Sandy Esene is a self-professed ancient cultures geek. Traveling to ruin sites around the world is one of her great passions. Over the years, she has traveled to over twenty countries including Greece, Malta, Jordan, Turkey, Belize, Peru, Thailand, Japan, and of course Egypt. When not traveling or writing, Sandy enjoys making jewelry, going to museums, and taking long walks in Seattle parks with her husband and their two miniature schnauzers Ozy and Mandias.

When writing about ancient Egypt Sandy endeavors to represent the history, pantheon of gods, and their myths accurately. She enjoys finding interesting intersections between her story and ancient history. Sandy loves the feeling when she gets lost in the imagined places she creates. She has always been an avid reader but when she connects deeply with her writing it takes her breath away.

Daughter of Maat by Sandy Esene

Alex Philothea's quiet life as a research archeologist changes forever when she is tracked down by a secret society, the Keepers of the Holy and Noble Maat.

Alex's father died years ago during an excavation in the remote Egyptian desert. The circumstances of his death have always been shrouded in mystery. Now the leader of this obscure organization promises to unlock the answers she has been searching for; the only thing she must do is save humankind.

Follow Alex into a world of myth and magic where the lines of reality blur at every turn.



  • "Sandy Esene has written a real page-turner. It's Dan Brown goes to Egypt with a delightful dash of Harry Potter thrown in. A wonderful read and she's got the Egyptology right!"

    – Bob Brier, Author of The Murder of Tutankhamen
  • "If you like Egyptian Mythology and the excitement of Indiana Jones adventures, this book is for you!"

    – Pat Remler, Author of Egyptian Mythology A to Z
  • ". . .Her characters are compelling and her description brings the story to life. Her knowledge of Egyptology is impressive — so much so that it becomes a story within a story and I found myself wanting to know more about the subject. A wonderful debut novel from a skilled author. Excellent!"

    – VoraciousReader, verified purchase, Amazon



Alex slipped out of her seat and made her way past Buxton and into the bland corridor. "What is it?" she asked.

"Have patience. All will be revealed."

As before, they wandered through the labyrinth of hallways and office doors in silence. Alex figured she could suspend her disbelief a little longer. And truth be told, she found it delightfully strange to wander through the empty museum at night. As they strolled through the immense maze of exhibits, her pulse raced with excitement. It was as if they were trespassing on hallowed ground. Around each corner she expected to see a night watchman who would toss them out unceremoniously into the night. Alex couldn't remember the last time she experienced such a giddy enchantment.

If she were able to stand still for a moment and truly listen to the silence around her, she believed she would hear the echoes of the innumerable whispered conversations that layered these grand halls over the years.

Alex's gaze was drawn to a dull glimmer ahead on the floor. Her treasure-hunting instincts kicked in. Like a magpie, she loved found souvenirs. Instead of buying a T-shirt or any other mass-produced trash and trinket, she was always on the lookout for nontraditional keepsakes. Something that would transport her back to the moment she found them.

Alex swooped it up and peered at her new find as Buxton charged on. In her palm rested a single purple-blue crystal bead the size of a robin's egg. It must have fallen off a visitor's bracelet or key chain. Even in the dim light of the hallway it gleamed with a bright radiance. She etched the moment in her mind and then dropped it into her scribe's bag, quickening her pace to catch up with Buxton.

He walked toward a long, gently sloping ramp. Moonlight flooded in at its base. Absent of drafts or the scent of autumn air, the space ahead seemed incongruously open to the night. Alex knew it couldn't be. Museums had stringent climate controls to ensure the proper temperature for the longevity of the art and artifacts housed within their walls. When she caught up with Buxton, the space revealed itself to her. A two-story slanting grid of glass allowed the brilliant light of the full moon to illuminate the ancient sandstone jewel that lay before her. It was a temple under glass.

It was the Temple of Dendur. A gift of thanks to the United States in the 1960s for help in relocating the ancient temples that would have been swallowed by the newly created Lake Nasser, when the Aswan High Dam was completed. The sandstone blocks of the temple glowed in the bright, yet ethereal light that streamed through the massive glass panes.

The design of the exhibition space for the temple allowed visitors to amble in and around the temple. She imagined crowds of clamoring tourists, some chewing gum as they wandered through this marvel, some wondering what they should have for lunch, most without truly experiencing its immense beauty.

She grinned from ear to ear. "Thank you, Buxton. It is truly amazing. But I don't see how this proves anything at all."

"Have patience," he said. "The temple alone is stupendous. However, it pales in comparison to what I am about to show you."