I Was Born For You"

At Last I Took One Big, Callused Hand And Slid Forward So I Knelt On The Boards Between His Knees. I Laid My Head Against His Chest, And Felt His Breath Stir My Hair. I Had No Words, But I Had Made My Choice. "'whither Thou Goest,'" I Said. "'i Will Go; And Where Thou Lodgest, I Will Lodge: Thy People Shall Be My People, And Thy God My God: Where Thou Diest, Will I Die, And There Will I Be Buried.' Be It Scottish Hill Or Southern Forest. You Do What You Have To; I'll Be There.

Lord That She Might Be Safe. She And My Children.

No Wonder Men Got Impervious To Superficial Pain, I Thought. It Came From This Habit Of Hammering Each Other Incessantly.

Conflict And Character Are The Heart Of Good Fiction, And Good Mystery Has Both Of Those In Spades.

I Don't Plot The Books Out Ahead Of Time, I Don't Plan Them. I Don't Begin At The Beginning And End At The End. I Don't Work With An Outline And I Don't Work In A Straight Line.