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Feb 4, 2014
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The Wife of John the Baptist
“A woman, in those days, did not count. So even after we were married, people continued to say that John lived alone in the wilderness…
History and fiction merge beautifully in K. Ford K.’s vibrant, breathtaking novel about the mysterious man who became John the Baptist and the woman who loved him, his wife.
fontcover-682x1024Hessa, the daughter of a rich Greek trader, has an unusual talent, but in preparation for her marriage to a wealthy man, she is taught that she will have no real destiny of her own. Instead, she is to be the spinner of her husband’s fate and share his fate to her death. But when Hessa meets a charismatic, young man named John, who is rumored to be a prophet, she falls in love and runs away to marry him.
Thrown into the turmoil of Roman-occupied Judea, Hessa struggles to protect her husband, but what if her actions unwittingly lead to the destiny she fears most?
The Wife of John the Baptist is a novel, rich with historical insight. It uncovers the mystery of a man who was greatly admired in his time, and who changed our way of thinking forever.
A victory of the heart, this intimate portrayal of a marriage is a tribute to the timeless and unshakable love that triumphs when all else is lost.

The Concubine’s Gift
Bernice Babbitt, a sexually inhibited, thirty-nine-year-old woman, leads a peaceful life in the tiny resort town of Valentine, Nevada. Living only two miles from the famed bordello, The Honey Bunny Ranch, she can’t imagine what goes on behind its closed doors.
Things begin to change when Bernice buys an old, black-lacquer makeup case in an antique shop. The case once belonged to Blissful Night, the most famous and powerful concubine in Hong Kong. According to legend, Blissful Night could give a man more pleasure in one night than he would have experienced in an entire lifetime.THUMBNAIL_IMAGE
Inside the makeup case, Bernice discovers a forgotten jar of face powder, the secret to Blissful Night’s success. Thinking the face powder is an herbal concoction that will beautify her skin, Bernice begins to use it, only to find that the powder causes her to see visions of other people’s sex lives.
Bernice is horrified to discover that the only way she can rid herself of the visions is to blurt out sexual advice. Soon the entire town is in an uproar. But it isn’t until Bernice learns more about Blissful Night’s past that she knows what she must do.
The Concubine’s Gift is a delightfully sexy novel in which Bernice Babbitt is drawn into a seductive world she never knew existed. A provocative and entertaining Pandora’s Box of a tale!
A portion of the proceeds of the profits of this novel are donated to foundations which fight against child sex-trafficking.

Om mig
I became a storyteller by accident. It all began in Mexico where I attended university and where I learned to accept the supernatural as a normal part of life. From the revered opinions of the local witch, to the preparation of meals for dead grandmothers, I learned to see the world through different eyes and I came to understand that things are not always what they seem.
Later, on my way to attend a university in France, I traveled to Morocco. I stopped at a marketplace in Marrakesh and while eating my lunch of dates and oranges, I watched a tattered beggar transform himself into a storyteller. He moved with the practiced gestures and fantastic expressions of his trade, surrounded by a growing circle of people who listened to him with eyes wide open, their own lives forgotten. In another culture, at another time he might have been a rich man, but here he was selling beautiful tales for coins in the dusty marketplace. I longed to be like him, this mendicant from Marrakesh.
Years later, I moved to Tokyo to teach and write articles for The Tokyo Weekender Magazine. Every day I traveled the crowded trains, sharing space and breath with millions of strangers.
There amid the crushing humanity, I watched the surreal combinations of east and west in language and life, the painful and beautiful growth that occurs when two cultures collide. I witnessed two public suicides, and felt firsthand not only the temporality of life but also the beauty of a single moment.
The time spent crushed between strangers, doors and windows of the train became a quiet meditative place where I learned to accept life and death. There on that Tokyo train, I began to write novels in my head, while that tattered beggar from Marrakesh, who had captivated me years before, whispered in my ear like a nagging dead man, “Tell me a story.”
K. Ford K. has written numerous magazine and newspaper articles for publications in Colorado, Japan and Hawaii. She is the author of two novels. After living and writing overseas for fourteen years, she now lives in Hawaii.

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