The Terminal ATC Training Guide: Insights and Strategies from a Veteran ATC Instructor
In The Terminal ATC Training Guide, Randolph Arslanian draws on his extensive experience as an air traffic controller and instructor to provide a practical guide to training, certification, and professional development. Written for aspiring controllers, trainees, and experienced aviation professionals, the book presents a structured approach to mastering the demanding responsibilities of terminal air traffic control. Arslanian’s central philosophy is that successful controllers must develop the knowledge, discipline, situational awareness, and judgment necessary to manage aircraft safely and efficiently. As he explains, “Ultimately, Air Traffic Control is the coordinated use of time and space.” This principle informs the book’s approach to understanding airspace, anticipating aircraft movements, and making timely decisions under pressure. Throughout the guide, Arslanian emphasizes that becoming a capable controller requires a sustained commitment to learning and a genuine passion for aviation.
The book’s eighteen chapters follow the progression of an air traffic controller’s training, beginning with educational preparation, memorization techniques, and communication before moving into increasingly complex operational responsibilities. Arslanian provides specific strategies for learning facility procedures, developing mental imagery, practicing standardized phraseology, and retaining the substantial amount of information required for certification. His discussion of layered listening, which involves processing and prioritizing information from multiple sources simultaneously, is particularly useful in illustrating the cognitive demands of the profession. The technical chapters address flight data and clearance delivery, ground control, local control, instrument flight rules, radar operations, visual separation, and approaches. Drawing on situations encountered throughout his career, Arslanian explains how controllers can organize traffic, anticipate conflicts, manage runway capacity, and adapt their techniques to changing operational conditions. His emphasis on preparation and visualization connects the book’s educational principles to the everyday realities of working in an airport tower or radar facility.
One of the book’s most compelling themes is the relationship between effective instruction and the development of independent judgment. Arslanian considers certification a progressive process in which trainees build confidence through preparation, repetition, constructive feedback, and exposure to increasingly demanding traffic conditions. “The first goals are accuracy, then volume,” he writes, establishing a clear priority for developing operational proficiency. He also examines the instructor’s responsibility to recognize individual learning needs, encourage improvement, and gradually allow trainees to exercise greater independence. Beyond the technical aspects of training, the book addresses the physical and psychological demands of air traffic control, including irregular schedules, fatigue, emotional discipline, and the importance of maintaining a balanced life. Arslanian’s direct, energetic writing reflects his personal investment in the profession. His recurring emphasis on teamwork, humility, and continuous improvement reinforces the idea that a controller’s professional development extends well beyond initial certification.
The Terminal ATC Training Guide is a specialized professional resource that combines technical instruction with the perspective of an experienced mentor. Its principal strength lies in Arslanian’s ability to connect detailed operational practices with the habits and attitudes that support effective performance. His examples of traffic sequencing, communication, airspace management, and on-the-job training give readers a practical sense of the decisions controllers encounter and the preparation those decisions require. The book also makes a broader contribution by emphasizing the importance of experienced controllers passing their knowledge to the next generation, thereby strengthening training programs and supporting the aviation system as a whole. Arslanian’s personal commitment to teaching gives the guide a distinctive voice and a consistent sense of purpose. For individuals considering a career in air traffic control, trainees preparing for certification, and instructors seeking additional training strategies, the book offers valuable professional insight into both the responsibilities of the position and the continuing development required to perform it successfully.
Pages: 120 | ASIN : B0HGTMMSZG
Forgotten Secrets of the Tuscarora Eye: A Hannah Hallie Hawkins History Mystery
D.L. Bush’s Forgotten Secrets of the Tuscarora Eye is a lively, funny, and engaging middle-grade mystery that mixes family history, friendship, and the awkward business of growing up. Eleven-year-old Hannah Hallie Hawkins has had just about enough of fifth grade. Between an embarrassing classroom presentation, a disappointing grade, and a classmate who seems determined to make her miserable, spring break can’t come soon enough. When a family trip takes Hannah, her two best friends, and her little brother to her late great-aunt’s sprawling Victorian house in North Carolina, she gets considerably more adventure than she bargained for. A mysterious Native American blanket discovered in the attic sets her on a quest to uncover a long-forgotten piece of her family’s history, and soon the girls are caught up in a collection of mysteries involving strange noises, coded messages, hidden spaces, and an intriguing boy who seems to know more than he’s letting on.
Bush has a wonderful feel for the everyday absurdities of childhood, and Hannah’s first-person narration gives the story much of its charm. She’s inquisitive, imaginative, occasionally dramatic, and prone to jumping to conclusions, especially when her feelings get hurt. Her friendships with Chan and Aimee are equally entertaining. Each girl brings her own personality, interests, and talents to their adventures, and their teasing, disagreements, and moments of genuine affection feel familiar and believable. Hannah’s precocious little brother, Davey, adds another layer of humor, while the atmospheric old house, cluttered attic, and surrounding North Carolina woods provide an irresistible setting for a mystery. Bush has a knack for weaving amusing domestic mishaps into moments of real suspense, keeping the story moving while making its characters easy to care about.
The historical mystery gives the novel an especially rewarding dimension. As Hannah follows clues through old family documents, a forgotten diary, and an intriguing piece of Tuscarora heritage, she begins to understand how much of her own story remains to be discovered. Her encounters with Atohi and his grandmother bring another perspective to her search, encouraging her to question family legends and look more closely at the people behind them. Bush makes genealogy feel like detective work, full of surprising connections, tantalizing discoveries, and unanswered questions. At the same time, Hannah’s growing fascination with her ancestors runs alongside her struggles with insecurity, jealousy, and the changing dynamics of friendship. The two journeys come together naturally as she gradually discovers that understanding where she comes from can help her feel more confident about who she’s becoming.
What makes Forgotten Secrets of the Tuscarora Eye particularly appealing is the warmth beneath its mysteries. Hannah’s adventures are filled with the kind of discoveries that can make an ordinary childhood vacation unforgettable, from exploring secret hiding places to spending a night in the woods with her closest friends. There’s plenty of humor, a touch of spookiness, and a satisfying sense of discovery as seemingly unrelated clues begin to fit together. The story also offers young readers an inviting reason to become curious about their own ancestors and the stories waiting to be found in family photographs, old letters, and conversations with relatives. Above all, it’s a celebration of curiosity, resilience, and the friendships that help us find our footing when life begins to change. With humor, heart, and a mystery rooted in generations past, Forgotten Secrets of the Tuscarora Eye reminds us that discovering where we come from can change the way we see ourselves.
Pages: 215 | ASIN : B0GD5WV89N
The Madeira Chronicle
Keith Steiner’s The Madeira Chronicle is an entertaining blend of historical mystery, treasure hunting, and modern adventure that takes Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island in a fascinating new direction. The story follows Paul Anderson, a young history scholar whose research uncovers a possible connection between Stevenson’s famous novel and an actual treasure hidden by Blackbeard and his quartermaster, Israel Hands. The treasure in question is an enormous shipment of eighteenth-century Madeira wine, potentially worth a fortune to modern collectors. When Paul discovers letters suggesting that Stevenson may have incorporated clues to its whereabouts into his novel, he risks his academic career to pursue the mystery. Meanwhile, Ailsa MacLeod, a brilliant Scottish archivist with whom Paul shares a complicated romantic history, begins her own search with the financial backing of a secretive London hedge fund. Their competing investigations eventually become a race to uncover a treasure that has remained hidden for three centuries.
Steiner clearly enjoys history, sailing, and the intricate business of putting together a treasure hunt, and that enthusiasm runs throughout the novel. The historical details are particularly engaging, from the realities of eighteenth-century piracy to the extraordinary value of properly preserved Madeira. The novel moves comfortably between university offices, Scottish archives, Southern waterfront towns, and the sophisticated world of high-stakes investment. Paul and Ailsa make an interesting pair, particularly because they’re both intelligent, stubborn, and occasionally spectacularly bad at communicating with each other. Their personal history gives the treasure hunt an emotional dimension, while the supporting characters, especially the eccentric Professor Maddox Rees and Savannah tavern owner Bobby Cole, contribute humor and warmth. Steiner also devotes considerable attention to the mechanics of the search, including historical maps, Bayesian probability, and modern surveying technology. These technical explanations sometimes slow the narrative, but they give the investigation a convincing sense of scale and make its discoveries feel earned.
Readers familiar with Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code will recognize a similar pleasure in watching a contemporary mystery unfold through clues hidden in historical documents and a famous work of art. Both novels invite readers to examine familiar cultural touchstones from an entirely different perspective, and both feature protagonists whose specialized knowledge becomes unexpectedly valuable outside the academic world. Steiner’s approach, however, has a distinctly nautical flavor, drawing heavily on the practical realities of sailing, historical trade routes, and the geography of the American coastline. His use of Treasure Island is especially enjoyable because it encourages readers to reconsider the significance of details in a book they may have known since childhood. The alternating perspectives of Paul and Ailsa also create an effective sense of competition as their separate investigations gradually lead them toward the same destination. When the story reaches its final stages, the painstaking research gives way to physical danger, and the pace accelerates considerably.
What makes The Madeira Chronicle particularly interesting is the way Steiner uses the treasure hunt to explore questions about ambition, personal fulfillment, and the value of discovery. Paul’s struggle between pursuing an established academic career and following his intellectual curiosity gives the adventure a relatable starting point. Ailsa’s financial motivations, complicated by her family circumstances and her changing feelings toward Paul, add another perspective on what a sudden fortune might mean. Even the supporting characters have their own ideas about money, opportunity, and what constitutes a worthwhile life. The novel’s later developments bring these themes together in ways that give the treasure hunt significance beyond its potential financial rewards. Steiner also leaves room for the messiness of human relationships, delivering an ending that combines professional accomplishment, generosity, and lingering romantic uncertainty. With its carefully constructed historical puzzle, colorful characters, and obvious affection for maritime adventure, The Madeira Chronicle is an enjoyable read for anyone who likes the idea that an old book, a forgotten letter, or a seemingly insignificant historical detail might lead to an extraordinary discovery.
Pages: 350 | ASIN : B0HJRWFHGD
A Real Tool For Healing
Where Wounds Live examines how trauma can surface throughout a life and explores how greater understanding, boundaries, connection, and body awareness can support the complex process of healing. How did your experiences in nursing, midwifery, and trauma-focused work shape the way you approached the book?
Everything in Where Wounds Live is filtered through hands-on experience rather than theory alone. My path went from occupational therapy into nursing, and then into midwifery, where I spent years on hospital wards and supporting women through labour. That clinical grounding taught me how the body actually holds and releases distress, not as an abstract concept but as something I witnessed night after night. It’s why the book keeps returning to body awareness as a real tool for healing, not just a wellness buzzword.
At the same time, my own path through depression, complex PTSD, an abusive marriage, and later a chronic pain condition and profound grief meant I was living the very material I was working with clinically. Nursing gave me the medical literacy to explain what trauma does physiologically; my own breakdowns and recovery gave me the lived understanding of what it actually feels like from the inside, including the shame and isolation that so often keep people silent.
Midwifery in particular shaped how I think about vulnerability and transition. Supporting people through one of the most physically and emotionally exposed moments of their lives taught me how much healing depends on being truly seen and supported, not fixed or rushed. That’s the same principle I try to bring to the book’s approach to boundaries and connection: healing isn’t a solitary, purely cognitive process, it happens in relationship, often through the body, and often slowly.
Later work as a trauma-informed massage therapist, training other practitioners, and serving marginalised populations (including trauma survivors and people with disabilities) reinforced something the book leans on heavily: that clinical knowledge without lived understanding, or lived experience without clinical grounding, both fall short. Where Wounds Live tries to hold both at once, which is really just a reflection of how my career and my personal story ended up intertwined rather than separate.
Why is the question “What happened to this person?” so important to the philosophy behind the book, and how does that perspective change the way we might understand addiction and other coping behaviors?
That single shift in framing is really the spine of Where Wounds Live. Most of us are trained, whether by culture or by clinical habit, to ask “What’s wrong with this person?” when we encounter someone’s addiction, self-destruction, or relational chaos. That question assumes deficiency. It looks at the behaviour in isolation and treats it as the problem to be solved, which almost always leads to shame, judgement, and a kind of clinical distance that shuts people down rather than opening them up.
“What happened to this person?” does something completely different. It assumes competence rather than brokenness. It starts from the premise that whatever someone is doing now, however destructive it looks from the outside, was once the best available solution their mind and body could find to an unbearable problem. Addiction, dissociation, self-sabotage, people-pleasing, the compulsive need to be needed: none of these arise from nowhere. They’re adaptive responses to conditions that were, at some point, genuinely overwhelming, usually because the internal resources for regulating those feelings were never modelled or offered in the first place.
That reframing changes the clinical and personal encounter entirely. Instead of sitting across from someone who needs fixing, you’re sitting with someone whose system found the best solution it could to survive something unsafe. Addiction stops being a moral failure and becomes a downstream consequence of fractured bonds and unmet needs. It also opens the door to real accountability without shame: a person isn’t responsible for the trauma that happened to them, especially in childhood, but they are fully responsible for what they do with that understanding now. Curiosity, not disgust, becomes the starting point, and curiosity is what actually makes change possible, because shame just feeds the cycle it claims to be fighting.
I also lean on Gabor Maté’s thinking here, particularly his challenge to the idea of being permanently “in recovery.” If addiction obscures the self rather than destroying it, then what’s being recovered isn’t some new, healed version of a person, it’s who they always were underneath the coping strategy. That’s the heart of the book’s philosophy: the wound explains the behaviour, it doesn’t define the person.
How can trauma influence areas of life that people may not immediately connect with their past experiences, and how can understanding the origins of a behavior encourage compassion without removing personal responsibility?
One of the central ideas running through Where Wounds Live is that trauma rarely announces itself where you’d expect. Most people picture trauma’s fingerprints on the obvious things: flashbacks, anxiety, nightmares. But it shows up in far quieter, more disguised corners of a life: professional jealousy, imposter syndrome, chronic people-pleasing, perfectionism, hyper-independence, difficulty asking for help, even physical conditions like fibromyalgia or chronic fatigue with no clear medical cause. The book leans on Häuser and colleagues’ finding that a striking majority of people with fibromyalgia report childhood trauma, precisely to make that point concrete: the body often carries what the mind was never allowed to say out loud.
Part of why these connections go unnoticed is that people tend to define trauma narrowly, as overt abuse or violence, and miss what the book calls “the trauma of omission.” Growing up with food, shelter, and safety but without being truly seen, soothed, or accepted for who you are can quietly wire someone toward performance-based worth, comparison-driven self-esteem, or a nervous system stuck in survival mode. Someone who thrives at work while feeling threatened by a colleague’s promotion, or who can’t stop overachieving to feel enough, is often replaying the exact emotional logic they learned as a child, just in a setting that looks nothing like childhood.
That’s exactly why the reframe matters. Instead of asking “What’s wrong with me?” the book keeps returning to “What happened to me?” — because that question locates the behaviour’s origin in something that once made sense, rather than treating it as a character flaw. Understanding that a pattern was adaptive, that it once protected you, opens space for compassion instead of shame.
But compassion isn’t the same as excusing yourself from the work. The book is careful about this line: the wound may not have been your fault, but the healing is your responsibility. A child cannot be held accountable for how the adults around them failed to meet their needs. The adult, however, is fully responsible for what they do with that understanding now, whether that’s a workplace jealousy spiral, an addictive coping pattern, or a habit of over-functioning to earn love. Understanding origin doesn’t hand you a pass; it hands you the information you need to actually change the pattern, with self-compassion instead of self-attack as the starting point. That combination, curiosity about the past paired with ownership of the present, is what makes the healing sustainable rather than just insight without follow-through.
With such a broad collection of topics, how would you encourage readers to use the book in a way that feels manageable and relevant to them?
I didn’t write this as something meant to be read start to finish in one sitting, and I don’t think it should be used that way. The range is deliberate: trauma touches body image, addiction, relationships, professional life, grief, identity, so a single narrow lens would leave most readers’ actual experience out. But that breadth only works if people feel permission to move through it selectively rather than dutifully.
My honest advice is to treat it more like a reference than a novel. Look at the contents, notice which chapter title makes something in you sit up or wince a little, and start there. That reaction is usually information. If “Why Do We Self-Sabotage?” or “The Hidden Burden of Imposter Syndrome” catches your attention more than a chapter on grief, that’s probably where something in you is asking to be looked at right now. Other chapters can wait, or may never be relevant to your particular story at all, and that’s fine.
Each topic is written to stand on its own, with the theory and research grounding it alongside practical, concrete tools, so you’re never required to have read the previous fifty pages to get something useful out of a chapter. That structure exists specifically so the book can meet people where they are rather than demanding a particular starting point.
I’d also encourage readers to go slowly and to let themselves stop. Some of this material sits close to real pain, and pushing through a chapter that’s activating something just to “finish” isn’t the point. Healing isn’t linear, it’s more of a spiral: you may return to a chapter months later and find it lands completely differently once you’re in a different place. Using the book that way, as a companion you return to rather than a syllabus to complete, is exactly how I hope people engage with it. If even one chapter helps a reader make sense of something they’ve been carrying without a name for it, the book has done its job, whether or not they ever read the rest.
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Website
Drawing on her background as a nurse, midwife, and trauma practitioner, Dr. Sam Mishra (hc) brings both clinical precision and hard-won personal experience to some of the most pressing and rarely spoken-about challenges of our time. From the long shadow of narcissistic abuse and the silenced reality of male sexual assault, to addiction, body image, grief, generational trauma, and the quiet revolution of somatic healing – this book leaves no wound unexamined.
Spanning 67 articles across ten powerful themes, Where Wounds Live refuses to simplify what is complex or sanitise what is painful. Instead, it offers something rarer: honest, compassionate, and deeply human understanding. Whether you are navigating your own recovery, supporting someone who is, or working on the frontline of trauma care, these pages will challenge what you think you know – and illuminate what you may never have considered.
This is not just a book about surviving trauma. It is a guide to understanding where it lives inside us, and what it takes to truly come home to ourselves.
Remembering Freedom
In Remembering Freedom, Connor S. Curley takes on a question that shapes nearly every part of our lives: What does it actually mean to be free? His answer begins with an exploration of how we know what’s true, moves through an examination of human nature, and eventually arrives at the relationship between freedom, conscience, and happiness. Drawing heavily on Catholic intellectual tradition, particularly Thomas Aquinas, Karol Wojtyła (Pope John Paul II), and Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI), Curley argues that genuine freedom is rooted in our ability to recognize and pursue what is good. At the center of his argument is the conviction that truth is objective and ultimately personal, because truth finds its fullest expression in God. It’s an ambitious philosophical project that invites readers to reconsider some of their most basic assumptions about knowledge, personal autonomy, and the purpose of human life.
One of the book’s most interesting features is how Curley connects ideas that we often consider separately. His discussion of knowledge establishes the groundwork for understanding the human person as a union of body and soul, while his examination of conscience introduces the idea of anamnesis, an interior recognition of goodness that directs us toward truth. These concepts come together in his treatment of freedom, where he distinguishes the classical understanding of freedom as the pursuit of the good from the modern emphasis on unrestricted choice. Curley draws on an impressive range of philosophical and theological sources, moving between Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas, Descartes, and more recent Catholic thinkers. His use of stories and practical examples, from the tragedy of Oedipus to a soldier’s encounter with a rattlesnake, helps bring abstract philosophical concepts into everyday experience. These moments are especially engaging because they allow readers to see how the questions he’s exploring play out in actual human decisions.
Curley’s writing has the unmistakable personality of someone who genuinely enjoys a spirited intellectual conversation. He’s comfortable challenging prevailing assumptions, questioning established arguments, and occasionally wandering down an interesting philosophical side road. That conversational energy gives the book a distinctive voice, although the arguments themselves can become quite dense. Readers will encounter substantial discussions of epistemology, teleology, natural law, and the operations of the soul, often supported by extended quotations from other thinkers. Curley’s interpretation of modern philosophy is particularly sweeping, and his account of its relationship to contemporary understandings of freedom invites further debate. He also makes clear that his argument proceeds from a Christian understanding of God, an important consideration when evaluating his conclusions. Perhaps the book’s most compelling thread is its insistence that human beings are fundamentally relational. Our freedom, dignity, and happiness are intimately connected to our relationships with God and one another, a theme that gives the more technical philosophical discussions a meaningful human dimension.
Remembering Freedom will likely appeal most to intellectually curious Catholics and other Christians who want to explore the philosophical foundations of their beliefs, especially those interested in Thomism, personalism, and the relationship between faith and reason. Readers who enjoy G. K. Chesterton, Josef Pieper, or John Paul II will find familiar ideas developed and connected in interesting ways. It would also make a worthwhile choice for a philosophy reading group, particularly one whose members enjoy wrestling with challenging ideas and discussing them together. Some familiarity with classical philosophy or Catholic theology will certainly help, and readers approaching these subjects for the first time may want to take the book slowly. Curley’s concluding reflections on intellectual humility and the importance of genuine dialogue offer a fitting destination for the journey. His larger invitation is to approach knowledge as an encounter with reality and with other persons, and to understand freedom as something that develops through the pursuit of truth and goodness. The book is particularly suited to readers who enjoy conversations that continue long after they’ve turned the final page.
Pages: 237 | ASIN : B0GX35TDFW
Finding Lost People
Unbridled Eye follows a U.S. Marshal with remote viewing abilities who investigates barn fires threatening pregnant racehorses and uncovers cartel corruption in the racing world, while learning she doesn’t have to carry everything alone. What inspired the setup of your story?
Having previously lived in El Paso, Texas for almost 20 years, I was on the frontlines of the battles drug cartels continue to wage for pathways into the U.S. for smuggling drugs, guns, and humans. I began writing my first thriller, The Middle Eye in 2011, when working at The University of Texas, El Paso, which is right on the U.S.-Mexico border. After losing some students from Ciudad Juarez to violence, and then a bullet hitting the UTEP campus, I began writing for therapy and for finding a way forward through the inconceivable pain that residents of both cities were experiencing. I utilized controlled remote viewing as a skill set for my protagonist, Penny Larkin, because I knew it was unlikely she could go into Mexico to hunt down suspects. Also, I have this skill myself, and it seemed like a good method for finding lost people or solving crimes as it is already employed in the USA.
Penny begins the story convinced that she has lost her ability to fire a weapon again. Why was that an important place to begin her journey, and what interested you about exploring the emotional consequences of taking lives in self-defense?
In my second novel, Devil Eye, I confront the staggering issue of gun trafficking across our southern border. In all my books, I have two kinds of antagonists, one who is very evil and the other who falls into crime along the border believing this is the only way out of an impossible circumstance. The border has been particularly harmful to young, uneducated men, who fall into the easy money of drugs and guns, and can’t find their way out. In Unbridled Eye Penny Larkin is experiencing an unexpected flash point. Penny’s emotional impasse with firing a gun comes after she has had to kill two criminals, one in The Middle Eye, and one in Devil Eye. I believe we see many books or television dramas where the male wrestles with killing another person, but few mediums exploring how the female handles the taking of a life. This is also in juxtaposition to how individuals in Mexico view and value a human life and how those of us in the United States do. It’s completely different, and it complicates things for Penny, who must deal with the cavalier attitudes of the drug cartels. Can she holster her weapon again?
How does Penny’s complicated history with Leo affect the way she approaches love and trust?
In Devil Eye, Leo Tellez does the unthinkable and while lying wounded in the hospital trying to come to Penny’s defense, falls for the charms of his dead wife’s twin sister. Even though Leo loves Penny, he longs to recreate his relationship with his wife, having spent considerable time at her tombstone, along with that of his infant daughter, Marta. For Penny, this is unforgivable. And this is where the story picks up at the beginning of Unbridled Eye. I found to my surprise, readers are very invested in who Penny chooses for a love interest. Readers became quite angry with Leo Tellez, and thus I carried this distrust into Unbridled Eye.
Can you tell us more about what’s in store for Penny Larkin and the direction of the next book?
In Penny’s new role as a U.S. Marshal, tracking down missing suspects with federal warrants, she is made aware of the inequality in how Mexican women who are arrested at the U.S.-Mexico border are treated compared to men. Most women incarcerated in the El Paso County jail are there for non-violent crimes of drug concealment while crossing the border into the U.S. No one comes to bail these women out. No one visits them. They remain up to one year in jail awaiting trial. On average 10 women a day are killed in Mexico. There is little respect for females there, and few are given the chance to go even to elementary school. The Mule’s Eye, (working title) explores the ever-growing hazard of Mexican women smuggling drugs and other contraband across the border, using more and more precarious means, which threaten their very lives. This time, Penny Larkin teams up with Leo Tellez — but only as professional colleagues– to try and stem the tide of Mexican women risking their lives as drug mules.
Echoes from the Fjord
Avery Wilde’s Echoes from the Fjord, the second Cascadia Mystery, is a murder mystery rooted as deeply in place as it is in plot. Architect Cole Walker returns to the Glass Lodge at Octopus Cove expecting a summer of diving, friends, and work on his new home, only to have that sense of home shattered when Mike Danner is found dead in the water. The details immediately feel wrong: the dive equipment has been put on incorrectly, the suit isn’t properly secured, and the scene looks assembled. From there, the novel becomes an investigation into Mike’s death, but it’s also a story about the community he built and what happens when the person holding that community together suddenly disappears. That makes the mystery feel personal from the start. Mike isn’t simply a body that launches the plot. We spend enough time with him beforehand, including hearing about the recovering fjord and seeing his relationship with Cole, that his death leaves a real absence in the book.
I think what gives the novel its distinctive character is Cole himself. He’s an architect who instinctively thinks in terms of structures, foundations, loads, sight lines, and things that don’t quite fit, so his way of investigating a murder feels like an extension of the way he already understands the world. He also has an unusual sensitivity to other people’s emotions, something Wilde keeps just ambiguous enough to sit comfortably between heightened intuition and the uncanny. That combination makes him especially good at noticing inconsistencies, but the more interesting part is what it costs him. Cole can absorb what other people are feeling more easily than he can express what he’s feeling himself. His friendship with Sam, his grief for Mike, and his attachment to Murphy gradually turn that trait from an investigative advantage into the emotional center of the story. Murphy and Cooper deserve credit here too. The dogs provide some genuinely funny scenes, but they also participate in the mystery in ways that feel earned.
The closest comparison for me is Louise Penny’s Inspector Gamache novels. Like Penny, Wilde builds the mystery around a community where meals, friendships, eccentric regulars, old loyalties, and small observations matter as much as forensic evidence. The Glass Lodge functions a little like Three Pines in that respect: it’s a place readers can imagine returning to even without a murder to solve. Wilde’s version is more strongly tied to landscape and environmental stewardship, though. Hood Canal is constantly present in the novel, from oxygen levels and tidal currents to orcas, diving, old-growth forest, and the eventual conservation of Mike’s land. Early on, Cole reflects on buildings that should belong to the land, and that idea becomes a pretty good description of the novel itself. The mystery belongs to this particular landscape. Move the story to a generic resort or small town, and you’d lose a large part of what makes it work.
What I enjoyed most was how much Echoes from the Fjord is interested in inheritance beyond money. There are wills, property, investments, and competing ideas about who is entitled to what, but the more meaningful inheritances are Mike’s relationships, his environmental work, the Lodge, and the responsibilities people take on after he’s gone. The eventual solution to the murder is satisfying because seemingly minor details from throughout the book finally acquire meaning, but solving the crime isn’t the last thing the novel cares about. It keeps going long enough for grief to change shape, for people to make decisions about the lives they’ll lead next, and for Cole finally to let himself mourn his friend. That choice gives the ending warmth without erasing what happened. Echoes from the Fjord ends up being a mystery about observation, belonging, conservation, friendship, and the strange ways a person can remain present in a place after they’re gone.
Pages: 290 | ASIN : B0HFZQW7CV
Thank You For the Journey
A Maker of Magic follows an Enchanter whose inability to cast magic conventionally pushes him to think outside the box and discover a new way to build magic into weapons and armor. What first inspired Levi Richter and the idea of an Enchanter who struggles to cast magic conventionally?
The idea behind the book came to me during a difficult time. My father died on Christmas Eve in 2023. In the months that followed, I traveled between my home in Virginia and my family home in NJ to help with funeral planning, care for my mom, and handle other issues. Sitting in that empty house, my mind started to turn with grief and love. This story just flowed out of me. I wrote the entire book in those three months. I think Levi came from my own feelings of inadequacy. Since both my father and I served in the military, I created a similar connection between Levi and his father. The villains of the story, the undead horde of the Ebon Abyss, came from my childhood love of Universal movie monsters, like Dracula, the Wolfman, etc. I even had glow-in-the-dark models in my bedroom. I wrote it with family love in mind during a time of grief.
How does Levi’s identity change as he moves from student to inventor, soldier, nobleman, and leader?
Levi always knew he had to step up because of his unique ability. He was different from the others, who deemed him weak. He never thought of himself as a leader or even a true noble son, since he was the third-born. He only wanted to make an impression on Danielle, someone he’d loved since childhood, but soon his crazy ideas began to garner attention. I think that’s when Levi knew he needed to step it up even more. He wasn’t just experimenting for the fun of it. He was finally making an impression and an impact on the kingdom. He soon realized that he had to grow up rather quickly.
How do faith, prophecy, and personal choice interact throughout the story?
I like to think faith is at the heart of all my stories. I put my faith in God to carry me through my journey as an author, and that shows up in the pages of my books. The fact that they’re fighting against an undead horde of the Ebon Abyss brings their faith to the forefront. They’re fighting for the people in this life and the ones who fought and died before them. As a veteran, that’s part of my own history and heritage right there. The Richter family puts their faith in God and each other to get them through this. It’s Levi who has a moment of doubt. Some believe in him, his abilities, and the prophecy, but he isn’t sure. It takes life-and-death situations that threaten his family and friends to make him take it seriously finally.
Will this novel be the start of a series, or are you working on a different story?
Honestly, I wrote this as a standalone as a nod to my parents. My mother passed away eight months after my father, so I lost both within a year. This was my way of saying thank you for the journey. I might do more, but right now it is a standalone.
I am currently working on sequels to my other book series, Corsair and the Sky Pirates and Gwen Iver and Pendragon’s Puzzle. I hope to release the sequels next year. I am also getting ready to publish the fifth and final book in my Forever Avalon series. Forever Avalon was my first published book, so this is the final chapter in that series.
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In the kingdom of Engressia, every gifted child is tested and assigned a path in service to the crown. Levi Richter, youngest son of the Duke of Stormwind, is named an Enchanter at the Dawnstar Academy. Yet unlike the mages around him, Levi cannot cast spells through ordinary means. What others see as a limitation drives him toward a different kind of power: forging magic into devices, weapons, and armor.
Years later, Levi discovers Mysterium, a rare ore threaded with Violet Amerlyte and capable of transforming the way magic is made. His breakthrough could give Engressia a decisive advantage in its endless war against the undead legions of the Ebon Abyss. It also places Stormwind, Levi’s family, and everyone he loves in the path of enemies who will murder, manipulate, and betray to control it.
As an undead incursion threatens Fortress Drakmire and a conspiracy closes around his home, Levi must unite his talents as an Enchanter, swordsman, inventor, and reluctant heir. Alongside the formidable Blademancer Danielle Greyson, he faces vampires, dark mages, political rivals, and the devastating consequences of a feud generations in the making.
To protect Stormwind and end the forever war, Levi must become more than the mage his teachers expected. He must fulfill an old prophecy and prove himself a true Maker of Magic.
