Blog Archives
The Write-In
The Write-In by James A. Brandt is a political fiction novel with strong elements of inspirational drama and political thriller. It follows Jake Kilthread, a retired Army colonel turned local news anchor in Lawton, Oklahoma, whose offhand suggestion that voters write in his name for president turns into a national movement. What begins as frustration with two deeply flawed candidates becomes a surreal rise to the White House, complete with legal challenges, family strain, faith, public pressure, and the early tests of leadership.
I liked how earnest the book is. It wears its heart right on its sleeve. Brandt isn’t trying to write a cynical Washington novel full of smoky rooms and clever betrayals. He’s writing about what leadership should feel like to ordinary people: honest, service-minded, grounded in family, and willing to speak plainly. I enjoyed that. Jake is almost idealized at times, but that seems intentional. He’s less a messy antihero and more a wish cast into fiction, the kind of leader people imagine when they are tired of being disappointed.
The writing is big, direct, and emotional. Sometimes it leans on grand descriptions and affirmations of Jake’s goodness. I found myself wanting a little more friction inside Jake himself, more doubt, more moments where the answers were not so clear. Still, the author’s choices make sense for the genre. As political fiction, the book isn’t just asking “what if?” It is asking “what if the country remembered its better self?” That question gives the story its pulse.
One other thing I liked about the book was the way it keeps Jake’s family close to the center of the story. His rise is national and dramatic, but the scenes with Carol, Keith, and Kyle make the book feel warmer and more personal. They remind us that Jake isn’t just a symbol or a candidate. He’s a husband and father trying to stay grounded while the world around him gets louder.
I would recommend The Write-In most to readers who enjoy patriotic political fiction, faith-informed storytelling, underdog narratives, and stories where family values sit beside national stakes. Readers who want a hopeful, sincere, and very American fantasy about a regular man being called into extraordinary service, this book will be a great read.
Pages: 222 | ASIN : B0GSSJNCT7
In Jake’s Shoes
In Jake’s Shoes is a work of contemporary literary fiction with a strong family drama and coming-of-age core, and it follows Jake Gatlin, a young soldier serving in Mortuary Affairs in Afghanistan, while also tracing the older grief and silence that shaped him back home. As the novel moves between war, memory, and the letters Jake wrote to his dead grandmother, it slowly becomes a story about loss, guilt, and the hard work of finally seeing someone you thought you already knew. It’s not just about what happened to Jake. It is also about what his family, especially his father, failed to understand until it was almost too late.
Author Andrew C. Phillips does not rush the pain in this book, and he also doesn’t try to dress it up too much. The novel trusts ordinary family moments, old arguments, private letters, and half-finished conversations to carry real weight. I liked that the book lets Jake feel wounded, observant, tender, and angry all at once. The letters to Gammy Gat could have felt like a gimmick in another novel, but here they become the quiet engine of the whole story. They give Jake a voice that is open in ways he cannot be with the living, and they also give the novel its deepest sense of intimacy.
I also found myself thinking a lot about the father. In many books like this, the emotionally blocked parent is there just to be judged. Here, Phillips does something harder and better. He lets Marshall be wrong without flattening him into a villain. That choice gave the novel its professional edge for me, because it pushed the story beyond easy blame and into something more honest about family, masculinity, and the stories parents tell themselves about discipline, strength, and love. The novel is direct to the point of sentimentality. Still, I respected that openness. The book means what it says. And by the end, that candor felt earned rather than naive, especially once the father begins to understand Jake through the letters and, finally, through grief.
I would recommend In Jake’s Shoes most to readers who like heartfelt literary fiction, family-centered war novels, and stories of grief that lean toward healing rather than irony. People who respond to books about parents and children missing each other emotionally, then trying to bridge that distance, will probably find a lot here. It’s a reflective, sad, generous novel, and it feels written from a place of real care.
Pages: 345 | ASIN : B0G6G8R4QT
You-Gin One-Gin: Sort of a Novel
You-Gin One-Gin: Sort of a Novel is a strange, clever, and self-aware book that lives somewhere between literary metafiction, campus novel, and sports novel. It starts as a stage adaptation of Eugene Onegin for a small Midwestern university, with Pushkin himself striding around the stage and arguing with his own characters. Around that, an editorial foreword and the later sections, “Pushkin” and “Nabokov,” spin out a campus story involving a near assassination, an alleged alien abduction at a lingerie league football game, and a ghostly Vladimir Nabokov who may or may not be narrating part of what we are reading. All of it sits inside a fake university press package that treats the whole thing as if it were a serious publication from Liberal State University Press, complete with squabbles over authorship and attribution.
Reading it, I felt like I was watching someone juggle too many glass balls and somehow not drop a single one. The play in Part 1 is funny and nimble, and the dialogue has that quick, teasing rhythm that makes you want to hear it spoken on stage, not just read it. I liked how Robinson lets Pushkin walk in and out of his own story, constantly poking at the thin wall between author and character, past and present. Sometimes it felt like sitting in the back row of a rehearsal where the playwright keeps changing lines on the fly, then turning to you to justify the change. That intimacy works. It made the classic material feel playful and modern.
Parts 2 and 3 shift tone, and I had mostly positive feelings as the book leaned into campus satire and metafiction. The attempted murder, the football game hysteria, the rumors about an alien abduction, the ghost narrator who may be Nabokov or may just be another mask for Robinson himself: all of that is fun, and often genuinely sharp about academic ego, gossip, and the way stories get told and retold until no one remembers what actually happened. Sometimes the book layered one clever reference on top of another. But even when I felt a bit lost, I never felt bored. The voice stays wry and curious, like that colleague who can spend an hour in your doorway unpacking one wild departmental rumor, and you do not quite want them to stop.
If you are in the mood for literary metafiction that plays with a classic text, makes fun of academia, and is happy to chase a joke or an idea as far as it will go, then You-Gin One-Gin: Sort of a Novel is worth your time. Readers who enjoy experimental fiction, campus and sports stories with a twist, or who already have a soft spot for Eugene Onegin and Nabokov will probably get the most out of it.
Pages: 380 | ASIN : B0GFPWGFTX
A Real Collusion
A Real Collusion is a political thriller told through the eyes of Skip Winters, a mid-level ad guy who looks back on his friendship with John Campbell and the wild rise and fall of a grassroots movement. It starts small, with a silly local fight over cigar smoke at a community board meeting in the Bowery, where John’s angry “I object” moment and a quick handshake outside the gym turn into a tabloid photo and a cable-news booking. From there, Skip helps John ride a wave of viral attention into the creation of the American Coalition, a scrappy effort to break the two-party lock, curb big money, and push more honest voting in Congress. As donors, TV producers, and dark-money groups close in, the story widens from New York to Washington and Philadelphia, where the movement crashes into a secretive business council and a lurking gunman in the crowd, leaving John’s legacy split between real reform and a sense that the system still has its hands on the wheel.
Skip sounds like that smart, slightly bitter friend who tells a story over a drink and keeps circling back to the parts that really hurt. The early chapters are vivid and weirdly fun: folding chairs tipping over in a hot school gym, cops’ lights splashing off old brick, a stunned ride on the F train with the Post open to a photo of your buddy on the front page. The scenes in the bar, the cramped apartment, the ad agency office feel specific and lived in, and the jokes land with a light touch instead of feeling like “political satire.” The author knows how to tighten the screws; the book shifts from goofy excitement to real tension smoothly, and by the time CNN calls and big donors sniff around, the momentum feels natural, not like the plot is dragging the characters along.
I did feel the “novel and exposé” label in the writing. When Skip and John hammer out the American Coalition platform and talk through campaign finance, independent candidates, and the way corporations game the rules, the book turns into a kind of civics lesson. I did not mind that most of the time, because Skip is honest about his own ego and fear, and that keeps the big ideas grounded in one guy’s midlife crisis and his hunger to matter. Still, a few speeches run long, and some side characters can drift toward types more than people. The scenes that follow the BCL and the man in the crowd with a gun, though, hit hard. They show how a hopeful movement can be bent or broken by a handful of people with money and no shame, and they made me uncomfortable in a way that felt earned rather than melodramatic.
The book made me angry, sad, and weirdly hopeful all at once. The introduction lays out a blunt case that the real threat to American democracy comes from inside, from quiet collusion between parties and donors who let inequality balloon while the middle class slides, and the plot keeps circling that point without ever feeling like a pure lecture. I liked how the story shows the media as both amplifier and filter, how a tossed-off joke about both parties “sucking” becomes a brand, how consultants and billionaires talk about “fixing the system” while protecting their own slice. The ending, with John gone and a handful of independents in Congress, hit me hardest; change happens, but not cleanly, and the people who lit the fire do not always get to see the house rebuilt. That left me thinking less about whether the plot was “realistic” in a narrow sense and more about how much of it already feels true.
I would recommend A Real Collusion to readers who enjoy political stories with heart, anyone who follows American politics and feels worn down but not completely checked out, and folks who like character-driven fiction about friendship, compromise, and the cost of sticking your neck out. If you are okay sitting with some ambiguity, some righteous anger, and a stubborn streak of hope, you’ll enjoy this novel.
Pages: 286 | ASIN : B0G5K3BJ1K
NICK and CLANCY – A Tale of Nine Lives
NICK and CLANCY – A Tale of Nine Lives tells the story of Nick, a gentle and wounded man recovering from severe heart trauma, and Clancy, the sharp, funny, deeply devoted dog who enters his life at exactly the right moment. The narrative moves through years of shared life, illness, dreams, small victories, and fear, often told from Clancy’s point of view. At its core, the book is about survival, companionship, purpose, and the strange ways love shows up when life feels fragile and uncertain.
The writing feels intimate and conversational, almost like someone sitting across from you and telling you a story late at night. I laughed more than I expected. I also felt a quiet ache settle in as the pages went on. The dog’s perspective could have felt gimmicky, but it does not. It feels earnest and oddly wise. Clancy’s humor, guilt, loyalty, and protectiveness landed hard for me. I felt protective of Nick, too, even frustrated with him at times. The writing is messy in a relatable way. It rambles. It lingers. That worked for me. Life rarely moves in neat arcs, and this book does not pretend otherwise.
The theme of borrowed time runs through everything. Illness hangs over each chapter like background noise that never fully shuts off. I felt the anxiety of waiting for the next medical crisis. I also felt the stubborn hope that keeps Nick moving forward anyway. The story made me think about purpose in small terms. Not destiny. Not grand success. Just showing up for someone else. Just staying. There is a tenderness here that caught me off guard. Some sections felt repetitive, and a tighter edit could help in places, but I did not mind lingering with these characters. I cared about them. That matters more to me than polish.
I would recommend this book to readers who enjoy character-driven stories and emotional honesty. It is especially well-suited for animal lovers, people who have faced serious illness, or anyone who has felt unmoored and searching for meaning. This book is reflective and heartfelt and sometimes sad. If you like books that feel personal and lived in, and you do not mind getting a little misty-eyed along the way, this one is worth your time.
Pages: 288 | ASIN : B0FMTS6KZK
That Kind of Girl
That Kind of Girl by Jacey Bici is a sharp, funny, and often painfully honest novel about Opal Collins, a dedicated physician whose life teeters between the chaos of her high-pressure hospital job and the fragile balance of her family life. The story follows her through frantic hospital shifts, tense moments with her husband Fox, and unexpected encounters, like meeting Fantasia, a stripper-slash-therapist whose fearless confidence rattles Opal’s view of herself. The book is about identity, ambition, and the difficult choices women face when juggling personal fulfillment with the demands of career and relationships. Bici builds Opal’s world with a mix of biting humor, messy realism, and moments of quiet vulnerability that keep the pages turning.
I loved how the writing felt alive. The humor is sly, often showing up in the middle of high-stress moments, and the dialogue snaps with authenticity. Opal’s internal commentary is razor-sharp yet tinged with self-doubt, making her both flawed and relatable. The pacing keeps you in that sweet spot between wanting to race ahead and needing to savor the detail. Still, there were times the book’s whirlwind of side characters and subplots made me feel a little like Opal herself, pulled in a dozen directions. It works thematically, but it occasionally left me craving more breathing room in the narrative.
The ideas at play here are what really stuck with me. Bici isn’t just telling the story of one woman in crisis. She’s poking at the bigger question of what it means to “have it all” without losing yourself in the process. Through Opal’s encounters, with her controlling boss, her relentlessly supportive yet sometimes misguided husband, and the magnetic Fantasia, the book explores power, compromise, and self-preservation. I appreciated that Bici never gave easy answers. Opal’s choices are messy, sometimes self-sabotaging, but they feel honest. The mix of humor and emotional weight keeps the themes from becoming heavy-handed, and the moments of intimacy, both in friendships and in marriage, felt refreshingly unvarnished.
By the end, I felt like I’d been through something alongside Opal, rooting for her even when she didn’t quite know where she was headed. That Kind of Girl would be a great pick for readers who love character-driven stories with bite, especially those who appreciate frank and slightly irreverent explorations of marriage, career, and identity. If you’ve ever felt the tug-of-war between ambition and the rest of your life, this book will make you laugh, squirm, and maybe even feel seen.
ASIN : B0FJNFV2CK
Locust Hill: A Romantic Family Saga
Locust Hill is a nostalgic, slow-burning romantic saga set in the rural landscape of West Virginia during the 1960s. Told through the voice of Cassandra “Cassie” Clark, a popular high school girl with big dreams and big-city expectations, the novel traces her unlikely love story with James Russell, a quiet, philosophical young farmer. What begins as a tutoring session in trigonometry unfolds into a deeply layered exploration of family, resilience, sacrifice, and the quiet kind of love that grows deeper with time. It’s a coming-of-age tale just as much as it is a love story—rooted in soil, memory, and legacy.
On the surface, it reads like a wholesome farm story, but Parsons writes with such clarity and charm that I was hooked by the end of chapter one. The first few pages in which Cassie describes her surprise attraction to the serious, slide-rule-toting Jim are full of heart and humor. The whole “fertility goddess” conversation made me laugh and then think way harder than I expected. Jim’s quiet wisdom stuck with me. He’s not just a farmer, he’s a philosopher with dirt under his fingernails.
One of the most touching and vivid sections is when Cassie visits Jim’s family farm. The way she describes the house, the land, the compost piles, the ducks, the guineas, it’s more than just descriptive. It’s loving. You can feel her world shifting as she walks through the barn or sees the warmth of Jim’s mother. Parsons doesn’t romanticize farm life. He honors it. He shows how the land, like love, takes patience, work, and guts. There’s a part where Jim says the garden “informs the fields,” and I had to pause and take that in. It’s a beautiful metaphor for how small efforts, like relationships, can grow into something sustaining.
Some chapters drift like a slow river, and if you’re expecting non-stop action, this might feel a little sluggish. But that’s kind of the point. The pacing mirrors the farm life it describes—seasonal, methodical, purposeful. There’s real tension beneath the calm, especially when the story veers into environmental issues in later chapters. Still, it’s the romance that held me. The way Jim proposes at the creek, under budding trees, made my heart melt. It’s tender without being sappy, and just the right amount of awkward.
I’d recommend Locust Hill to anyone who loves character-driven stories, rich settings, and quiet, meaningful drama. If you enjoy books where not much “happens” but everything matters, you’ll feel at home here. It’s especially perfect for readers who miss the days when love stories were more about soul than spark. This isn’t a whirlwind romance, it’s a slow build that feels earned. Like a good harvest after a long, hard season.
Pages: 220 | ASIN : B0DVCFPM4M
Ups and Downs of Life
Many Mansions follows twin brothers living in New York who wind up in dramatically different lives after a fight that ends their relationship. What was the inspiration for the setup for your story?
Many Mansions was inspired due to my love of luxurious real estate in magazines, on TV, on social media, and in real-time. Just like, my main characters Moses and Isaac who had an interest in affluent homes. At the same time, when I was seventeen, I almost got my real estate license, but I changed my mind because I wanted to become a writer instead. I know it might sound crazy, but that was me. The biblical quote “Many Mansions” made me think of God’s home with an abundance of homes in the sky for people who did good in the world.
What are some things that you find interesting about the human condition that you think make for great fiction?
The things that I find interesting about the human condition are when the characters go through ups and downs. They may have bad intentions but turn them around and do good in the end. When a character has fallen on luck and has given up on life like my character Isaac who couldn’t take the outside world looking down on him. Even his parents and then the one who was supposed to be there for him which was his brother, Moses. And any situation, a person may experience that will cause them to take drastic measures or something good.
What character did you enjoy writing for? Was there one that was more challenging to write?
I love writing about Moses because he strived to make his real estate company a reality. I love writing about Isaac as well, even though he became homeless. I enjoyed writing about both Moses and Isaac as you know they are brothers but took different paths in life. I usually write characters who are opposites and both main characters. I had no problem writing the other characters in Many Mansions.
What is the next book that you’re working on and when can fans expect it out?
I’m working on a dark romance about an abduction. And I can’t make any promises when this dark love story will be available. I’ll keep everyone posted.
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook
Moses moved on, graduated from college, and started his real estate business. He networked with real investors, contractors, and realtors in the field. He became a lucrative businessman selling luxurious homes for the rich and famous. Over the next decade, Moses thought of his brother, Isaac. He was so caught up in himself that he forgot about the brother who was out in the world somewhere. He didn’t know if Isaac was dead or alive.
While shopping at the supermarket with his girlfriend, Moses stood in line waiting to purchase his items. He noticed a filthy, unkempt gentleman who couldn’t afford his purchases, and offered to help him out. Moses noticed it was Isaac. The twins reunion wasn’t heartwarming. Instead, it was filled with jealousy, envy, and hate from the past. Moses and Isaac reconciled their differences. They realized who caused their broken bond. It was their stepfather who came into their lives, turning everything upside down. Finally, Moses and Isaac got rid of this man with the help of their mother who also suffered from this man’s lies, abuse, and cheating. Now, the brothers made their dreams became a reality. They sold luxury properties and also provided homes for the homeless.
