Spy. Fight. Survive.
Mission: The Figueroa Cipher follows two elite teenage spies on a mission that takes them around the globe to locate stolen nuclear launch codes before they can be used to start WWIII. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
The original idea was the bad guy hacked the ICBM system to cause the missiles to self-destruct in their bunkers simultaneously, or change their targets in-flight. When I did research, I found out 1960s technology didn’t exist to perform either function. So I backtracked down the launch sequence to codes used.
James and Dakota’s chemistry really drives the story. How did you develop their dynamic, do they represent different philosophies of espionage or just different personalities?
James and Dakota are different personalities, a variation of “opposites attract.” I’ve attended, as well as performed and directed, a lot of theater since before high school. Their dynamic is probably a conglomeration of characters I’ve seen/played/directed over the years. So when I write, I put them “on stage” in my mind and see what bubbles up.
The book leans into riddles and coded clues. What makes that structure satisfying for you as a writer?
Treasure hunt books are always fun, regardless of genre!
I hope the series continues in other books. If so, where will the story take readers?
The third book takes place in London, Amsterdam, Basel (Switzerland), and the Philippines.
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James Vagus and Dakota Walker are teen agents in America’s covert MIS-X program—trained to think fast, fight smart, and trust no one except each other. What starts as a routine assignment in Rio de Janeiro turns into a global scavenger hunt when nuclear launch codes vanish, threatening to ignite a World War III.
From the streets of Marrakesh to the casinos of Monte Carlo and the deserts of Nevada, every clue draws them deeper into a shadowy world of double agents and false alliances. But when they’re forced to team up with two Soviet operatives—Nadya and Sasha—the line between friend and enemy blurs fast. Can rival spies work together long enough to stop a possible global catastrophe, or will old loyalties destroy them first?
Spy. Fight. Survive.
Love is a Lifetime Commitment
In And It Only Took 100 Years…, you share the trials of your youth, your career in show business, and your enduring love story that has defied all odds. What made you decide to share your story with readers?
Seventeen years ago, our friend Joan Rivers gave a dinner party at her house near ours in Connecticut to celebrate New Year’s. She insisted that we go around the table and each person had to say what they were thankful for. She began by saying she was thankful that her daughter and grandchild were well and happy; a guest from England, who owned a huge farm, was thankful for a splendid harvest; a young man said he was thankful for a puppy he had been given for Christmas. Then it came to me, and I said, “I am thankful that Norman and I have been together for 50 years.” Although we lived openly together, I had never alluded to how long our relationship had lasted in such a public way, and there was a moment of shock and then congratulations. Afterward, the boy who’d talked about the dog came over to me. “I’ve been with the man who is my husband for fifteen years, but you two are an amazing example of what I hope we can become. You really have changed my life.” On the way home, I reminded Norman of the articles we had been reading about young gays committing suicide because they felt there was no future in being gay. “If we are an example, maybe we have the responsibility to tell people how wonderful our life can be….” We wrote a book called “Double Life” about our relationship that is still read today. And recently, I decided to tell my story from age 15 to 100 to show how life has changed for me, from World War II to the present day, as well as for the world I lived in. I hope people suffering from doubts about long-lasting love can take heart from my story and know that it is possible.
You write about figures like Bette Davis, Helen Hayes, and Barbra Streisand without losing your own narrative center. How did you balance telling your story without being overshadowed by theirs?
From the time I was a young actor, I was involved with celebrities in some way. I acted with Maurice Evans, who was a huge star in his time. So was Katherine Cornell when I was in her company of “Antony and Cleopatra”. They were part of my life as I worked with them eight times a week. Of course, they were stars and not my buddies, and they were my bosses, but still, they were part of my everyday life. Helen Hayes became a friend when I wrote “The Snoop Sisters” for television. She and Katharine Hepburn were down-to-earth people with decided tastes and enormous talent. Streisand, I watched grow from a plain young girl to a huge screen star. I worked with young actors like Charleston Heston and Tony Randall before they became stars, and when I turned to casting, actors like Dustin Hoffman or Al Pacino, I came into contact with them before they were stars. My book is not about their lives unless they affect mine in some way. I was in on the beginning of Streisand’s life, but it was part of my development, not only hers. Helen Hayes sent for me from Hollywood, and it affected my life more than hers. My book is my story, and certainly Marlon Brando played a role, but as a supporting player in my story of leaving the New School and taking a small part in the War. But finally, I wrote about what I know – my own life, not the star’s, unless it affected me in some important way.
Your relationship with Norman feels like the emotional anchor of the book. What did you learn about love that you couldn’t have understood earlier in life?
I learned that love is a lifetime commitment. It becomes your family, your friends, your mornings, your evenings, your health, and your sickness. Norman and I married when the law allowed us to, but many years after we had been together. We didn’t need the emotional security, but we did it mainly to join the gay movement into the mainstream. But as I heard the word “commitment” from the woman who married us, I began to cry. I think the realization was dawning on me that she was talking about LIFE, not just being together for passion, attractiveness, fun, and games. This was for life, swearing under the stars and the heavens, but also forever, eternity. That had not been part of the thoughts in my head when I first saw Norman, but they were now what I knew was the truth.
If you could speak to that young boy looking through shop windows, what would you tell him?
I would tell my young self to have courage, be brave, and not be with people who put you down, even if they are your own family. Follow your dream, but remember that sometimes fate will help you along the way. You have to work your ass off all the time – it is never easy. And if you ever get to the point where what you have worked so hard for is not going to work out for you, don’t be afraid to stop and try something else. It’s better than being always disappointed or chasing a will-o’-the-wisp. Never forget that life is love as well as work. Most importantly, God, whoever that is, is there to help you. You are not alone.
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Yet the real story unfolds far from the lights of Broadway or Hollywood. It’s found in his six-decades-long partnership with artist Norman Sunshine, a love story that endured secrecy, prejudice, and time itself. Together they created a shared life filled with beauty, humor, and devotion, proving that the most extraordinary thing of all is the quiet miracle of lasting love.
Only about 0.03% of Americans ever reach 100, and fewer still arrive there with such grace, insight, and gratitude. Reflective, wise, and deeply human, AND IT ONLY TOOK 100 YEARS… is a celebration of work, love, and the mysterious force that binds them-the hard-won truth that, in the end, a full life is its own masterpiece.
Becoming a Badass: From Fearful to Fierce
Becoming a Badass: From Fearful to Fierce is Margie Goldsmith’s memoir of clawing her way out of a childhood soaked in criticism, instability, illness, silence, and fear, then building a life on her own terms through writing, travel, love, divorce, reinvention, and sheer forward motion. The book begins in the “family garden,” where relatives are rendered as flowers, weeds, and strange blooms: Granny Elsa as a hydrangea, her mother as a thorned rose, her father as a yellow carnation, and Margie herself as a cobra lily growing in poor soil. From there, it moves through Paris, painful marriages, career stumbles, Outward Bound, friendships, illness, pancreatic and lung cancer, and finally a hard-won sense of peace that feels less like triumphalism than survival burnished into wisdom.
Goldsmith doesn’t polish people into saints or villains, which gives the memoir its bite. Her mother is cruel and disappointed, but also gifted, thwarted, and once capable of a startling clairvoyant flourish on a bus that leads to a dream apartment. Her father is affectionate enough to waltz with her on his shoes, yet terrifying, inappropriate, alcoholic, and eventually lost to suicide. That doubleness unsettled me in the best way. The emotional honesty has a raw, almost blunt-force quality, especially when she writes about wanting the wrong parent to have died, or about her sister Kathy’s mental illness, with a mixture of anger, pity, guilt, and grief. Those moments hurt because they don’t ask to be forgiven too quickly.
The writing has a conversational speed that suits the life being described: restless, funny, wounded, impatient with self-pity. Sometimes the prose is plain, and the story is quick. But that briskness is also part of Goldsmith’s personality on the page. She keeps moving because movement is how she survives. I loved the recurring garden metaphor because it gives shape to a family system that might otherwise feel unbearably chaotic. I also admired the book’s ideas about courage. It’s not presented as some glossy inspirational state. It’s selling a plane ticket at American Express and deciding to stay in Paris. It’s leaving a marriage because becoming “only his wife” feels like a kind of disappearance. It’s walking blocks after surgery, weak and furious and alive. It’s playing harmonica in public even when you’re not great, simply because joy has finally become more important than fear.
Becoming a Badass has pulse, nerve, and the weathered warmth of someone who has been through the worst rooms and still wants to tell you there’s a door. I’d recommend it to readers who like candid memoirs about difficult families, women reinventing themselves, late-life resilience, travel, writing, and the messy lifelong work of becoming less afraid. Its final gift is the feeling that fierceness doesn’t mean being unbreakable. It means breaking, healing crookedly, and still saying yes to the next strange, beautiful thing.
Pages: 233 | ASIN : B0FQ6S8NXC
The Crash of Worlds
The Crash of Worlds by Alisse Lee Goldenberg is a fantasy adventure about what happens when disaster, grief, politics, magic, and family loyalty all collide. The story opens with the destruction of Coralnoss after Marcus’s warnings are ignored, then follows Zayna as she tries to save what is left of her people, Lucas as he searches for a way to reach her, and Audrina as she faces hard questions about love, duty, and whether she truly wants the throne. It’s a deep fantasy novel, with kingdoms, spells, royal conflict, sea voyages, and magical communication, but its real weight comes from human problems: fear, prejudice, pride, loss, and the need to ask for help.
I like how grounded the book feels, even when the world is full of magic. Goldenberg does not treat the disaster as a quick plot device. Zayna’s chapters linger in the mud, hunger, ruined homes, and the awful silence after a community has been broken. It gives the fantasy stakes a physical heaviness. At the same time, the writing is direct and accessible, which makes the emotional turns easy to follow. Some moments are blunt, but that plainness also works in the book’s favor. Grief is not always elegant. Sometimes it’s just one foot in front of the other, carrying supplies, calming a baby, and trying not to fall apart.
I also found myself thinking a lot about the author’s choices around leadership. Audrina’s storyline is not just about being a princess in love with Gertrude. It’s about the cost of being visible in a world that may not accept you. Her conversations with Navor are some of the warmest parts of the book, and they give the story a tender center. Then there’s the contrast with Parven, whose cruelty shows how family and power can become dangerous when pride is mistaken for principle. The book is curious about what makes a ruler good, but it’s also candid about how institutions fail people. The council ignores Marcus. Coralnoss pays for it. Later, survivors still hesitate to accept help because old fears are hard to shake. That felt painfully believable.
I would recommend The Crash of Worlds most to readers who enjoy character-driven fantasy with royal drama, found family, queer representation, and emotional stakes that matter as much as the magical ones. Readers who like sincere storytelling, big feelings, and a fantasy world built around loyalty and survival will likely appreciate it. It’s best for fans of accessible YA-style fantasy who want adventure, heart, and a reminder that rebuilding after loss is rarely clean, but it’s still possible.
Pages: 282 | ASIN : B0GY65N8BK
The Jezebel Tracks
The Jezebel Tracks is a searching and fiercely theological essay collection in which author Gardner Landry examines family abuse, covert Christian narcissism, addiction, spiritual warfare, and survival through the figures of his grandmother Mema and his father Fred. The book moves from cigarette smoke in a River Oaks bedroom to New Orleans streets, from Houston’s oil-soaked identity to John Kennedy Toole, from the wound of an “anti-father” to the author’s painful conviction that his life was bent by forces both psychological and demonic. At its center is a survivor’s attempt to name what nearly destroyed him, and to insist that evil was not, finally, his destination.
Mema’s Silva Thins and Virginia Slims become more than cigarettes; they become little instruments of poise, entitlement, concealment, and control. The image of her propped in bed, coolly observing that the author is “on a slow burn,” stayed with me because it has the chill of something both intimate and merciless. Landry’s prose can be ornate, even feverish, but at its best, that intensity feels earned. He writes like someone sorting through ash with his bare hands. The essays on Houston and New Orleans give the book needed oxygen, and I admired the way he can turn from family wreckage to civic portraiture, seeing Houston as blunt, masculine, commercial sunlight and New Orleans as lunar, seductive, Catholic, haunted, and alive with ritual.
Landry’s framework of the Jezebel spirit, witchcraft, generational iniquity, and demonic principalities will resonate deeply with some readers and unsettle or alienate others. The book isn’t merely trying to accuse; it’s trying to understand how charm, piety, money, family hierarchy, and fear can form a beautiful cage. The strongest idea here, to me, is that abuse often survives by dressing itself in respectable language. Whether in Mema’s prayer group, Fred’s sadism, the Vanderbilt law school rupture, or the long meditation on John Kennedy Toole, Landry keeps returning to the terrible cost of being trapped inside someone else’s story.
In the end, I came away moved by the book’s strange mixture of anguish, conviction, literary appetite, and hard-won defiance. It’s not a neutral book, but it has the pulse of lived experience and the moral urgency of testimony. I would recommend The Jezebel Tracks to readers interested in memoirs of family trauma, Christian spiritual reflection, narcissistic abuse, Southern place-writing, and essays that risk excess in pursuit of truth. It’s a dark, wounded, intensely personal book, but its final force is not despair; it’s the stubborn, luminous claim that a life can be damaged without being finally owned.
Pages: 281 | ASIN : B0GT21HVWH
La Llorona: The Awakening
La Llorona: The Awakening is a grief novel wrapped in folklore, family drama, and psychological suspense. Mary Romasanta builds the story around Ruth and Mi-Ra, two women tied together by love for the same family and divided by old wounds, cultural expectations, and the kind of pride that keeps people from saying what they actually mean. From the preface’s plain statement, “Grief is an unwelcome guest,” the book tells you exactly where it’s headed: into the rooms grief takes over, and into the strange things people start to hear, see, and believe when loss has nowhere else to go.
What makes the book compelling is the way it treats the supernatural as both literal and emotional. La Llorona and Mul Gwishin aren’t just spooky figures hovering around the edges of the plot. They’re part of how the book thinks about sorrow, motherhood, guilt, and inheritance. Water shows up again and again as danger, memory, temptation, and purification. The scares work best when they feel intimate, like a drip in the dark or a voice calling from just beyond what a character can prove.
The heart of the novel is really Ruth and Mi-Ra’s relationship. Their early scenes are sharp with resentment, especially around family traditions, fertility, food, and John’s attention. Mi-Ra can be cruel, but the book spends enough time inside her grief that she becomes more than a difficult mother-in-law. Ruth, meanwhile, has her own guardedness and ambition, yet she keeps choosing care when bitterness would be easier.
The pacing is intense, especially after John’s death shifts the book from a tense family gathering into a story about survival after devastation. Romasanta leans into big emotions, and the prose often has a cinematic, high-pressure quality: kitchens feel like battlefields, bathrooms become haunted spaces, and ordinary objects take on unbearable meaning.
La Llorona: The Awakening is an emotionally driven novel about how grief can isolate people, distort them, and still leave room for connection. It’s part ghost story, part family reckoning, and part meditation on the stories cultures use to explain pain. Its strongest moments come when folklore and domestic realism overlap, letting a haunted house, a strained marriage, a mother’s envy, and a grandmother’s longing all feel connected. The book stays with the question of whether sorrow will pull its characters under or teach them how to reach for one another.
Pages: 272 | ASIN : B0DQLXJB83
Kindness Is A Powerful Choice
Hop’s Tales: The Kind Bunny is a rhyming picture book in which a school-loving bunny learns to recover from a hurtful remark, reclaim his confidence, and answer cruelty with empathy. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
The inspiration came from everyday moments children experience but don’t always know how to process. I wanted to create a familiar, safe environment where young readers could see themselves reflected. The classroom setting allowed me to explore how a single unkind moment can impact a child’s confidence, while also showing that those moments don’t have to define them. At its heart, the story is about helping children understand that kindness—both toward others and themselves—is a powerful choice.
How did you approach writing Hop’s emotional journey so it would feel tender and true without becoming too heavy for young readers?
It was important to strike a balance between honesty and hope. Children are incredibly perceptive and they recognize hurt feelings. But they also need reassurance and resolution. I focused on keeping Hop’s emotions authentic but gentle, allowing readers to feel his sadness without lingering too long in it. By guiding him toward empathy and self-confidence, the story models emotional resilience in a way that feels empowering rather than overwhelming. The goal was always to leave children feeling safe, understood, and uplifted.
What role did rhyme play in shaping the tone and pacing of the story?
Rhyme played a huge role in making the story feel approachable and engaging. It creates a natural rhythm that helps carry readers through emotional moments with a sense of lightness and flow. For young children especially, rhyme adds a musical quality that makes the story more memorable and comforting. It also helps soften heavier themes, allowing important messages about kindness and empathy to land in a way that feels gentle rather than intense.
What kinds of conversations do you hope this book sparks in homes and classrooms?
I hope it opens the door for meaningful conversations about kindness, empathy, and how our words affect others. More importantly, I hope it encourages children to talk about their own feelings—times they’ve been hurt, or even times they may have unintentionally hurt someone else. In classrooms and at home, this book can be a starting point for discussing how to respond to unkindness with courage and compassion. Ultimately, I want it to reinforce that being kind isn’t just the right choice. It’s a strong and powerful one.
Author Website
Educators teaching social-emotional learning
Classroom read-alouds and discussion starters
Children learning about kindness, friendship, and confidence
Kids who love fun rhymes and lovable animal characters
Key Features:Engaging rhyming text that makes reading fun
Positive messages about kindness and self-confidence
Relatable friendship challenges for young children
Ideal for preschool, kindergarten, and early elementary readers
A thoughtful gift for birthdays, classrooms, and young readers who love animals
A sweet and inspiring story that helps children discover that being kind, brave, and true to yourself is the coolest thing of all.
The Next Generation of Emergency Management: AI, Drones and the Human Element: Building Resililent Disaster teams
The Next Generation of Disaster Response is a forward-looking study of how artificial intelligence, drones, and human leadership are reshaping emergency management. Author Dr. Todd D. Brauckmiller moves from ancient flood-control systems and bucket brigades to Hurricane Harvey, COVID-19, Maui, Rwanda’s drone medical delivery network, and a projected 2035 model of integrated human-machine response. The book’s central argument is clear and steady: technology can map, predict, deliver, and accelerate, but it can’t replace empathy, judgment, trust, or ethical command.
What I appreciated most was the book’s insistence that innovation must remain answerable to human need. The strongest sections are the ones where the machinery becomes intimate: drones finding heat signatures through smoke, AI models warning of wildfire spread, medical payloads crossing impossible terrain, and incident command teams turning aerial maps into triage decisions. I found the discussion of Hurricane Harvey especially compelling because the book doesn’t treat the 300 drones as a shiny statistic. It understands that a map only matters when someone uses it to reach a stranded family. That moral center gives the book its warmth. It’s not afraid of technology, but it’s also not dazzled by it.
The writing is clearest when Brauckmiller blends operational detail with lived perspective. His military background gives the drone chapters a grounded authority, especially when he compares force protection and reconnaissance to civilian search, rescue, and lifeline restoration. The prose uses institutional language, with acronyms, frameworks, standards, and citations crowding the page. The book feels written by someone who has stood close enough to crisis to know that elegant theories collapse quickly unless they can survive mud, smoke, bureaucracy, fear, and bad weather.
I found this a thoughtful, practical, and quietly urgent book about the future of resilience. Its best insight is also its most humane one: the next generation of disaster response won’t be built by machines alone, and it won’t be built by human courage alone, but by disciplined collaboration between the two. I’d recommend it to emergency managers, public safety leaders, drone operators, disaster researchers, policy makers, and students who want a serious but accessible look at where crisis response is going and what values must guide it when it gets there.
Pages: 122 | ASIN : B0G7XGZLR7
