Here is the latest Amazon review of “The Soldier Who Killed a King”:
A very good read! I enjoyed this book and recommend it, bought one for my daughter as well…timely for Easter too. In two words, David Kitz “nailed it!”
— Ruby
As an author, as in much in life, it’s not easy to please everyone. But we can learn from our critics. With that said I am pleased to report that my passion of Christ novel scores very well with readers.
With 62 reviews on Amazon.com “The Soldier Who Killed a King” scores 4.8 out of 5 stars on the Amazon rating system. In Canada with 50 reviews posted the score is even higher at 4.9 out of 5 stars. Numbers like that are rare in the literary world.
Maybe there’s some star inflation going on? Maybe readers are being too generous? But maybe Ruby is right. Maybe the readers have nailed it? You won’t know the answer to that question unless you read the book for yourself.
And… with Easter fast approaching, now is the ideal time to do just that.
To read more reviews and purchase in the USA click here.
To read more reviews and purchase in the Canada click here.
you are watching a movie, but a 4D movie. (This would make a great Broadway play.) It puts you in the scene. You taste and feel and smell. You are transported back in time. You get to really know the characters as if they were people living on your block. You travel back in time to the first-century world and experience it all.
compelling imagery and believable dialogue and action. The rereading of this last week before the crucifixion of Jesus was a moving reminder of what He suffered for me. Readers of Biblical fiction will not want to miss The Soldier Who Killed a King.
“I wasn’t too sure myself at first. I knew he said this as a rebuke to the high priest and the religious establishment. Everyone there knew he was telling this story against them. But later I asked the man beside me what he thought Jesus meant by this parable. He said the landowner was God, the religious leaders were the renters, and the servants who came to collect the rent were the prophets of the past. We just weren’t sure who the son was. I suggested that Jesus himself might be the son. But he just looked at me like I was a complete idiot, shook his head, and said, ‘God doesn’t have a son.’ I kept my mouth shut after that.”
The child was racked with consumption. The disease was consuming her, consuming her body, and with it a mother’s hope until none was left. The toddler didn’t stir a muscle as Jesus looked into her fevered young eyes.
seen this beggar boy about the city many times. Their eyes engaged for a moment. The prophet gave a slight nod of his head—a signal for the boy to advance. He did so with haste. His right leg dangled loose like the limp rags he was wearing. The staccato scrape of his crutch on the stone floor echoed through the hushed courtyard. Eager determination marked his every move. In moments he stood before Jesus. His right leg was easily six inches shorter than the healthy left leg. The absence of any muscle in this stunted limb was painfully obvious, even at a distance.
