Blog Archives
Breath Play
Breath Play is a mystery-thriller that follows Dan Burnett, a retired NYPD detective turned private investigator, as he uncovers the chilling pattern of murdered young nurses whose bodies wash ashore along Long Island Sound. While juggling a budding romance with his girlfriend Mia and supporting his daughter Hannah in her new career, Dan finds himself unable to resist the pull of a developing serial killer case. As each victim’s backstory is revealed, and the investigation tightens around eerie patterns and disturbing truths, the book builds a slow, suspenseful momentum filled with quiet tension and emotional depth.
I enjoyed the way the book mixes the peaceful rhythm of Dan’s post-retirement life with the unsettling presence of violent crime. The writing is smooth and conversational. Like listening to someone recount an incredible story. The dialogue is natural, the pacing is just right, and the scenes between Dan and Mia are some of the most intimate I’ve read, not just physically, but emotionally. The sensual moments don’t feel forced; they feel like part of a very real, very lived-in relationship. That kind of emotional realism adds a weight to the story that goes beyond solving murders.
What I appreciated was how the story took its time, weaving in layers of Dan’s life beyond the central investigation. The car theft subplot, in particular, added depth and a welcome change of pace, giving us a fuller picture of Dan’s world and the kind of cases he handles. It might not have been directly tied to the serial killer thread, but that contrast made the darker moments hit even harder. The life of a PI isn’t just one mystery at a time, and Terhaar captures that beautifully. The suspense crept in slowly, building until I realized I was completely hooked. And those Elsa Nordstrom reports are absolute gut-punches. They brought the victims to life in a way that was deeply moving.
This book isn’t just for crime fiction fans, it’s for readers who love characters with heart, quiet moments that carry weight, and thrillers that don’t rely on explosions to keep your attention. If you’re someone who enjoys character-driven mysteries with a slow burn and a touch of romance, Breath Play will stick with you. It’s warm, dark, tender, and smart. I’d recommend it to anyone looking for a mystery that feels personal.
Pages: 229 | ASIN : B0FH7MLZGK
An Ocean Life
T.R. Cotwell’s An Ocean Life is a character-driven novel chronicling the emotional and physical journey of Mark, a stressed-out tech entrepreneur, as he attempts to unwind with his family during a long-awaited trip to Maui. The story moves fluidly between vivid underwater exploration, tense family dynamics, and quiet introspection. While Mark tries to reconnect with his wife Cecilia and their daughters, old habits and personal ambitions resurface, threatening the fragile balance he’s trying to hold onto. At its heart, the book is about reckoning with aging, love, guilt, memory, and the pull of the ocean.
What I liked most about Cotwell’s writing was its intimacy. The prose is sharp but unpretentious, and there’s a warmth in the way he describes both the mundane and the majestic. The dialogue felt natural and unfiltered. Scenes like the failed dinner reservation or the late-night beach encounter made me cringe and laugh at the same time. I felt for Mark, even when he was being a bit stubborn. Cotwell doesn’t paint his protagonist as a hero, and that’s what makes him believable. The underwater scenes are particularly special. There’s a kind of reverence in the way Cotwell writes about the sea. It’s calm, awe-filled, and precise.
Some sections about startup life or diving gear got a bit long. I appreciated the detail, but occasionally it slowed the momentum. I enjoyed Mark’s inner monologue, and I wished Cecilia’s voice came through more. She’s clearly grappling with a lot. Still, their tension is what kept me hooked. They’re two people still in love, trying to remember how to show it, trying to find each other again in the chaos of family, work, and life.
An Ocean Life is tender and thoughtful. It’s for people who have ever felt torn between what they want and what they’ve promised. I’d recommend this book to anyone who enjoys quiet stories with emotional depth, especially readers who have weathered a few storms of their own.
Pages: 347 | ASIN : B0D2L2SBBL
THE SYMBOL
Tay Martin’s The Symbol: Awakening is a futuristic dystopian novel set in a technologically advanced world dominated by a repressive global Council. The story follows Louise Stuart, a fierce prosecutor dedicated to combating violence against women. Through flashbacks and vivid memories, we learn of her tragic past, including the brutal murder of her mother by her abusive father. These events shape her mission to dismantle systemic oppression and bring justice to survivors. Blending elements of science fiction, social commentary, and psychological realism, the novel explores deep emotional scars, the complexities of power, and the enduring human need for connection and hope.
The opening chapters with young Louise and her mother were raw and devastating. Martin doesn’t sugarcoat trauma. Instead, she pushes you face-first into it. Louise’s voice felt personal. Sharp but tender. I could feel her fear, her rage, her exhaustion. What gripped me most wasn’t the flashy futuristic world, though that part was cool, it was the quiet, painful intimacy of surviving and the way that pain echoes years later. Martin weaves together trauma and resistance with such care that you don’t feel like a spectator, you feel like a participant.
Sometimes the narrative leans into exposition, especially when it comes to describing tech or Council protocols. There were moments I wished the dialogue would let the characters speak with more silence and space. But then Martin hits you with lines so real they sting. The pacing could feel uneven, sure. But emotionally, it was constant. One minute, I was furious at the Council. The next, I was holding my breath as Louise tried not to fall apart. I also appreciated the warmth, her friendship with Emma, her complicated bond with Joe, her stubborn, enduring humanity.
I’d recommend The Symbol: Awakening to anyone who cares about justice, trauma recovery, and stories led by resilient, complicated women. If you like dystopias with heart, or character-driven narratives where healing is messy but possible, this is for you.
Pages: 239 | ASIN : B0FGDTR2PZ
PEOPLE PERSONnel
PEOPLE PERSONnel follows Janice Mead, a seasoned HR manager trudging through her final year at a shrinking charity while juggling caregiving for her declining mother and quietly plotting a radical act of mercy. Set against the backdrop of a dreary office and the grey sprawl of southeast England, the story slips between sardonic workplace comedy and unsettling introspection before veering into a shocking yet oddly tender act of revenge and redemption. Holup delivers a narrative that simmers slowly, then boils over in a morally complex and relatable way.
Holup’s writing is dry, sharp, and deeply British. The voice of Janice (or Myra, depending on which identity you trust) is both painfully funny and heart-achingly bitter. Her observations cut deep, especially on ageism, bureaucracy, and the way society quietly dismisses older women. I found myself wincing at how real it all felt. There’s no sugar-coating here. It’s the raw, unfiltered truth of late-career burnout and quiet domestic despair, until, suddenly, it’s a murder mystery disguised as an act of grace.
What really surprised me is how effortlessly Holup builds a character who is both forgettable and unforgettable. Janice is invisible in the way that older women often are, and yet she becomes the exact opposite by the end: powerful, decisive, terrifying in her stillness. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The bees, the gloves, the crispy pancakes, all these odd details add up to something chillingly intimate. The ending, though extreme, felt almost inevitable. It left me with that odd emotional mix of satisfaction and sadness, like watching a long-overdue storm finally break over a parched field.
If you like character-driven fiction with bite, with humour that borders on cruelty but never loses its humanity, then you’ll get a lot out of it. It’s perfect for readers who enjoy Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine, but wish Eleanor had a darker side and a plot to poison someone. PEOPLE PERSONnel is bleak, funny, and full of feeling.
Pages: 307 | ASIN : B0FC462XY8
Calypso Blue: A Len Buonfiglio/Caribbean Mystery
Calypso Blue is a murder mystery set on the lush and vividly imagined Caribbean island of St. Pierre. The story follows Len Buonfiglio, a former New York bartender turned island bar owner, who is reluctantly drawn into a local web of secrets, violence, and intrigue after the suspicious death of Lord Ram, a beloved calypso legend. As the island buzzes with rumors and buried histories start to surface, Len navigates local culture, his own past, and a cast of unforgettable characters to piece together the truth. All the while, the book pulses with the rhythm of soca, rum punch, and the heady, sometimes seedy charm of island life.
The writing is slick, confident, and casually poetic in spots, with Silverman painting scenes that feel both intimate and expansive. What stood out to me most was the deep emotional undercurrent. Len isn’t your average amateur sleuth. He’s haunted, tired, and trying hard not to admit how much he cares. I found myself rooting for him even when he seemed too worn out to root for himself. And the dialogue is sharp, funny, and soaked in local flavor. It felt real, not forced. The island, with all its beauty and bite, practically becomes a character in itself.
I didn’t always feel the plot moved as swiftly as I wanted, especially when the book leans into Len’s reflections or side conversations. But even then, there’s a richness to the detours, whether it’s a discussion about calypso lyrics or a strange bottle of vermouth left on a doorstep, the atmosphere always pulls you back in. It’s a story that trusts its characters and its setting to carry the weight, and mostly, they do.
Calypso Blue is an intriguing whodunit. It’s a meditation on regret, redemption, and the thin line between paradise and ruin. I’d recommend it to anyone who enjoys mysteries with heart, vivid settings, and characters that stay with you after the last page. Perfect for fans of Caribbean noir, or anyone who wants to feel the heat of an island mystery without leaving their chair. It’s not a beach read, it’s a beach experience.
Pages: 277 | ASIN : B0F2S5TPW8
Serves You Right
Orion Gregory’s Serves You Right is a dark, twisty, and deeply satisfying crime thriller centered around Sydney Livingstone, a former tennis pro turned police detective, who finds herself pulled into the aftermath of a botched murder trial, a vigilante justice campaign, and a rapidly escalating series of brutal revenge killings. At the heart of the story is the acquitted-but-clearly-guilty Frank McBride, whose smug escape from justice sets off a chain of events that rattles an entire community and sends Syd on a collision course with both a killer and her own professional limits.
Right out of the gate, I have to say the writing is gripping. Gregory wastes no time dropping readers into the chaos with a gut-punch opening that doesn’t flinch from violence or moral ambiguity. He’s got a sharp instinct for pacing. Chapters fly by, and even when things quiet down, there’s always an undercurrent of tension pulling you forward. The prose isn’t flashy, but it’s effective. I liked that. There’s no pretension. Gregory writes like he’s trying to entertain, not impress. That said, the structure can get a bit dense at times, especially when the book shifts perspectives rapidly. Still, the characters, particularly Syd, are fully realized, flawed, and human. I rooted for her hard, even when she stumbled.
I was pleasantly surprised by the book’s moral weight. This isn’t your tidy detective story with good guys and bad guys in their corners. Gregory plays in the gray, and he plays dirty. The vigilante plotline, spearheaded by a mysterious online persona known only as “The Enforcer,” hit a nerve. There’s a kind of catharsis in seeing monsters get what’s coming to them, but Gregory doesn’t let us off that easily. He asks real questions about justice, about power, about how far is too far. And while he doesn’t hand us answers, he sure knows how to make us squirm while we look for them.
I’d recommend Serves You Right to fans of gritty police procedurals, psychological thrillers, and morally tangled crime fiction. If you like your stories messy, raw, and a little uncomfortable in the best possible way, then you’ll tear through this one like I did. Gregory doesn’t serve justice on a silver platter. He drops it on your doorstep, blood-spattered and blinking.
Pages: 327 | ASIN : B0FD1ZZCCQ
AndroBiotica 2: Journey In Time
AndroBiotica 2: Journey in Time picks up where the first story left off, throwing us straight into a whirlwind of parallel dimensions, mysterious androids, and high-stakes pursuits through space and time. Derrick Faulk and Aurora Zolotov return, still tangled up in the chase for Romulus, the rogue synthetic being who may hold the key to a future none of them understand. As the story unspools, the stakes climb. Secrets multiply. The characters find themselves navigating bizarre timelines, strange worlds, and even stranger versions of themselves. The central question still lingers: what happens when artificial life wants more than just existence?
Gittlin has a way of throwing ideas at the wall, and most of them stick. I loved how unpredictable the story was. One moment we’re in a sterile lab, and the next, we’re tumbling through cosmic portals into alternate Earths. The writing leans on quick scenes and snappy dialogue, which keeps the story clipping along. Still, there were points when I had to pause and reread to make sure I caught what just happened. But the overall ride was wild, weird, and worth it.
What really pulled me in was the tone. This offbeat mix of old-school pulp and heartfelt soul-searching. There’s something relatable in how these characters fumble toward understanding, both of themselves and of the androids they’re trying to control. The themes sneak up on you. Identity. Freedom. What it means to be real. I caught myself sympathizing with Romulus more than I expected. There’s a sadness to him that lingers. I didn’t love every bit of the prose, but the heart of the story beats strong. You can feel that the author cares about these characters, and that pulls you in deeper.
Journey in Time isn’t just a sci-fi adventure. It’s a strange, thoughtful look at what it means to evolve. It doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. It asks the questions anyway. I’d recommend this book to sci-fi readers who like their stories messy, fast, and full of big ideas. If you liked the first book in the series, this one’s even more ambitious.
Pages: 222 | ASIN : B0D94ZDZ49
The AndroBiotica File: Nearly Human
The AndroBiotica File: Nearly Human is a fast-paced science fiction novella that centers on Derrick Faulk, a hard-nosed investigator for the National Science Service, tasked with recovering a stolen file that contains plans for hyper-realistic androids. Alongside his savvy and mysterious partner, Aurora Zolotov, Faulk dives headfirst into a high-stakes investigation that quickly evolves into a journey across dimensions. With synthetic humans on the verge of becoming indistinguishable from the real thing, and a rogue android possibly escaping to a parallel world, the story explores the fine line between artificial and alive intelligence, all while blending espionage, sci-fi tech, and a dose of romantic tension.
Reading this novella was like getting dropped into a high-tech thriller with just enough emotional grit to keep you grounded. I liked how David Gittlin built the world. It’s slick, slightly offbeat, and full of detail, but he doesn’t drown you in explanation. The pacing moves. And Faulk’s dry wit cuts through the tension in just the right way. That said, some dialogue can feel a little stiff, and the inner monologues tend to meander. Still, there’s charm in how raw and personal the narration is. Gittlin isn’t afraid to let his characters brood, stumble, or flirt awkwardly. I appreciated that. Also, the tech hit the sweet spot between weird and cool.
But what really got me thinking was the heart of the story. This idea that machines are edging closer to life. What happens when they start wanting things? Romulus, the runaway android, is more than a plot twist; he’s a whole ethical hand grenade. There’s something unsettling and sad about him, like a kid who outgrew his purpose. The bigger questions about work, identity, and control aren’t hammered home, but they hover in the background. It’s sci-fi that’s self-aware without being smug.
The AndroBiotica File is a fun ride. It’s got brains, action, and just enough emotional punch to make you care what happens when the gears start turning in the wrong direction. I’d recommend this to anyone who loves near-future science fiction with a pulpy edge and a conspiratorial tone. Fans of Michael Crichton, Blade Runner, or even Altered Carbon will enjoy this story.
Pages: 112 | ASIN : B0CN5YSZL5
LITERARY TITAN 