirra. Just thinking that name made his heart tense. He wished Ahab would keep better watch over her, so he would not have to see her face. But Ahab rode near the front with his father, and neither of them ever glanced back. Obadiah reached up occasionally and touched the scar on his cheek. Amon, Mirra's father, had given it to him years ago, when Obadiah was running messages for the court. He had brought a message to Amon, but when he saw Mirra for the first time, he lost all ability to speak. Since he had no ability back then to read or write, the message was carried by mouth. Seeing him mute, Amon backhanded him, striking him with his fat signet ring. Mirra hid behind the folds of her father's robe, her face twisted in sorrow. She had nodded to Obadiah, just once, and lifted the sleeve of her own robe. She was covered in welts. Obadiah grew to love his scar almost as much as he loved her. He had taken her father's fury and spared her one welt.
The wedding party was finally on the last portion of the long march up toward the gates of Sidon, the jewel of Phoenicia, so near the sea that they could smell the sharp tang of brine. The sky darkened, but sunset was hours away. A storm was building. The air took on a heavy, sweet smell; the trees that grew with thatched trunks began waving their fronds in the wind. Where stones had littered the path this morning, he now saw broken shells lining the road. A few of the women stopped and picked them up, clearly delighted. This was a new world to them, too. Mirra did not get down from her donkey. Her father, ruler of Samaria and the richest man in Israel, had already given her every treasure imaginable. But she looked bored. Obadiah knew that serving another woman would be hard for Mirra, pampered daughter of Amon, who was second only to King Omri and his son, Prince Ahab. Obadiah prayed that Jezebel would never hit her.
He scanned the edges of the path as the women turned the shells over and over in their hands. They were surrounded by impassable hills, which he had read should keep them safe from attack, but he had an uneasy feeling. He didn't know how to respond to it, except to look for predators lurking behind the trees. He glanced ahead. The last of the men was still visible, but Obadiah would have to hurry the women along.
He turned to call to them. Mirra was gone. Her donkey had wandered toward a clump of grass and nudged it with his nose, testing it for flavor, perhaps.
Obadiah's heart lurched into his throat.
He saw her walking toward a cave about twenty yards from the path, its black mouth yawning wide. He motioned for the women to remount and join the men. He wanted them with men who knew how to handle a sword. Then he jumped from his donkey and went after Mirra. She had disappeared inside the cave.
He hesitated at the edge of its darkness. A strange sound came from deep within. Inside, he saw Mirra strain her neck in either direction, trying to discern where the sound came from. She did not look surprised to see him entering the cave. Perhaps the wealthy were never surprised to see servants following just behind. But he did not enter the cave because he was a servant. Silent, Obadiah held his hand out to Mirra, willing himself not to tremble at her touch.
She looked at his hand, not moving, and their eyes met. He broke the gaze first, studying the little pool of water that lapped at her feet, illuminated by the light breaking in from above. The only other sound was the steady rasps of his breathing. Obadiah thought he sounded like a brute animal in the darkness. He hoped he did not frighten her.
"I'm not running away," she said. Obadiah looked at her again. She frowned at him, standing there with his hand outstretched. He felt foolish. Other men knew how to command a woman.
"I just wanted a moment to myself," she said, "a moment of freedom, I suppose. But what could you know about freedom? You're a servant."
The wounds her words inflicted were exquisite. Obadiah's chest burned with the delight of being spoken to, of seeing her mouth form words meant for him alone. If only she had said his name! But she did not know it. She never paid him any attention when she came to court. He had stayed hidden like a good, and invisible, servant, and she had kept her eyes downcast whenever her father presented her to Omri. He doubted she even remembered that day so long ago when he had suffered for her.
She had no idea how beautiful he found her, with her long black hair, unbraided and loose tonight. Her mother was not here to force her to wear it up. She complained to the other girls when she thought no one listened, saying such long hair was heavy and the tight braids gave her headaches. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but a small traveling party meant he heard a good bit more than he ever had before. Women were full of complaints and completely blind to their own allure—Mirra especially, with her generous pink mouth that he always fantasized was bruised from his kisses. He dreamed of resting a finger against it, of knowing if it was as soft as he imagined.
She turned to move deeper into the darkness. "I heard something."
The air whipping into the mouth of the cave turned cold. It lashed at his calves, picking up the edge of his robe. A great shadow must have passed across the sun at that moment, because the cave turned dark, darker than when they had entered. His flesh crawled for no reason he could explain.
"We have to go back, Mirra. Right now."
She turned her head back to him, a sly grin on her face. "You know my name. Do you belong to my father?"
Obadiah looked at the ground, embarrassed.
Mirra shook her head and stepped away from him again, her foot landing on something that crunched and shifted under her weight. She bent to inspect the material, and Obadiah rushed forward, grabbing her arm. It was a strange instinct. She glared at him, at the insult of a servant's touch.
Obadiah dropped her arm and bent his head.
The floor of the cave was covered in soft, chalky stones and twigs, thousands of little hollow pieces that snapped and disintegrated beneath their feet into fine dust. Obadiah tested his growing dread by taking a few more steps.
Mirra bent down to pick one up and hold it to the light. Fear made his stomach tight and cold. He reached down too, to pick up a tiny flint no bigger than the tip of his finger. It split in two between his thumb and forefinger, a tiny bit of marrow smearing across his fingertip.
"Birds?" she asked. She looked above her for signs of bats. She wrapped her arms around herself.
His eyes grew wide as he picked up another one. It broke in half and fell. He scooped up a handful and held them to the light.
"Oh, no," he groaned.
He held out one tiny speck about the size of a grain of rice. He had to be sure. Mirra squinted to see it.
"Get out!" he commanded. His tone shocked him. He didn't look at her to see what impact it had. Obadiah had read about this before, when disease had struck distant lands and the ground was too hard to dig a grave. That's all this was, surely. He had even read how shrewd merchants scooped up the bones later, grinding them and using them to make the blackest ink. The best ink, and the irony was not lost on Obadiah, whose greatest treasures were his scrolls, written by those long dead. Writing was always tinged with death. He had read so much about death, but never held it.
Obadiah pointed to the mouth of the cave. "Go! Join the others! Now!"
With a huff of outrage, Mirra left. She had not seen the skulls near her feet.
He waited until she was gone to let his knees crumple beneath him. He staggered, still holding the tiny prize. It was the bone of a newborn. Lightning exploded overhead, and in the sudden sharp illumination, Obadiah saw he was standing in a sea of infant bones, burnt and crumbling. A long brown serpent wound its way across the bones, its green eyes glittering.
He could not run for the light, not until sufficient time had passed. He had to prevent the rumor that Mirra had been alone with a male servant. Instead, he stood still, his breath like thunder in his ears, suspicion destroying the weak hope he had held onto for this marriage. The scrolls he had read, the writings that Ahab had rejected in his haste for obedience to his father, had been right. Jezebel's god ate children, hundreds at a time, newborn or youth, drained of blood or burned alive. Worshipping the goddess meant death. Entire generations died through goddess worship. The people called her Asherah, or queen of heaven. Elijah, the most revered holy man in all of Judah and Israel combined, had called her a serpent.
Jezebel ran the edge of the arrow along her arm. No blood sprang up, which was good. Archery was delicate work, requiring the right arrow and perfect aim. She had practiced for three summers to be able to shoot an arrow on her own. At fifteen, she was better than any man in her father's guard. She was glad she would never need those men again.
She walked along the top of the palace wall until she was at the corner, where she had a clear view of the ground below, and where no guards were posted. Her small, nimble feet moved slowly, and she eased each foot down so that she made no sound. Threading the arrow into its groove, she waited.
Excerpted from REIGN by Ginger Garrett. Copyright © 2013 Ginger Garrett. Excerpted by permission of David C. Cook.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Letter to Readers,
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Reign The Chronicles of Queen Jezebel by Ginger Garrett is a fictional account of Ahab and Jezebel taken from I Kings and II Kings in the Bible. In the Bible, Jezebel was described as a very wicked woman but the author’s imagination just became too much for me. Biblical fiction is one of my favorite genre but I just could not get into this book, in fact I was not able to finish it. I was really looking forward to reading the book but it was a disappointment for all the sacrificing of babies and the vivid descriptions of the worship of Baal just became too depressing for me to continue reading. I read over half the book and I will say that it was well written with the plot and characters being well developed. Just too well developed for my taste. It was obvious that the author did a lot of research before writing the book. I have read the story of Jezebel many times in the Bible and I know how the story ended. If one is not bothered by reading about infant sacrifices and the sexual perversion of the temple priests, then I could recommend this book. I received a complimentary copy of this book from David C. Cook at Net Galley in exchange for an honest review. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.
I did force myself to actually finish this book. Writing style fell short. No substance and scattered. Focus on sacrifice. Focus clearly shows the authors hatred... can not recommend this book at all. Description of content shows promise, but never delivers. I have read thousands of books.... this has been the WORST one Ever. Least amount of historical fact, most amount of crap.
Reign The Chronicles of Queen Jezebel By Ginger Garrett There are many versions of the reign of Queen Jezebel but you have not read one like this. Trust me you will not skip a page or want to retire to bed. This is an exciting tale with biblical detail. Who says the bible is boring? I challenge you to read this version you will be surprised. I had the the privilege to read Chosen and Desired too I am unable to decide which is the best. Well written and thoroughly exciting. FIVE STARS for my review without bias.
Ginger Garrett in her new book, “Reign” Book Three in the Lost Loves of the Bible series published by David C. Cook gives us The Chronicles of Queen Jezebel. From the Back Cover: Discover the woman behind the villain From the moment her marriage to Prince Ahab thrusts her into the intrigues of palace life, Jezebel’s exotic beauty opens doors and her will breaks down walls. Torn from her homeland and wed to power in a strange country, Jezebel vows to create a legacy and power all her own. Some might call her a manipulative schemer, bent on having her way. But they don’t know the whole story, and she was much, much worse. As she moves through the halls of power, her heart struggles between devotion to the gods she worships, the prince who loves her, and her thirst for revenge. She sparks a battle between her strangely powerless gods and the God of palace administrator Obadiah—a God who confronts her with surprising might. She will fight, though victory may cost her everything. I have to admit I came into this book with just a little fear after all Jezebel is the most wicked woman in The Bible and I could not imagine a story based on her. I mean why? Especially when she is so evil? I should not have feared Ms. Garrett did a memorable job of showing her villainy and also gives us her background as to why she becomes what she becomes. Not too many authors will delve into a character’s background the way Ms. Garrett did both Jezebel and Ahab’s backgrounds. She shows us how their upbringings forged their adult lives. It is dark and frightening and clearly shows us what our lives can become without God in them. Ms. Garrett has done a good job in bringing a tough character to life and is to be commended for her efforts. Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from David C Cook for this review. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
This books is amazing in its richness of detail. Israel really came alive for me. Not only that, but the human portrayal of Jezebel was a refreshing one. Often I read of the typical villain; evil to the core. This character, while not the most sympathetic was real, with true reasoning behind her actions. My problem with this story was that I did not like Jezebel as much as I wanted. She was truly the Jezebel of the Bible, committing all the same acts. It was great to be true to who she had been, but it kept this from being 5 stars.
This was an amazing book and I enjoyed reading it. Ginger Garrett drew me into this story and did not let me go until the last page; she made you feel what each character was experiencing. There were time when I felt sad for Jezebel and times were I was angry with her; The Reign humanized these biblical people for me and let me know that there was so much taking place during that biblical era. From reading this I know that we must trust in God and not put our trust in idols, whatever those idols maybe in your life. I received a free copy of this book courtesy of TBCN for my honest review.
The name Jezebel brings to mind many things such as loose women, painted ladies. But Jezebel could also be described by words such as moody,manipulative and murderous. She would stop at nothing to have what she wanted, including sacrificing her twin sister to the Goddess Asherah. Reign: The Chronicles of Queen Jezebel is the latest historical fiction novel in the Lost Loves of the Bible Series by Ginger Garrett. It shows that a lot of research went into writing this story. The fiction has been woven so neatly into the historical facts that is hard to tell where the facts stop and fiction begins. What a wonderful story Ginger has given us. I am so looking forward to reading the other books in this series. I received a copy of this book through the Book Fun Network in exchange for my honest review.
Reign is the fictionalized biography of the notorious Jezebel of the Bible. The story opens with Jezebel’s hatred of her twin sister and shoving her to her death in a sacrifice. The story unfolds through the point of view of Jezebel, her husband Prince Ahab, and Obadiah, a palace administrator. What makes this novel unique is the fact that the main heroine is abhorrent to our modern day sensibilities. As queen, she promotes murder and sacrifice, killing infants, rampant prostitution, the drinking of blood, worship of numerous gods, and pure evil. You will not like her, a most unusual predicament for most readers. Yet the story, although slow in places, was compelling and shocking enough to hold my interest. I love a good villain - the more vile, the better. Well written and woven with intriguing historical details, this novel was a very unusual, but interesting read, one that is still haunting me.
Mesmerizing, gripping, haunting . . . These are just a few adjectives that come to mind when attempting to describe Reign: The Chronicles of Queen Jezebel by Ginger Garrett. Reign presents a captivating portrait of the complex woman who was Israel's infamous queen, told in 1 Kings 16-22. Summary From the moment her marriage to prince Ahab thrusts her into the intrigues of palace life, Jezebel’s exotic beauty opens doors and her will breaks down walls. Torn from her homeland and wed to power in a strange country, Jezebel vows to create a legacy and power all her own. Some might call her a manipulative schemer, bent on having her way. But they don’t know the whole story, and she was much, much worse. As she moves through the halls of power, her heart struggles between devotion to the gods she worships, the prince who loves her, and her thirst for revenge. She sparks a battle between her strangely powerless gods and the God of palace administrator Obadiah—a God who confronts her with surprising might. She will fight, though victory may cost her everything. My thoughts "Jezebel held her sister by the shoulders at the edge of the fire pit. Priests surrounded her, dancing and calling to the goddess, their red robes stirring the dust, raising a filthy veil around them. . . . Jezebel let her sister go." With Jezebel's sacrifice of her twelve-year-old twin sister to the Phoenician goddess Asherah, Ginger begins the story of an evil, abhorrent character and pulled me into a story that I could hardly put down. The story is told through three voices: Jezebel and Ahab, who were united in a political marriage that was beneficial to both Phoenicia and Israel, but forbidden by God - and Obadiah, a Hebrew palace administrator, whose purpose was "to bear witness in evil days, and yet believe that the Lord was good." But they're really just minor characters in a story that is all about Yahweh and Baal. Ginger has done her research well and doesn't shy away from painting a vivid picture of Phoenician Baal worship and it's growing hold on Israel through Jezebel's power and influence. "Who could believe that a prosperous people living in freedom and beauty could murder their infants, could whore their youngest women, could worship demons and drink blood?" One thought kept entering my mind as I read, and that is how much the events recorded in 1 Kings mirror our times. Plurality of gods, tolerance, desensitization to sin, killing of unwanted infants? Just look at some of the characters' words and thoughts: Jezebel: "We call our gods by different names, but do we not all want the same thing?" And mosaics on the temple floor honored all gods, not just Yahweh. In reference to the sacrifice of infants: "What had seemed so unnatural and evil the first time she had witnessed it had become good and right to her over time." Obadiah: "These temples would always stand, somewhere, whenever people preferred pleasure to truth." The story of Elijah and the priests of Baal on Mt. Carmel is told beautifully in this novel. In the words of one of the Hebrew men: "God's love rages as fiercely as His anger, and He will not suffer long one who leads His children into danger. He moves among us and will not long be silent." Ginger is known for creating novels and nonfiction resources that explore the lives of historical women, and I am eager to read more of her work. Reign rises above the biblical fiction genre and I highly recommend it to all readers. Reign is technically the prequel for the novel Dark Hour, the story of Jezebel's notorious daughter, Athaliah, in 2 Chronicles 21-23. To learn more about Ginger and her books, visit gingergarrett.com. This book was provided by David C. Cook through BookFun.org in exchange for my honest review.
Biblical Fiction "Reign: The Chronicles of Queen Jezebel" is fictional, based on the biblical story of Queen Jezebel and King Ahab, betrothed as a union between two nations. Jezebel was the daughter of King Eth-Baal who reigned in Phoenicia where the practice of worshiping gods and goddesses demanded the sacrifice of infants and children. Ahab was the son of King Omri of Israel, the land of Yahweh, a land of armies. Obadiah is a servant to Ahab, and serves as his administrator. His role in this story is one whose advice to Ahab is unheeded, and he is too timid to command respect. His relationship with the prophet Elijah is valuable, but his lacking strength of character fails him and his allegiance to Ahab. Jezebel, unloved and neglected as a child, became a vicious woman, scorned by all, including her husband. Ahab was not a born leader, and as he ignored Yahweh's warnings Israel suffered great tragedies. Jezebel's wickedness and mean spirit only brought hatred and disrespect. Her beauty was her only attribute. Her hateful spirit positions her husband against her, although he had previously loved her. This fictional tale of the lives of Jezebel, Ahab and Obadiah is an emotional sojourn. The author researched her biblical history well. There were a few slow passages, but the story was well told and interesting beyond what I expected. I was compelled to get my bible out to read the biblical account of this profound story. For those interested in an enhancement of Jezebel's character and influence, this is an excellent portrayal. Disclaimer: I was given an advanced reader copy of this book by Wynn-Wynn Media for my honest review. All opinions expressed are my own and I was given no monetary compensation for this review.
Reign was nothing I expected and I was very disappointed that I could not get into this book as much as I wanted too! I had been looking forward to this book as soon as I heard about it, but sadly I was unable to finish it. I am unsure how much of Jezebel's story was historically accurate, but it was too dark and morbid for me. I understand that the Phoenician culture did sacrifice infants, but it was too much for me when Jezebel tried to kill her own child because she hated it so much. Once I got to that part it did me in and I will not finish it. I know that women do abort their children, but I do not want to read a novel of a women who hated her body so much and the human growing in her that she would do almost anything to destroy it. The story overall was interesting based on what I had read, but again it was too dark and morbid for me to keep reading with the infant sacrificing. I know there was this kind of sacrificing during this time, but it overwhelmed me and left me too depressed about it for me to read the second half of the book. Some people might truly enjoy the story line and will not be effected by the description of infant sacrificing and temple worshiping through sexual means, but unfortunately I did not. I received this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Baby killing monster . A devil worshipper that brought demon entities into Yaweh's most beloved land. May she rest in hell.