Home Read What's New Join
My Account Login

Read Our Devotional             2016 Opportunities to be Published             Detailed Navigation

The HOME for Christian writers! The Home for Christian Writers!






It's easy to critique the works of others and get your work critiqued. Just follow the steps below:

1) Post your first piece.

2) You must then critique the work of another member to post another piece yourself.

3) For each critique you give, you earn 1 credit that can be used to post another one of your writings.

4) You can build up credits to be used at another time by giving critiques to others.
Our Daily Devotional HERE
Place it on your site or
receive it daily by email.



TITLE: The day the King Came By (2) The beginning
By Rick Musick

The day the King Came By (2) Tells about the beginning of how Hadara became a slave.
The Day the King Came By (2)
(Rev. Rick J. Musick)

To look at her now you would think she had been raised in a palace. She exemplified grace, and glamour. She was radiant! She was not just a pretty lady; she was jaw dropping, head turning, and heart stopping, hard to stop starring at gorgeous. She melted men’s heart with her smile, her eyes were ocean blue, long dark eye lashes, and her lips were full, her skin was copper toned, and smooth as the silk she wore. Elegant. She walked with such poise, not proud, not arrogant, and just confident.
Who was this newlywed queen? Nobody in that part of the Kingdom new her. She was brought in on a slave wagon a long with about ten other female slaves. All the other slaves sold quickly and were bought for a pretty good sum. Most of the others seemed to be well taken care of; they had been house servants, nannies, or hostesses. They were for the most part well taken care of. A few of them were getting on up and years and would be bought as cleaning maids; some were strong and healthy and would be made to work in the fields, or stables. A couple of them were in there early twenties and would be nannies. She was the last one on the auction block. Skeleton skinny, barely five feet in height, shoulders drooped, and the auctioneer had to hold her head up so the crowd could see her face that was horribly thin. Deep dark circles surrounded her eyes that sunk deep into her head. Taunt jaw, clinched teeth, and filthy.
She was an orphan. Displaced as a child due to the death of her parents who were killed in a raid. She was only eight. She had no siblings; she had never met her grand parents. Her family had moved a long way away from there families to start farming. Growing wheat. They had only lived there for a couple of years when there home was destroyed, the crops burned, and her parents killed. She ran, because her mother screamed at her to run! Thus with tears flooding her tiny face, she ran, and continued to run and she never looked back. Fear drove her forward. Her tiny heart was broke. She had nothing. The clothes on her back were all she owned. She had no family, no friends, no connections, no money, and she was lost, hungry and scared.
She wondered into a tiny village, and that is when she met him. His name was Zeev. Which means wolf. She would soon discover that he lived up to his name. He was a huge man, a giant of a man. He had a big thick, black beard that held part of his last meal. He stood close to seven ft. tall, and weighed close to three hundred pounds, most of which was fat. His teeth were brown and nasty. He had not seen a tub of bath water in a while, and his smell was stomach wrenching, his robe was filthy; his hair was wild and bushy.
Zeev first spotted the little girl in the alley rummaging through the garbage behind the village market. She was eating discarded fruits and vegetables as though she was at a feast. Zeev (the wolf) pulled out his long razor sharp knife, looked about to see if anyone was watching. The alley way was empty besides the girl, he walked abruptly behind her, quickly placed his huge hand over her mouth, snapped her off her feet like she was a helpless puppy, and whispered in her ear, “I will cut you in half if you scream!” Her tiny heart pounded in her chest. She could not resist the strength of this giant. She was helpless. He hurriedly threw her up on his horse showing her his twelve inch razor sharp knife; he quickly mounted behind her, and rode off. He looked behind him a couple of times to make sure he was not being followed.
They rode for several hours. Zeev never loosened his grip. His huge arm held her tight against his chest, she could feel his enormous strength, and every now and then she could smell his enormous odor, a few times she thought she was going to throw up her dinner of wilted lettuce and over ripe bananas. They rode into a thicket of pine trees, crossed a small creek, and came to a shack of a house. He brought his horse to a stop, loosened his grip, and helped her off the horse, snarling, “Don’t try to run!” she didn’t she had no place to run, where would she run to? Who would she run to? She simply froze with fear.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.