Blog Archives
Roscoe
Andrew J. Gregor’s Roscoe is a work of contemporary literary fiction that follows one day in the life of Roscoe Follman, a sixty-two-year-old unhoused man living on the streets of San Francisco with his small dog, Geppetto. The story moves through roughly twelve hours as Roscoe wakes in a doorway, wanders the city, reflects on the life he once had, helps a man after a serious accident, and suddenly finds himself noticed by the very society that usually looks through him. It’s a compact story in terms of time, but emotionally it feels much larger.
What struck me first was the voice. Roscoe is sharp, profane, funny, wounded, and often exhausting in a human way. He can move from a joke about a dog or a bad pair of shoes into a cutting thought about capitalism, colonialism, death, class, or dignity before you have time to settle in. That could have become too much, but Gregor gives the narration enough texture to keep it alive. Roscoe doesn’t sound like a symbol. He sounds like a man thinking out loud because silence has become too heavy. I liked that. I also liked that the book doesn’t sand him down to make him easy to admire. He’s tender, vain, angry, lonely, observant, and sometimes unfair. In other words, he feels real.
Gregor’s main choice, keeping the story so tightly focused on one man’s day, gives the novel its power. There’s not a lot of plot in the traditional sense, but there is constant movement inside Roscoe’s mind. The city becomes more than a setting. San Francisco feels damp, expensive, crowded, beautiful, cruel, and weirdly generous in flashes. The book asks readers to look at homelessness without turning Roscoe into either a lesson or a charity case, and I appreciated that restraint. Roscoe’s digressions can feel long, and some readers may find the political and philosophical asides blunt. Still, those asides are part of the point. This is a man trying to keep hold of his dignity by thinking, naming, remembering, and arguing with the world.
I would recommend Roscoe to readers who appreciate literary fiction with a strong social conscience, especially stories centered on voice, interior life, and moral discomfort rather than fast plotting. It’ll appeal to people who like character-driven novels that make them pause and reconsider the lives they pass by every day. It’s candid, rough-edged, and sad, but also unexpectedly funny. Most of all, it’s a reminder that being seen can be both a gift and a burden.
Pages: 191 | ASIN : B0GX3771MT
Debt
Wade Parrish’s Debt is a bleak and funny literary novel about Bill and Kaelyn, two overworked New York lawyers whose love is being slowly crushed by student loans, corporate law, family damage, class panic, and the constant arithmetic of survival. The story begins after one of Bill’s colleagues dies by suicide, a death that becomes less an isolated tragedy than a warning flare from the life Bill and K are already living. From there, the novel follows their engagement, their work in the machinery of private equity, their fraying tenderness, and the increasingly grotesque bargains they make to escape the Debt that has come to define them.
I really enjoyed the voice. It’s frantic, hilarious, disgusted, and weirdly exact. Parrish writes corporate language as if it were a parasitic fungus growing over the soul, turning ordinary grief into defined terms and moral collapse into cleanly formatted clauses. I found the book exhausting in all the right ways. It does not merely describe burnout; it reproduces the claustrophobia of it, the way every email, subway platform, family call, and wedding expense becomes another small creditor tapping on the glass.
I also admired how the novel refuses to let Bill and K become simple victims. They are trapped, but they are also vain, cruel, evasive, funny, loving, cowardly, and sometimes monstrous. That complexity gives the book its serrated power. The satire is brutal, but the romance underneath it is not fake. Their love feels like two people clinging to each other in a flooding basement, aware that they may be holding one another under as much as keeping one another alive.
I recommend Debt to readers of dark comedy, corporate and class satire, legal fiction, and psychological drama, especially those drawn to books about ambition, money, burnout, and moral compromise. Readers who enjoy the corrosive social intelligence of Bret Easton Ellis or the workplace despair of Joshua Ferris may find a harsher, more legally intoxicated cousin here. Debt is a love story written in red ink, and every page knows exactly what survival costs.
Pages: 166
The Devil Pulls the Strings
The Devil Pulls the Strings is a dark fantasy novel with the pulse of a supernatural thriller and the sweep of an adventure story. It follows Boone Daniels, a Missouri musician and Ren Faire jouster who has spent twelve years trying to prove that his parents did not simply vanish, but were taken by something monstrous and tied to cursed Paganini music. When Boone is pulled from his small-town life into New York, secret societies, occult history, Slavic myth, and a dangerous search involving three pieces of forbidden music, the book turns into a chase through music, memory, grief, and fate.
The author writes like he wants every chapter to move, and they do. Boone’s voice has an authentic roughness that makes the story feel immediate, especially because the novel leans into his synesthesia, eidetic memory, panic, and stubborn need to be believed. That choice gives the book its identity. Music isn’t just background here. It becomes texture, pressure, color, taste, and threat. I liked that a lot. It makes the fantasy feel embodied instead of decorative. At times, the novel throws a huge amount at the reader, with lore, organizations, artifacts, and side characters arriving fast, but I also think that abundance is part of its charm. It feels like opening a big old trunk and finding it packed with strange objects, scraps of legend, and one more story than you expected.
The mix of themes is bold. Slavic mythology, Paganini lore, fairy tale logic, secret archives, vampire assassins, Renaissance fairs, and a hero from a trailer park should not fit together this smoothly, and yet a surprising amount of it does because Boone is such a sincere center of gravity. He’s bruised, funny, desperate, and often overwhelmed, which gives the story heart. The romance thread with Sapphire and the idea of cursed music could have tipped into melodrama, but the book usually keeps itself grounded by returning to Boone’s grief and his need to make sense of what happened when he was six. That gave the bigger fantasy machinery some emotional weight. I was especially interested in how the novel treats talent as both a gift and a burden. Music opens doors here, but it also asks for blood.
I would recommend this most to readers who enjoy genre fiction that is earnest, busy, imaginative, and unafraid to go big. If you like dark fantasy, occult thrillers, myth-soaked adventures, or stories where music itself becomes dangerous, there is a lot here to enjoy. I think readers who want ultra-minimal prose or a very restrained plot may not click with it in the same way. But readers who are happy to follow a wounded, sharp-edged hero into a world of cursed art, hidden histories, and supernatural conflict will probably have a very good time with this one. It feels like a book written by someone who loves stories enough to pack in everything that fascinates him.
Pages: 252 | ISBN : 978-1736401309
A Sandbox of Possibilities
Vexed follows the outcast twin of a royal wendigo house, living in hiding, who is thrust back into a world that feeds on power and control, where her ability to love is seen as a weakness, and her greatest fear is becoming a monster like the rest of them. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
I’ve always been fascinated by the darker side of folklore—particularly wendigos and skinwalkers. For a while, I wasn’t quite sure how to approach them without falling into the usual tropes. But then it hit me: why not lean into what I already enjoy doing—taking something familiar and reshaping it into something unsettling, emotional, and new? That was something readers appreciated in The Orphan Maker (Book 1 of the series), and their response gave me the confidence to push further. With Vexed, I wanted to continue subverting expectations, not just in terms of myth, but in how we portray monstrosity, love, and identity. Emilia’s journey is my way of asking: What if the real horror isn’t the monster’s form—but what we’re willing to become to survive?
It seemed like you took your time in building the characters and the story to great emotional effect. How did you manage the pacing of the story while keeping readers engaged?
Pacing is something I take very seriously—especially in a series where emotional stakes evolve across multiple books. In The Orphan Maker, the protagonist Damien was strategic, composed, and emotionally closed off. So for Vexed, I wanted a complete shift. Emilia, while equally intelligent, is emotionally raw—her turmoil is deeply internal. That contrast was deliberate. I wanted to disorient readers, to make them feel the weight of her silence and her slow unraveling. Structurally, I made sure every chapter carried either emotional or plot-driven tension, weaving personal revelations with external threats. It’s a careful balance—letting the characters breathe while still turning the screws. That tension keeps the pages turning.
In fantasy novels, it’s easy to get carried away with the magical powers characters have. How did you balance the use of supernatural powers?
Fantasy gives you a sandbox of possibilities—but too much freedom can dilute impact. So from the very beginning, I set hard rules for the supernatural. In my planning process, I define exactly what each creature or bloodline can and cannot do, and I document these limits religiously—post-its, diagrams, notebooks, you name it. Power in my world always comes at a cost. If a character uses an ability, there has to be tension or consequence, either physically, emotionally, or narratively. That way, the magic becomes part of the story’s weight—not an escape from it. I want readers to feel that powers don’t make a character stronger—they expose who they really are.
Where does the story go in the next book, and where do you see it going in the future?
I’m incredibly excited for Book 3. Without giving too much away, I’ll say this: the stakes will rise, and the lines between human and monster will blur even more. Readers who’ve followed Emilia’s journey will see her pushed further—to the edge of everything she once believed about herself. Expect more secrets, more betrayals, and yes, more of the world’s hidden lore unfolding. The series as a whole is about identity and inheritance, about what we carry from the past and whether we can ever truly choose who we become. Even in a world of vampires, wendigos, and ancient bloodlines, I believe the heart of every story is still about the choice to be kind… or cruel. That tension will only grow as the saga continues.
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Website
In a world where ancient dynasties feed on control, lust, and carnality, Emilia must survive a court of predators that sees love as weakness and hunger as strength. But the real threat isn’t the creatures around her—it’s the one awakening inside her.
Vexed is a dark supernatural thriller that expands the mythos of The Orphan Maker, diving deeper into a world of secret societies, brutal inheritance, and seductive horror. With relentless pacing and prose that bites like a wendigo’s teeth, this is a story that won’t let go.
Vexed
D.A. Chan’s Vexed, the sequel to The Orphan Maker, plunges us back into a world ruled by ancient bloodlines, dark legacies, and monstrous truths cloaked in elegance. Emilia Vasa, the outcast twin of a royal wendigo house, is yanked from the fragile peace of a life she built in hiding. Forced back toward the cruel empire of her birth, she must navigate manipulation, political alliances, old wounds, and the ever-looming shadow of becoming what she fears most—a monster like the rest of them.
Reading Vexed felt like stepping into a gothic opera that never lets up. Chan writes with emotional urgency—his prose is sharp and immersive, always soaked in atmosphere. I was completely swept away by Emilia’s voice: bitter but vulnerable, regal yet scared. She’s a character I rooted for even as I wanted to shake her. The writing walks a brilliant tightrope—both lyrical and grounded, layered with real feeling. Every sentence carries tension. The emotions—grief, fear, longing—stab through in quiet, gut-wrenching moments, especially in scenes with Anja and Michael. I stayed up late flipping pages, chest tight, because I had to know what was coming.
But it’s not just the writing—it’s the ideas that stay with me. This book isn’t just about a girl caught between two worlds. It’s about legacy and survival. It’s about the cruelty of power disguised as tradition. The wendigo myth is used so smartly—not just horror, but metaphor. Chan explores the hunger for control, the rot at the heart of family, and the cost of being different. There’s a quiet brilliance in how Emilia’s “defect” becomes a kind of strength, even as everyone tries to strip her of agency. That conflict—between the lie she must perform and the truth of who she is—makes the book pulse with tension. It’s relatable, even when the characters are monsters.
I can’t recommend Vexed enough to readers who love dark fantasy with real emotional teeth. If you liked Leigh Bardugo’s Ninth House, or the political dread of The Hunger Games with a gothic twist, this will hit you hard. It’s intense and it’s cruel and tender in equal measure. This book is not for the faint of heart, but if you want something that cuts deep and lingers long after the last page, Vexed is it.
Pages: 335 | ASIN : B0FBV1PJ1N
Potential to Grow and Change
Afterward follows a woman who finds her boyfriend unconscious in their apartment and is thrust into an emotional maze, forcing her to question love, responsibility, and belonging. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
Unfortunately, the story, or something like it, is something you hear more often than one would hope. I heard a version of it had happened to an acquaintance of mine in school (many years ago, and it had happened years before I met her), and it was just something I couldn’t get out of my head. I thought the normal things, such as how bad I felt for what she and the rest of the people affected must have gone through. But then my mind kind of wandered with new questions–about how one becomes equipped to deal with things like that, and what if you weren’t? How would that go? It was really in the course of thinking about those tangential questions that I came up with the story.
Are there any emotions or memories from your own life that you put into your character’s life?
Lauren as a character really didn’t inherit anything from me, but in the course of writing this, I did break my leg and end up in the hospital. I remember being tired and hurt in the ER, and hearing the staff talk about a bad date one of them had had. I remember thinking it was such an odd thing to overhear such an everyday conversation during a day that was so unusual for me. But of course, this was their every day, it wasn’t odd for them, and they should be able to talk with coworkers like anyone else. It just stood out to me in that experience, so I included that moment in the book.
What themes were important for you to explore in this book?
Understanding was a big one. I really don’t even like Lauren in the beginning, but it’s easy to be critical, right? My hope was that by the end, the reader would find a little empathy for a flawed person in a truly horrible situation that wasn’t doing a great job with it. And, I guess, hope for the potential to grow and change. But there are other issues in there that different readers have picked up on as being big to them–friendship/bullying, race, alcohol, insecurity, mental health–and I’m glad different people are finding issues that mean a lot to them, and I hope I handled them okay.
What next book are you working on, and when will it be available?
Actually, I’m very excited to say I am sending my newest book to my publisher tomorrow. It is about a young man whose life events put him in the position to pursue his dream of living in a cabin in Alaska, and what that reality looks like. And I know what that reality is because I spent a lot of time growing up at my family’s homestead, which was not only “off the grid,” but also off the road system. It’s a love letter to, and a cautionary tale about, Alaska.
Author Links: GoodReads | BlueSky | Website | Amazon
Torn from her normal routines—coffee, sex, barhopping, and disc golf—she finds herself in an unfamiliar world of hospital visits and doctor’s appointments, all while navigating an unexpected move to a new apartment and enduring the disapproval of her boyfriend’s mother, as well as the gossip of her friends and coworkers. (Plus the suspicious looks of strangers, and the unbearable strain on her credit card…and did we mention the gossip of her friends and coworkers?) Along the way, she meets every obstacle with…well, not grace, exactly. In fact, pretty much the opposite of grace. Maybe more like bitchiness, truth be told. And all the while, the aftereffects of the tragedy cast a pall over everything she does—and threaten to destroy everything she has.
Bristol Vaudrin’s fascinating debut novel is an engrossing and darkly comedic read with an unforgettable narrator/protagonist. Watching her struggles—real, imagined, and in-between—we too must choose between kindness and judgment, between condescension towards someone who simply doesn’t have a clue, and empathy with a person struggling to deal with something we all must face: the desire to hold on to the things we enjoy when the world around us changes in ways we didn’t expect.
Inside Their Restricted Worlds
Night Hawks follows the lives of small-town drifters, dreamers, and the disillusioned who are all looking for something more, be that a fresh start, an escape, or just some understanding. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
The inspiration came to me from Edward Hopper’s famous 1942 painting Nighthawks. I always admired that painting and how it reveals a late-night café frequented by lonely souls. That’s what I always saw in it, anyway. The painting sparked an idea for a first chapter titled “The Last Train to Chicago,” which as a story, won a fiction contest award from The Vincent Brothers Review.
That first chapter ended with Hank appearing to lose his longtime server, Lois, and so I decided to write another chapter exploring where Lois went and what happened and once I felt it was becoming a book, I needed a couple more good characters to drop into the fishbowl already inhabited by Hank and Lois, and I put the four of them on constant collision courses.
Was there anything from your own life that you put into the characters in your novel?
I don’t think so. Both Hank and Tyler are military veterans and I’m not. I don’t believe any of the four main characters are based on anyone I know now or from the past. For each of the four characters, I first established their names, and from the names I got a starting point for building them into people. I worked, too, off their occupations: Hank as a diner owner and cook, Lois as a veteran server, Clara as a young server still living at home, and Tyler, a jittery veteran just home from Afghanistan.
So, when I started putting flesh on each one, I began with knowing their name and job and my imagination assembled them, and then with each new chapter, I learned more about them and how they would react. For me, writing is a daily process of discovery like it is for readers. I don’t do character arcs before I start writing. I want the daily surprise that comes day as I know the characters better and hear their voice and understand their desires and conflicts.
What were some themes that were important for you to explore in this book?
Family is perhaps the most important – and obvious – theme in Night Hawks. But not the usual concept of family. The four people in the book whose paths and lives are so intertwined, don’t really have traditional families anymore and so their journeys require them to bond and become their own little family. There are lots of people whose lives have become small and desperate, and they look to the people inside their restricted worlds to be family members.
Perhaps enduring and persevering are themes, too. Hank, Lois, Tyler, and Clara must all maintain hope for something better. They don’t have a lot to work with but must keep fighting to have satisfactory lives.
What is the next book that you are working on and when can your fans expect it to be out?
I am nearly done writing the draft of a novel titled The Gatsby Lover. It has a connection to The Great Gatsby, but I’ll keep that close to the vest for now. After I let it sit a few days and then make revisions, it goes over to my longtime personal editor, Carol Burbank, for her always useful reactions. Fingers crossed it finds a good publisher!
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Amazon
Hank Spencer knows what goes on in his diner. He knows which days are best for business and whether the Blue Plate special is selling, and he makes note of the customers who come to drink and make small talk with his servers.
Lois is a hardworking waitress pushing fifty who hasn’t forgotten her big city dreams. When opportunity presents itself, she boards the train for Chicago, despite the risks and her boss’s attempts to warn her.
Working all the double shifts in the world won’t take care of Clara’s problem. She’s young, single, and knocked up. She feels trapped—at the diner, living with her god-fearing parents, and in the gossipy town full of watchful eyes.
Tyler is adjusting to civilian life after a stint in the army. At Hank’s Diner, he finds camaraderie and comfort, and sometimes, he can drown out visions of war over a plate of potatoes and meatloaf, and several, ice-cold beers.
These lonely souls converge under the fluorescent glow of the eatery, late at night and during long days, as the train speeds through, blaring its horn and signaling an alternate path. NIGHT HAWKS is a tender novella with a touch of noir about finding family in unlikely places, living through losses, and the connections that keep us showing up for another shift.
Busted Flat
Busted Flat follows the harrowing journey of Hap, an orphaned teenager with no home or family, and Shriner, a troubled Afghanistan war veteran. Together, they traverse the United States, surviving through petty crime and theft, their lives steeped in chaos and uncertainty. Shriner, haunted by the scars of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, spirals into deeper turmoil, dragging Hap into an endless cycle of desperation and danger.
This is not just a story of survival but one of profound struggle. Busted Flat vividly portrays the bleak realities faced by Hap and Shriner, shedding light on homelessness, mental health, and the heavy toll of life on the fringes of society. The story’s raw intensity resonated deeply with me, particularly as someone familiar with the immense challenges of homelessness. The psychological burden, the loss of direction, and the constant fight to persevere felt strikingly authentic.
Hap’s character stood out as the emotional anchor of the story. His innocence and vulnerability were palpable, a stark contrast to the hardened circumstances he endures. His naivety and lack of purpose manifested through his descent into cellphone theft paint a poignant picture of the struggles faced by runaway, orphaned teens. Hap’s portrayal is not just genuine but heart-wrenching, offering an unflinching look at the emotional scars of abandonment and aimlessness.
Gray’s storytelling excels in capturing the bleakness of homelessness in America. The characters are painted with depth and nuance, making their pain and hardships achingly real. The depiction of Shriner’s PTSD adds a layer of complexity to the narrative. It showcases how trauma compounds the already immense challenges of survival.
For readers seeking an intense and thought-provoking crime thriller, Busted Flat delivers. It is a gripping, page-turning exploration of broken lives, raw emotions, and the relentless fight for survival. Highly recommended for those who crave a story that is as heart-pounding as it is deeply moving.
Pages: 92 | ASIN : B0DG9Z879R
