Read Eve: In the Beginning Online
Authors: H. B. Moore,Heather B. Moore
Tags: #Adam and Eve, #Begnning of the world, #Bible stories
Eve: In the Beginning
Copyright © 2014 H. B. Moore
E-book edition
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles. This novel is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Interior design by Heather Justesen
Edited by Kelsey Allan, Micala Downs and Melissa Marler
Cover design by Rachael Anderson
Cover Photo Credit: 2014 © iStock.com/Olena Vizerskaya, #13310899
Published by Mirror Press, LLC
eISBN-10: 1941145396
eISBN-13: 978-1-941145-39-5
Finding Sheba: An Omar Zagouri Thriller
Beneath: An Omar Zagouri Short Story
Esther the Queen
Daughters of Jared
Abinadi
Alma
Alma the Younger
Ammon
The Out of Jerusalem Series
Publications under Heather B. Moore
Heart of the Ocean
The Fortune Café
The Boardwalk Antiques Shop
The Aliso Creek Series
The Newport Ladies Book Club Series
A Timeless Romance Anthology Series
For my mother, Gayle Brown, a noble daughter of Eve.
I’ve been writing historical novels based on scriptural characters for many years. When I decided to look for a female heroine in the Bible for my next subject, it seemed to make sense to write about Eve, our first mother. Through researching Eve and Adam, I became impressed with their noble characters and their difficult and brave choices. This novelization is not meant to represent any specific religious organization or religious doctrine. The plot points are a compilation of various theories with added fictional elements and do not necessarily represent my personal religious beliefs.
There are yet many unknowns about the life that our first parents led in the Garden of Eden. I believe that one day our questions will be answered, yet the purpose of this story is not to answer those questions, or even speculate on new possibilities. I wrote this story to bring to life an incredible man and woman who sacrificed immortality to start the human race … A man and woman I esteem as my first parents and will be eternally grateful for.
In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.
Genesis 1:1
“We can’t live like this forever,” I say.
“Yes, we can.” Adam’s fingertips brush my bare arm.
We are lying on our backs, looking up at the golden-green leaves that filter just enough of the sun’s rays to make the air only a warm, fragrant whisper around us.
A quiet afternoon in our unending days of tranquility.
I close my eyes as Adam’s fingers stray along my arm, moving down to my wrist, until his long fingers interlace with mine.
Serenity.
I tell myself that I want nothing more than to lie in the cool grass next to Adam, surrounded by sweet flowers while listening to the melody of the nearby stream.
I could stay here forever with him. And perhaps we have. Time moves forward, yet it never seems to move at all. The garden never changes. Even the fruits stay the same, never growing old. We never change.
I don’t desire to change anything ... not really. But the thoughts press against my mind — thoughts that have been more and more frequent over the past moon — until I have to speak again. “Do you really want to stay here forever?” I say. “I mean the garden is lovely, but ...” My thought hangs in the air between us.
Adam rolls over onto his side and tugs my hand to his lips, pressing his mouth on my knuckles. This captures my attention. He smiles when I look at him, his eyes changing with the light — first green, then darker. His hair is nearly black today, although I know out of the shade it will glow bronze — a bronze that extends to his skin, matching the color of my own. Our bodies are different though, as must be between a man and a woman, and I’ve been curious more than once to know why.
Everything with Adam has always been mysterious.
This is why I find myself thinking more and more about what it would be like to
know
.
I get lost in Adam’s gaze for a moment, forgetting my questions, although I’ve heard his answers many times. Of how Elohim commanded Adam not to eat the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Of how we may freely eat the fruit of any tree, except for that one.
In fact, Adam refuses to even go near the tree of knowledge of good and evil. When we are in the center of the garden, he passes by it quickly on the path and will delay only if I persist. Most of the time, I visit the tree alone.
“Eve, you’re frowning,” Adam says in his low voice.
I love his voice — its deep richness vibrates through my body. He is the only man I know, the only man I ever see, but I can’t imagine any other creature ever sounding this beautiful.
“You’re not listening.” I hold his gaze so he knows I’m serious.
It doesn’t change the smile on his face. He tightens his fingers around mine, and I feel the heat radiating between our palms. “I always listen to you.”
To test him, I say, “Come with me to visit the tree.”
He pulls away and sits up. He’s not looking at me now, nor is he smiling. “Nothing will change,” he says in a quiet voice.
Despite his words, hope blossoms in my chest. “I know.” Adam is determined and stubborn, but I can be more so, though I know when to push and when not to.
I stand and hold out my hand. He grasps it in his, flesh to flesh, and I am grateful he is making this exception as he stands tall next to me. He leads me through the garden, and we pass tree after tree and thick bushes of flowers, weaving our way as our bare feet tread on the soft undergrowth and warm earth path. The scents reach out to me one by one, full and fragrant, some sweet, others sharp, until they blend together and are carried away by a breeze. We cross a sloping meadow, where the sun touches our bare skin from head to foot.
The leaves rattle around us, moved by the breeze that blows my hair against my cheek. Adam reaches over and brushes the long strands of honey brown from my face, his touch gentle and tender. I smile up at him, and he squeezes my hand.
Today he is indulging me. Today perfection will outdo itself.
The walk is not far, but it seems to take a while since Adam is in no hurry. He doesn’t spend as much time in this part of the garden — past the two rivers, over the hill of crimson flowers, and next to the grove that contains the tree of life — as I do. But it isn’t the tree of life that I want to see today.