Blog Archives
Two Connected Souls
Two Connected Souls follows Derrick, his wife Susan, and their young son Ricky as their cozy New England life shatters when a tragedy occurs that leaves Derrick unresponsive and left in a coma. While his body lies in the hospital, his consciousness slips into a bright, unknown dimension where a silent robed figure guides him through scenes from his life and towards a final destination. Back on earth, Ricky feels every shift in his father’s condition and starts to sense that their connection runs deeper than ordinary love. They realized his cell phone that father and son once used as a simple safety net turn into a strange bridge between worlds, allowing Derrick to call home from that other plane and later letting Ricky call his father back from the edge of a darker place. Their bond solidifies into something almost physical, a shared soul connection that lets them touch, travel, and finally find their way back to the family, with the promise of another soul waiting to join them in the future.
Reading it, I felt like I was inside a heartfelt family story first and a spiritual thriller second. The writing leans warm and earnest, full of sensory detail about seasons, snow, and the quiet routines that makes life feel safe. Sometimes the prose stretches a scene, yet that same intensity gives the big emotional beats real weight. I liked how the cell phone, a very ordinary object, becomes a lifeline across dimensions, even if the device occasionally feels a little on the nose. The dialogue often spells things out in plain terms. Sometimes I wanted more subtext, but the hospital scenes, the accident, and Ricky’s panic and hope held my attention and felt vivid.
What stayed with me most was the way the book talks about love, faith, and choice in very simple language. The story treats the bond between parent and child as something literally cosmic, not just emotional, and I found that oddly comforting. I liked the idea that even “bad” or empty souls still crave warmth and that Derrick’s refusal to give in matters, not just his beliefs or his prayers. The visits to the misty realm, the angels, the hint of hell, and the robed creator figure are pretty straightforward. For me, it felt like listening to someone tell a very personal near-death story. I could feel the wish behind it. The wish that love really does reach across every barrier, and that a child’s trust and a parent’s promise are stronger than fear.
Two Connected Souls is heartfelt, clear, and determined to reassure you that death is a doorway, not a wall. I would recommend it to readers who enjoy inspirational or spiritual fiction, to parents who like stories about fierce parent–child bonds, and to anyone who finds comfort in vivid pictures of heaven, angels, and divine presence. If you want a straight-from-the-heart story about love that refuses to let go, I think this book will be very enjoyable for you.
Pages: 91 | ASIN: B0GDVLW9GG
Belonging to the World
Belonging to the World follows Barry Hoffner’s journey from the sudden loss of his wife, Jackie, to an unexpected path of healing as he travels to every country on earth. The book opens with the shattering grief of Jackie’s death and the dark, disorienting months that follow, then widens into a story about connection, curiosity, and the raw power of human kindness. Hoffner moves through deserts in Oman, chaos and beauty in Afghanistan, warmth in Syria, wonder in Bhutan, and countless small moments of humanity that tell him he still belongs to the world, even when he feels unmoored from it. It is both a memoir of loss and a chronicle of awe, written with honesty and a clear desire to understand people wherever he goes.
As I read, I felt pulled into his emotional rhythm. Sometimes he writes with a quiet weight, almost like he is whispering because the grief is still too close. Other times, he throws himself into a scene with bright energy, like he is hungry to feel alive again. I found that mix moving. It mirrors how grief actually behaves. It hits hard, then softens, then surprises you all over again. The travel stories aren’t just pretty postcard moments. They are the places where he bumps into his own pain and also where he finds these tiny sparks of connection. I loved how often strangers show up at the perfect time. It made me think about how people everywhere have this instinct to reach toward someone who hurts.
I also appreciated the simplicity of the writing. He doesn’t try to sound wise or polished, and I liked that. It feels like someone telling you the truth as they live it. The chapters unfold quickly, each country arriving like a new test or a new chance. I sometimes wished he lingered longer, especially in the places that clearly changed him. But the pace also reflects his state of mind. After loss, standing still can feel dangerous. Moving forward feels like survival. And the way he carries Jackie with him in every experience made me ache. It never felt sentimental. It felt real.
By the end, I had this sense that the world he traveled through became less a map and more a mirror. Every landscape, every border crossing, every shared meal made him a little braver and a little softer. I didn’t finish the book thinking about travel as a checklist. I finished it thinking about how connection works. How people can stitch you back together without even knowing they’re doing it. How a life can shift from broken to open if you let yourself keep going, one unfamiliar place at a time.
I would recommend Belonging to the World to anyone traveling through grief, anyone who loves travel stories with heart, and anyone who wants to see the world as more generous than the headlines make it seem. It’s especially good for readers who don’t need tidy lessons and who are comfortable walking beside someone still figuring it all out. The book feels like a companion for anyone trying to rebuild after life comes apart.
Pages: 405 | ASIN : B0FZNNDF5L
Lunches with Ed (A Dementia Journey of Love)
Lunches with Ed tells the story of a woman caring for her husband as dementia slowly changes every corner of their shared life. The book follows Judy Collier’s journey from the first troubling signs to the caregiving years at home, the painful decision to move Ed to long-term care, the strange mix of heartbreak and sweetness in her daily visits, and finally the peaceful end of his life. She lays out the memories through stories, journal entries, and reflections that show love staying steady even as everything else slips away.
The writing feels simple at first, almost like someone talking to a friend over coffee, yet that is exactly what makes it so strong. The plainness pulls you in. You start to feel the fear she tries to hide and the way she keeps moving anyway. There were moments that made me laugh because they felt so human and odd, like Ed grouping his grapes into sets of four or insisting his license was locked in the doctor’s desk. Then I’d turn a page and feel my chest tighten when he wandered outside in the middle of the night or when she held window visits during the long months of Covid. The emotional swings felt real. They felt like life. I found myself pausing often just to sit with it.
What stayed with me most was how she writes about devotion. Not as some grand thing but as a series of small acts that never stop. Holding his hand while he sleeps. Feeding him when he forgets how. Talking to shadows in the corner because it eased his fear. None of it feels dramatic. It feels steady and warm and a little exhausting and also brave in a quiet way. The journal entries hit me especially hard. They show the rhythm of her days shifting between hope and dread. They show how love keeps showing up even when the person you love is drifting somewhere you cannot follow. I felt myself rooting for both of them and sometimes whispering a little prayer under my breath because the truth of it all was so heavy.
I closed the book with a mix of sadness and gratitude. Sadness because the story is real, and loss is real. Gratitude because the author chose to share something so personal and because her honesty might make someone else feel less alone. I would recommend Lunches with Ed to caregivers, family members walking through dementia, readers drawn to memoir, and anyone who wants a reminder that tenderness still matters in hard seasons.
Pages: 82
The Stanton Falls Mysteries – Promotion to Peril
Susan Reed-Flores’s The Stanton Falls Mysteries: Promotion to Peril explores the destructive forces of greed and envy, which drive the chilling crimes in the small town of Stanton Falls. As newly appointed Police Chief Dan Ross, along with Detective Scalari and rookie Detective Reed, navigate the murky waters of corruption and injustice, they find themselves embroiled in a deeply personal and dangerous investigation. The team embarks on a thrilling journey as they piece together clues, unravel crimes, and bring wrongdoers to justice. The discovery of corruption within their own ranks adds a compelling twist to their mission, emphasizing the importance of integrity in their pursuit to protect Stanton Falls. Despite the dangers, their unwavering commitment to justice shines through, making for an engaging and suspenseful read.
The writing is engaging and accessible, with Reed-Flores’s clear narrative style allowing the story to flow smoothly. The pacing is well-handled, especially as each short story builds upon the last, creating a cohesive and satisfying reading experience. However, I found that while the plot twists were compelling, some of the dialogue could have used a bit more polish to make the characters’ interactions feel more natural. For instance, certain conversations between Ross and his fellow detectives felt a bit stiff, which slightly detracted from the immersion. One of the strengths of this book is its ability to balance the tension of the crime-solving aspects with the personal lives of the characters. Reed-Flores does an excellent job of weaving in moments of vulnerability, particularly in the scenes involving Ross and his family, which add emotional depth to the narrative. The interplay between the professional and personal stakes keeps the reader invested in both the outcomes of the cases and the well-being of the characters. The structure of the book, with its three interconnected short stories, allows for a variety of cases and character developments, which keeps the reader engaged. The mysteries themselves are well-crafted, with clues that are thoughtfully placed and pay off in satisfying resolutions. The final story, which ties together elements from the previous ones, is particularly strong and serves as a fitting conclusion to the trilogy’s middle entry. That said, some of the secondary characters could have been developed further, as they sometimes felt like they were there more to serve the plot than to add richness to the story’s world.
The Stanton Falls Mysteries: Promotion to Peril is an enjoyable read, particularly for fans of cozy mysteries who appreciate a blend of suspense and character-driven storytelling. Reed-Flores’s ability to create a sense of place and community within Stanton Falls makes the town feel like a character in its own right, adding to the overall charm of the book. I would recommend this book to readers who are looking for a light yet engaging mystery that delves into both the personal and professional lives of its characters, with just the right amount of intrigue to keep you turning the pages.
Pages: 209 | ASIN : B0DH2QKQBC
Bad Day for Justice (Warren & Carmichael Legal Thrillers – Book 2)
Bad Day for Justice follows two Seattle lawyers, Sydney Warren and Duncan Carmichael, as they get pulled into the fallout from a brutal year in 1983. A Navy pilot vanishes in a stolen EA-6B Prowler, a huge public power project implodes, and a financial advisor named Harold Dawson dies under very suspicious circumstances. Decades later, the grown children of the supposed killer and the victim, along with the Ortez family from the missing-jet scandal, stumble into a fresh blackmail scheme tied to a lost jewel called the Tsarina’s Spider, and everyone has to decide what “justice” looks like when the truth arrives forty years late.
I really enjoyed how the authors handle the nuts-and-bolts stuff. The legal and military pieces feel grounded, yet the story still moves. The opening sequence with the stolen Prowler has real punch, and the later courtroom work around the Dawson death goes down smooth, even when the arguments get technical. The book hops between Navy bases, Seattle law offices, British Columbia ferries, and a Cascade trailhead, and each place feels authentic. I liked spending time with older versions of Sydney and Duncan. They are competent, stubborn, a little tired, and still fully in the fight. The large cast can feel crowded at first, yet by the time Allison rides that little Aquabus with a fake jewel in her lap, I had a decent handle on who mattered and why.
The core question of justice delayed sits over everything, and the forty-year gap makes that question sting. The children of Dawson and Nowak carry scars from choices they never made, and their scenes together have a quiet ache that lingers. I liked the way the story refuses a clean hero-villain split. Dawson’s suicide, Nowak’s ruined life, Danny Ortez’s desperate choices in the past and his weary acceptance in the present, all of that pushes the book into interesting moral gray. The backstory around the WPPSS bond debacle and the art-heist angle with the Tsarina’s Spider feels like a lot of moving parts, and once or twice, I had to pause and mentally sort out who owed what to whom. Still, the emotional throughline kept pulling me back.
By the end, the big deck gathering at the Carmichaels’ house gave me that mix of relief and unease that I like in a legal thriller. The good guys get some wins, old lies get aired out, reputations get patched, yet there is no magic fix for lost decades or wrecked careers. It feels honest. I would recommend Bad Day for Justice to readers who enjoy character-driven legal thrillers, people interested in the Pacific Northwest and real-world financial messes, and anyone who likes seeing older protagonists treated as full-on leads instead of background mentors. If you want a smart, steady, slightly twisty story about family, accountability, and what “justice” costs once the dust finally settles, this one is worth your time.
Pages: 397 | ASIN : B0GGL6WRDT
From Misfit to Mastery
Shamaness: The Silent Seer follows a young girl born mute but also psychic, who, despite a childhood filled with cruelty, grows into a powerful shamaness. What was the first image or moment that sparked this story for you?
I literally dreamed the story of Kreya, the psychic but mute girl whose destiny takes her on a journey from misfit to mastery. Start to finish, including the main characters and events! It’s the only time that’s happened to me, and it took years after that dream to craft the story.
The shamanic teachings unfold slowly, almost as if the reader is being trained alongside Kreya. Was that intentional?
Yes. In high school when my classmates were exploring psychedelics, I was hunkered down on the floor of the dusty stacks at the local library, reading about ancient cultures and healing traditions. I wanted to share those traditions and beliefs in a way that makes sense for today’s readers. As a corollary, I also teach yoga:).
Kreya’s grandmother’s “rainbow voice” is a striking image. How do symbols like that function in your storytelling?
As a clinician working with individuals of all ages and brain-based conditions, I came to appreciate the role of multisensory experience and understanding. I perceive people in five senses! For me, sounds can inspire colors, just as sights can inspire physiological responses smells inspire memories. Amma’s presence seemed to me like a rainbow, so her speech carries that aspect.
You frame the novel between Kreya’s childhood and her sixtieth summer. Why was it important to tell the story from both ends of her life?
I rewrote the story three times, experimenting with different beginnings/endings and timelines. My wonderful critique partner read the second one and told me to “shred this and start over.” It was the best advice! I realized that the reader needed to know from the beginning that Kreya would not be defeated, that her future was solid.
Author Links: Facebook | Website
The Sinister Nature of Power
The Bent Nail follows 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. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
The inspiration for The Bent Nail, or its predecessor, Nails, came from a sole source. The initial story structure stemmed from a challenge made by a close friend to see if I could develop multiple, separate plot lines and weave them together into a single, coherent, exciting story line. Challenge accepted.
What came from that challenge was the original Nails, a story that introduced the reader to three truly flawed individuals: Tau, Gideon, and Simon; three individuals who erroneously thought they were the uncontested wielders of power in their respective worlds. In effect, they thought they were the hammers of society; individuals who could pound on others and rule with impunity, only to discover their power was an illusion. They were merely nails just like anyone else.
The inspiration for the main character, Tau, is personal experience. I had the opportunity to work closely with an organization whose cause was helping the hopeless. That effort brought me elbow to elbow with people society had cast out into the streets because that was easier than looking for productive alternatives. These people were the products of an unforgiving world, chemical abuse, mental instability, or just bad luck. That was where Tau came from. Tau represents those in our society who are forgotten, lost, and disposed of, but he refuses to be dismissed. He resorts to violence because it’s the advantage he possesses. We fear him because he has nothing to lose. His character hits us hard, not just because he’s a repugnant and vicious individual, but also because he’s so damaged and we see his potential for good.
The story is motivated by what we experience contemporarily. We are bombarded by streams of questionable, repetitive soundbites intended to manipulate, separate, and control. What we end up with is a powerless people subjugated to the will of others. I wanted to portray the sinister nature of power and those individuals who use this to their advantage. Some readers consider The Bent Nail as a warning of the future, others, a reflection of today.
The violence in the book is raw and sometimes difficult to endure. What role does discomfort play in your storytelling?
I wrestled with this. You use the term raw, and it is. And that is very intentional. The violence was necessary to drive home the idea that the world we know is not the comfortable place we believe it to be. A veil of civility might cover up the violent, self-serving nature of man, but that rawness still exists. We see violence, greed, and the desire to control in almost all aspects of society when we look close enough. The Bent Nail challenges us to check ourselves so as not to be seduced by power and wealth.
For me, storytelling requires emotional engagement. Comfort rarely seems to fit with that concept. That’s not to say that my stories are all violent or even troubling. I would suspect many would suggest my Countenance of Man, a touching story of man rediscovering his father through the eyes of others, is emotionally wrenching, but hardly troublesome. The Bent Nail deals with power and corruption; it would be unfair to treat this kindly.
The book challenges the idea of freedom itself. Do you believe freedom is real, conditional, or illusory?
Superb question. Certainly, The Bent Nail would suggest that freedom is illusory, something we think we possess even when the evidence would suggest otherwise. Do I believe that? Not really. In our western society, freedom is absolutely real, not just an abstract concept; however, it is continuously under attack. The struggle is that freedom is not an immutable idea. We have become too comfortable with the notion that freedom never changes, something that once we have it, it will always be there. It’s not. The Bent Nail throws that reality in our face. It challenges us to continuously fight for it even when the consequences might be frightening. In this story, I hope the reader grasps that however frightening it might be to stand up for one’s rights, the alternative is far worse. If not, The Bent Nail becomes something more than a novel; it becomes prophecy.
To quote Benjamin Franklin, “Those who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.
If The Bent Nail leaves readers unsettled long after they close it, what do you hope they do with that feeling?
I hope it leaves the reader unsettled. We live in an unsettled world filled with warring factions fighting for power. The Bent Nail surfaces that and it should bother us all. It illustrates how easy it is for those in authority to manipulate us, be it through engendering class envy, spoon feeding us with blatant misinformation, seducing us with the promise of power, or imposing their will through coercion. Our challenge is to understand who is behind the manipulation and to stand up to them.
The second point I want to leave with the reader is the need to be objective in assessing the world. Not everything is as it seems; adopting the beliefs of friends and neighbors merely because it seems easy and comfortable is dangerous. Of course, if one desires to be nothing but a nail, hammered into acquiescence, in a world similar to one I’ve invented, just keep capitulating to those who desire to control us through power.
Lastly, speaking of power, it is insanely seductive – for all of us. It can overwhelm the desire to do what we know to be right. People might look at these comments in light of what is going on in our society today and assume that The Bent Nail is either right wing or left wing. That’s a perspective thing and would be a tremendous mistake. Neither political side has a monopoly on being correct. Don’t let others tell you what to believe.
M.D. reintroduces the three flawed characters you hated in Nails: Simon, a journalist without a conscience; Gedeon, a murderer without a heart; and Tau, a man without hope. In this masterful sequel, their lives collide as they each struggle to avoid becoming nothing more than hammered nails underpinning a centuries-old, secretive family committed to world dominance. Through deceit, mass murder and economic control the Family seeks to establish a new and lasting world order under their direct and unquestioned authority. Corruption and the seductive nature of power provide the backdrop as Tau, Simon, and Gedeon wrestle with their personal demons as they seek to survive.
Although The Bent Nail is a story that will disturb and frighten even the boldest of readers, it is one that will pull you in and capture you from the first page, a story you won’t be able to put down… and one that you will remember forever.
The Great Dick: And the Dysfunctional Demon
Barry Maher’s The Great Dick and the Dysfunctional Demon starts with a Harvard professor in the late sixties riffing on Moby-Dick and The Great Gatsby and tossing off the idea of a modern version called “The Great Dick.” The story then jumps to 1982 and to Steve Witowski, a thirty-something screwup on the run from a botched drug deal who stumbles into a brutal assault near an old church on the California coast. He tries to help, kills the attacker in chaotic self-defense, and meets Victoria Fairchild, a luminous stranger with secrets of her own. From there, the book slides into a mix of road novel, noir, and supernatural thriller as Steve gets dragged deeper into a tangle of murder, occult relics, demons that may or may not be real, and his own talent for bad decisions.
Steve opens by flat-out calling himself an asshole, and the narration never lets him off the hook. His inner monologue is sharp, petty, funny, horny, scared, sometimes all in the same beat. The writing leans hard into sensory detail and low-level absurdity, like the reek of the Checker cab or the way cheap weed and an old song drift through the scene right before the attack. The fight on the embankment is brutal and weirdly intimate. Keys in his fist, Latin muttered at the worst possible moment, a truck roaring closer. I could feel the panic in my throat. When the book slows down afterward and lets Steve and Victoria talk, that same energy hums under the dialogue. The tone stays casual and foul-mouthed, yet there is a careful rhythm in the sentences. It feels tossed off in the way really worked-over prose often does. I found myself rereading lines just to enjoy how a joke landed or how an image curved at the end.
The book plays with failure and faith in a way that was thought-provoking. Steve keeps trying to patch his life with lies, quick exits, and a little dope, then suddenly he is neck deep in something that smells like capital E Evil. The dagger with the names of Jehovah, Ahura Mazda, Huitzilopochtli, and Asmodeus etched into the handle is such a great symbol for the book’s spiritual chaos. It pulls Jewish, Christian, Zoroastrian, and Aztec gods into the same creepy object and then hands it to a loser who just wanted to dodge a prison sentence. I liked how the story keeps asking what counts as sin, what counts as choice, and where simple cowardice shades into something darker. At the same time, it never reads like a lecture. It feels like a wild story that happens to drag big questions in behind it.
The book is full of sex, violence, and black humor, yet there are small, quiet moves that give it an unexpected emotional weight, little flashes of shame or tenderness or sheer exhausted relief. The setting, work around coastal California, and the abandoned church give the more supernatural turns a solid, grimy base to grow out of, which I really liked, and the whole thing runs on a kind of nervous, late-night momentum.
I would recommend The Great Dick and the Dysfunctional Demon to readers who enjoy flawed, talkative narrators, morally messy thrillers, and horror that leans into both jokes and genuine unease. If you like work in the vein of Carl Hiaasen or early Stephen King but wish it had more occult weirdness and a bit more sex, this will probably hit the spot. For anyone up for a fast, foul-mouthed, slightly unhinged ride that still has something on its mind, I think this book is absolutely worth the trip.
Pages: 464 | ASIN : B0FKWK2K7C
LITERARY TITAN 