Category Archives: Five Stars
Broken Alliance
Broken Alliance is a character-driven science fiction adventure that picks up right where Tracer leaves off. We follow Bex, Andre, Kat, and the rest of the Venture’s crew as they uncover a conspiracy tied to black-market thetic technology, corporate power grabs, and the lingering ghost of Sovereign. The stakes scale from street-level desperation to full political upheaval, with personal loyalty binding the whole thing together. By the time the dust settles, alliances shift, institutions crack, and the characters have to decide who they want to be in the systems they’ve helped reshape.
Author David Graham writes with a steady rhythm: some moments hit hard and fast, like the firefight in the Paramor or Bex racing across rooftops; others stretch out with quieter emotional beats, especially in the aftermath scenes near the end of the story. What I appreciated most is how the book doesn’t rush the characters’ inner shifts. Bex’s relationship with identity and agency, Andre’s weariness and stubborn hope, Kat’s complicated sense of duty, these all felt grounded. Even when the plot leaned into big sci-fi spectacle, the emotional center stayed human.
The author also makes some interesting choices about power structures and responsibility. The political hearings, the scramble over the Trelin Base project, and the moral ambiguity of the Alliance add a sharper edge to the adventure (the council scenes show this well). Sometimes the villains are overt, like Davenport, but more often the danger feels systemic, which makes the world feel authentic and messy. I liked that the story refuses a clean resolution. Even the epilogue acknowledges the work still ahead while nudging us toward future threads in the Settled Systems.
By the time I turned the last page, I felt satisfied but also curious. The ending gives the characters a breather, a moment of found-family warmth, and a hint that their fight isn’t done. It’s a good tone to leave on: hopeful but honest. If you enjoy sci-fi that balances action with character, especially stories about crews who choose each other again and again even when the galaxy keeps breaking around them, this one will land well. Fans of The Expanse, Mass Effect, or any tight-knit-crew narrative will feel right at home.
Pages: 418 | ASIN : B0DYVSVTML
Dollartorium
Ralph earns his living in a modest Kansas shop, frying corndogs that are undeniably good and reliably popular. The work keeps him afloat for a while. It offers routine, modest comfort, and a sense of pride. Eventually, though, the numbers stop working. Sales stall. Bills pile up. Stability slips away.
At that moment of strain, Ralph’s wife introduces him to “Dollartorium,” a tantalizing promise discovered through an infomercial. The course offers bold ideas and glossy solutions. At first, it feels like salvation. New business concepts suggest a way out, maybe even a breakthrough. Then the foundation collapses. What seemed like an opportunity quickly unravels, leaving Ralph to reckon with the fallout. With the help of his daughter, Stella, he is forced to retrace his steps and search for a more realistic way forward for his family.
Dollartorium, by Ron Pullins, is a work of fiction that probes capitalism, hustle culture, and the pressures these forces place on families. Humor runs throughout the novel, but it never fully softens the sharper insights beneath the surface. The comedy entertains; the implications linger.
Pullins shows a clear awareness of how precarious financial life has become for many people. Ralph’s anxiety feels earned. His frustration resonates. The sense that the system is tilted against ordinary workers gives the story its urgency. The Dollartorium scheme itself feels uncomfortably familiar, echoing countless real-world programs marketed to those already struggling. These promises prey on desperation, and Pullins does not shy away from exposing their ethical rot.
Stella emerges as the novel’s moral and intellectual anchor. She tempers Ralph’s desperation with reason and clarity. Her perspective restores balance and nudges the story toward resolution. Yet even as the family regains its footing, the larger problem remains unresolved. The system that cornered them still stands. Pullins underscores this truth with restraint, allowing the message to land without sermonizing.
The novel closes on a note that is satisfying, though far from idyllic. That choice feels intentional. Pullins has more to say than a neat ending would allow. Through his characters, he gives voice to frustrations that have become commonplace, about inequality, exploitation, and the illusion of easy fixes. The odds remain stacked against the little guy, and the allure of grand, risky schemes proves hard to resist. Dollartorium captures that tension with clarity, humor, and an undercurrent of quiet anger that makes it linger after the final page.
Free and First: Unlocking Your Ultimate Life
Free and First is a deeply personal guide to self-discovery. Elizabeth Jane traces her journey from people pleasing and self-doubt to a fuller, freer life shaped by awareness, boundaries, and self-love. She weaves her childhood memories, her marriage, the collapse of that marriage, her travels, her art, and the spiritual teachings that lifted her along the way. The book unfolds through stories, poems, and reflections that show how putting yourself first can feel terrifying at first, yet life-saving in the end. The message is simple and strong. You can only live your ultimate life when you stop abandoning yourself and finally choose you.
As I read, I felt drawn into the honesty of her voice. She talks about fear, shame, exhaustion, and hope in ways that feel raw and real. Her descriptions of becoming invisible in her own marriage hit me hard. I could feel the weight of that silence building inside her. I admired the courage it took for her to pull apart the patterns she had carried since childhood and to name them without flinching. The poems sprinkled throughout the book gave me a quiet pause every time. They felt like little rest stops that softened the heavier moments and reminded me why the journey matters.
Her ideas about boundaries and self-worth resonated with me. Then it surprised me with a sharply clear insight that made me sit back for a moment. I liked that mix. I also appreciated how she used her art and travel as ways to reconnect with herself. There is something tender about someone discovering creativity for the first time in adulthood and letting it shake their life awake. I found myself smiling through those parts. It made the transformation feel less theoretical and more lived in.
This book is heartfelt and encouraging. It is especially good for women who feel stretched thin or unseen, and for anyone who keeps putting others first until there is nothing left for themselves. If you want a book that feels like a warm conversation mixed with personal stories and simple tools, this will speak to you. It reminded me that choosing yourself is not selfish at all. It is the start of everything that follows.
Pages: 156 | ISBN : 1923250043
My Socks are Dirty Too
My Socks are Dirty, Too is a loose, goofy collection of short bits, gags, and cheeky observations about aging, marriage, senior-center hijinks, bodily mishaps, and everyday life. The book moves fast and hops from one joke to another, almost like listening to a friend who can’t stop cracking wise as he recounts stories about his wife, his buddies, his church antics, and all the strange things that happen as the years pile up. It feels like flipping through a scrapbook of one-liners and mini-stories built to get a grin, a smirk, or a full laugh, with topics ranging from HOA mischief to senior-center pranks to marital back-and-forths and the general chaos of getting older.
While reading, I kept finding myself smiling at how unfiltered the writing is. The author leans into a kind of playful orneriness that feels honest, like he’s laughing at life before life gets the chance to laugh at him. Some jokes are silly, some are sharp, and some hit with that little sting of truth that comes with age. I liked the rhythm of it. The quick hits kept me turning pages because I never knew if the next line would be a groaner or something that would make me snort-laugh. I also enjoyed how he describes the senior center like it’s a sitcom set. The quirky characters and wild signage made the place feel alive and weird in the best way. It all felt familiar, as if he were letting me in on a private hangout with the neighborhood troublemaker.
I also felt a kind of warmth beneath the joking. Even when he teases his wife or pokes at aging bodies and fading memory, there’s affection tucked into the cracks. The stories are crude at times and sometimes outrageous, but the heart shows through. It reminded me of listening to an older relative tell stories that drift between the ridiculous and the meaningful. Some bits made me roll my eyes in the best possible way, and others caught me off guard with how relatable they were. Aging can be hard, but the author treats it like a long, rowdy adventure where you either laugh or you stew, and he refuses to stew.
I’d recommend this book to readers who enjoy quick humor, playful irreverence, and a lighthearted look at senior life. It’s great for anyone who wants to laugh about the oddness of growing older or who appreciates a storyteller who doesn’t take himself seriously. If you like joke-heavy books you can dip in and out of, or if you just need a pick-me-up, this one fits the bill.
Pages: 122 | ASIN : B0F7VPXGZ9
The Return
The Return drops the reader straight into South Park, Colorado, where Ike McAlister and his family wrestle with a brutal winter, old wounds, and the steady creep of danger from men tied to the coming railroad. The story follows Ike’s fight to protect his land, his people, and the fragile peace he has managed to build. The novel blends frontier grit with family devotion and a sense of unfinished business that never quite loosens its grip. I felt the stakes rise page by page as storms, enemies, and secrets closed in around Ike and those he loves.
I found myself pulled in by the writing right away. Torreano paints the land with steady hands, and the cold feels like it bites through the page. The early scenes in the blizzard hit me hard. The tension builds quietly, then all at once, and I caught myself almost holding my breath. The dialogue has a simple rhythm that feels true to the setting. I liked that it never tries too hard. Some passages felt a little drawn out, yet the heart of the story beats strong enough that I didn’t mind lingering. I cared about Ike more than I expected. He is stubborn, loyal, and rough around the edges, and I felt that mix settle in me as something real.
What surprised me most was how emotional the book became as it unfolded. I kept feeling this tug in my chest when the family struggled through the small, private moments that hit harder than the gunfire. Lorraine’s strength stayed with me and made me think about the cost of keeping a home running when the world feels cold and hungry. I got frustrated with Ike at times because he pushes himself past reason, but that is also why he stays on my mind. The themes of honor and self-responsibility land with a quiet weight, and I found myself nodding more than once, thinking about how little those values change across time. There were moments that felt gentle, then sharp, then gentle again, and I liked that uneven beat.
The book mixes history, hardship, and hope in a way that should sit well with readers who like westerns with real heart. I would recommend The Return to anyone who enjoys frontier stories with strong family bonds, vivid landscapes, and characters who feel lived in. It would also suit readers who want action tempered with emotion and a sense of place that settles around you like campfire smoke.
Pages: 327 | ASIN: B0FR1XC4QT
At the Foot of the Mountain
At the Foot of the Mountain is a poetry collection that moves through memory, place, and the hard work of healing. The book shifts between nature scenes, family wounds, cultural identity, and quiet moments of reflection. Every poem feels like a step on a long trail where grief rises, settles, and rises again. Some pieces glow with the warmth of sunlight after rain. Others sit heavy, shaped by loss, longing, and the effort to understand where a person truly comes from. What ties it all together is a steady pulse of hope, small but stubborn, that shows up in forests, mountains, and even the kitchen.
Reading these poems, I found myself pulled in by how raw and tender the writing is. The language is simple on the surface, yet it carries so much under it. I felt a real ache in pieces about mothers, heritage, and complicated love. Some poems made me pause just to picture the scene, like the quiet watchfulness of a deer or the weight of snow on a birch leaf. The book mixes softness with sharp edges, and I liked that contrast. The emotional rhythm jumps aroun,d and I enjoyed never knowing if the next poem would sting or soothe.
I also appreciated how the natural world is used to talk through emotional pain. It is dirt, wind, and cold water. It is trees that fall and birds that migrate, and a trail that forces you to keep walking even when you would rather curl inward. The writing is unpretentious and heartfelt and sometimes unpredictable, which makes it feel alive. Now and then, the imagery overwhelmed me a little, but even that felt like part of the experience. Healing is messy. Memory is messy. The poems let that mess show.
In the end, I walked away feeling moved. I would recommend this book to readers who enjoy intimate poetry rooted in nature and personal history. It is a good fit for anyone drawn to stories of recovery told in small, vivid fragments.
Pages: 98 | ISBN : 198911945X
The Bent Nail
M.D. Nuth’s The Bent Nail is a dark, unflinching exploration of power, corruption, and the human cost of control. It begins in the chaos of a Delhi marketplace and spirals into a global web of political manipulation, personal ruin, and moral decay. At its center is Tau, a man born into filth and neglect who becomes both a victim and an instrument of a shadowy organization bent on reshaping the world through brutality. From street-level despair to the high offices of government, the novel draws a line between the powerless and the powerful, showing how desperation and authority twist into something monstrous.
Reading this book felt like riding a rollercoaster. Nuth’s writing hits hard. The language is raw and often brutal, but it feels right for the world he’s built. I could almost smell the filth of the streets and feel the emptiness in Tau’s heart. The dialogue is jagged, messy, and alive. It sounds like people breaking apart, trying to make sense of what’s left of their lives. The pacing is relentless. There were moments I had to pause just to breathe, especially in scenes that blended violence with eerie calm. It’s not an easy read, but it’s gripping.
What surprised me most was how much I cared for characters who probably didn’t deserve it. Tau, especially, is a walking wound, and even as he kills, I felt something like pity. Nuth doesn’t excuse evil, he shows how it’s born. The story’s ideas about government control, manipulation, and the illusion of freedom hit close to home. It’s a political thriller, yes, but it also feels like a prophecy, a mirror held up to our worst tendencies as people.
I’d recommend The Bent Nail to readers who like their fiction sharp, ugly, and honest. It’s perfect for those who aren’t afraid of dark themes or moral gray areas. If you want a story that challenges you, unsettles you, and makes you question the world you live in, this one’s worth every page.
Pages: 294 | ISBN : 1681607840
The Crucible Principle
The Crucible Principle follows Jackson Cade, a high-powered leader whose world collapses when a corporate crisis exposes not only cracks in the company he built but cracks in his own life. The story tracks his forced sabbatical, his exile in the woods, and his painful unraveling as he confronts the distance he has created with his family, the weight of buried failures, and the truth that leadership means nothing if a man is falling apart inside. Through conversations with mentors, memories that cut deep, and a growing list of words he has avoided for years, the book traces his path from blindness to honesty. It shows how adversity becomes the place where identity is stripped down and rebuilt.
I found myself pulled into the emotional tension more than I expected. The writing is clean and vivid, and the scenes feel authentic. I liked how the author blends storytelling with lessons without turning it into a lecture. The words carry emotional weight. Some passages lingered in my mind, especially the moments with his daughter. They felt real and tender and a little painful. The interactions in the lodge worked well, too. They had a slow rhythm that made me lean in. At times, the metaphors came on a bit thick, yet the honesty in them still made me feel something.
I also appreciated how the book handles the idea of failure. It doesn’t glamorize it. It doesn’t soften it. It lets the reader sit in it. I could feel the ache of regret, the pressure of ego, and the slow, stubborn work of self-reflection. The pacing dips here and there, but the emotional payoff stays strong. The writing avoids jargon, which makes the lessons easy to absorb.
The Crucible Principle is a story I would recommend to leaders, parents, high achievers, and anyone who feels stretched thin and quietly afraid. It is a good fit for readers who want a mix of story and soul searching, wrapped in language that feels simple and relatable. It reminds you that purpose grows in hard places and that the fire you fear may be the thing that saves you. If you liked the raw self-reckoning and emotional grit of The Leader’s Journey, you’ll find The Crucible Principle just as compelling and well worth your time.
Pages: 110 | ASIN : B0G1JC75F7
LITERARY TITAN 