“What matters is only what’s here. I touch my skin right under my breasts, which is where the little one’s curled, and where he kicks, ‘cau...

“Go, why don’t you go back home,” he mutters, dismissing me with a casual wave of the hand. “Please,” I say. “Let me serve you. You’...

Mom has a soft heart, but she is tough  She is busy — but perhaps, not enough? Give her our novels, the best to be found! In this bo...

“That,” says Bathsheba, “was a private moment. It belongs to me, and to no one else.” “And to me, too,” say I. “I mean, how could I ...

Before I can go back to my writing, my other wife, Ahinoam of Jezreel, leans over my desk with her newborn baby. With motherly pride she...

Wading on foot through puddles and mud, the king starts leading his stallion, and me on its back, towards the path going down into the...

Just this morning I woke up to a surprise: Bathsheba slipped into my bed, wearing a soft, silky robe that glided, ever so smoothly, off he...

“What matters is only what’s here. I touch my skin right under my breasts, which is where the little one’s curled, and where he kicks, ‘cau...