Blog Archives
Land Without Shame
Land Without Shame is a fast-paced Christian action thriller set in a gritty future where Cody Musket Jr. carries the legacy of a heroic family name. Twenty years from now, the world is plagued by political chaos, human trafficking, and high-tech warfare. When Cody finds himself in Caracas, rescuing a baby from a dumpster, he’s thrown into a whirlwind of danger involving plane crashes, guerrilla warlords, underground resistance groups, and a starlet who discovers her strength in the middle of tragedy. The story follows Cody’s mission to rescue victims of trafficking while wrestling with his own call to bravery, sacrifice, and faith.
Let me say this right off the bat, I was hooked from the very first chapter. The writing is raw and cinematic. It doesn’t waste time with fluff. It hits you with emotion, action, and conviction. I appreciated the way Miller balances suspense with moments of heart. The book feels personal, like the author poured his soul into these characters. There’s grit in Cody’s journey, but also tenderness. I felt the danger in the jungle, the pressure inside the crashing plane, the lump in my throat when Cody rescues a newborn from the garbage. Miller knows how to build tension, and he does it with simple words that hit hard. The inclusion of grounded Christian values didn’t feel preachy, it felt like backbone.
What surprised me the most was how much the characters grew on me, especially Diamond Casper. At first, she seemed like just another spoiled celebrity, but watching her come apart and rebuild herself through pain and survival, that hit differently. It’s not just a rescue story. It’s about redemption. About choosing courage even when your knees are shaking. The villains are ugly in all the right ways, but the heroes? They’re messy, complicated, sometimes broken, but they rise. And I admire that. Even the sci-fi tech isn’t overdone. It just feels like part of the world without stealing the spotlight from what matters.
Land Without Shame is a bold, unapologetic adventure. It’s thrilling, emotional, and deeply rooted in themes of family, sacrifice, and faith. I’d recommend this book to readers who enjoy clean but intense stories with spiritual weight, especially fans of action thrillers, survival tales, or stories with strong moral centers. If you like your heroes bruised but brave, and your endings hard-earned, this book delivers.
Pages: 247 | ASIN : B0F4MDDH9C
Hunting the Red Fox
W. Kenneth Tyler, Jr.’s Hunting the Red Fox is a captivating blend of memoir, oral history, and tall tale, centered around a fictionalized interview with Perry Barnes, a smooth-talking Southern gentleman with a lifetime of secrets to tell. What begins as a simple attempt by aspiring writer Roger Mace to collect interesting life stories quickly evolves into something much bigger: an odyssey through a shadowy past involving golf legends, World War II covert missions, romance, betrayal, and an alleged jewel heist. Framed by Perry’s recollections, the book unfolds like a front-porch storytelling session, rich with charm, exaggeration, and confessional wisdom.
I was drawn in by the writing. Tyler has a real ear for voice. Perry Barnes feels so authentic, I kept forgetting this was fiction. The dialogue sparkles. It’s smooth, sharp, funny. And while some of Perry’s tales stretch believability, the way they’re told makes you want to believe them. The pacing is tight in all the right spots, and the narrative flow, zigzagging through time, memory, and golf courses, is handled with grace. At times, the prose gets almost poetic, especially when touching on themes of regret, legacy, and the slippery nature of truth. It’s like listening to your grandfather spin a yarn, and just when you think he’s done, he throws in something wild that makes your jaw drop.
Perry’s life is so full of colorful twists, from covert wartime ops to high-society cons, that it sometimes borders on unbelievable. I kept asking myself, “Is this guy for real?” But then again, maybe that’s the point. The blur between truth and performance is the whole game here. And Roger, our narrator, is no fool, he questions everything right along with the reader. It’s a smart move, and it kept me from getting too cynical. The later chapters dip into melodrama a bit, especially when the big reveals start rolling in. Still, it’s all forgivable. The storytelling voice is just that strong.
Hunting the Red Fox is an enjoyable read. It’s clever without being smug, emotional without getting sappy, and grounded in the kind of nostalgic, detail-rich Americana that makes you want to go sit on a front porch and watch the sunset. I’d recommend this book to anyone who loves character-driven storytelling, golf history with a twist, or stories about redemption wrapped in mystery. It’s not just a story about one man’s wild past, it’s about how we make sense of our lives and the stories we choose to tell. If you’ve got a soft spot for Southern charm, mystery, and a narrator who can hold a bourbon and a secret with equal style, this one’s for you.
Pages: 300 | ASIN : B0F1FW1KKQ
Someone Had to Lie
Jack Luellen’s Someone Had to Lie is a sharply-paced legal-political thriller that follows James Butler, an attorney drawn back into the deadly world of drug cartels and covert operations after the mysterious murder of his close friend, retired DEA agent Joe Aguilar. When Aguilar leaves behind a cryptic file hinting at something “bigger” than they had ever imagined, possibly tied to the fentanyl crisis, the CIA, and unspeakable corruption, James and his wife, Erica, set off on a relentless, twisty journey for truth. What they uncover challenges their assumptions, endangers their lives, and demands justice in a world where institutions may not be what they seem.
I got hooked fast. The writing moves like a freight train: short chapters, lots of movement, and cliffhangers that kept me saying, “Just one more.” Luellen knows his legal lingo and law enforcement dynamics, but he doesn’t get bogged down in it. What I liked was how natural the dialogue felt. It had snap and humor, especially between James and Erica, which gave some breathing room between the darker turns of the plot. That balance made it feel real. The emotional weight of losing a friend, the slow burn of uncovering buried secrets, and the creeping dread of being watched all rang true. Sometimes the exposition leaned a little heavy, especially when laying out CIA history or drug policy, but even that fed the tension and gave backbone to the conspiracy.
But what really kept me invested were the questions Luellen pushed forward. What happens when people who are supposed to protect us start playing by their own rules? What if the truth never fits in a soundbite or a press release? The book doesn’t serve easy answers, and I liked that. It leaves room for moral messiness. Erica, especially, stood out. She’s not a sidekick. She’s sharp, she’s bold, and she holds her own without being written as a cliché. And James, for all his competence, feels human. Tired, grieving, angry. The fact that this story had roots in real history (Iran-Contra, CIA allegations, the fentanyl epidemic) made it hit even harder. It’s a fiction book that feels almost too believable for comfort.
Someone Had to Lie is gripping, gutsy, and unapologetically current. It’s a solid choice for readers who love political thrillers, legal intrigue, or true crime vibes with just enough fiction to keep the pages flying. If you liked The Pelican Brief or Narcos, this’ll be right up your alley. It’s a thriller that makes you think about who’s pulling strings in the shadows.
Pages: 312 | ASIN : B0DK7NWSZL
The Weird Girl
The Weird Girl by Carla Damron is a fast-moving and emotionally charged novel that plunges into the dark heart of opioid addiction, teen vulnerability, and the long shadows of power and privilege. Set in a small South Carolina town, the book follows a multi-threaded narrative centered around Tessa, a trauma-scarred foster teen; Lily Grace, a sheltered, socially awkward girl; and Georgia, a social worker struggling to hold her foster family together. When a tragic hit-and-run at a high school party injures popular girl Sara Clark, the town is forced to reckon with secrets, lies, and the consequences of denial. As police investigations unfold, truths about drugs, justice, and who gets protected come to light.
The thing I liked about Damron’s writing was how authentic and raw it felt. The dialogue is crisp, often painfully real, and never overpolished. Characters felt alive, flawed, messy, complicated. Tessa’s inner world, filled with a mix of bitterness, longing, and resilience, was beautifully rendered. Georgia, the foster mom and social worker, was probably my favorite. She’s stubborn and human and funny in all the right ways. The scenes from the hospital, in particular, hit hard. As someone who’s seen how addiction can gut a community, I appreciated that this book didn’t sugarcoat anything. The emotional weight is heavy, but never cheap. There were moments when I had to stop and breathe.
Parts of the book made me furious, not about the book, though. The way the legal system is manipulated by those with money, how teenagers are left to flounder while adults spin their reputations like a game, got under my skin. And it should. The book pulls no punches about privilege and corruption, and I found myself wanting to shake some of the characters. Damron doesn’t wrap everything up in a neat little bow, and I loved that. Real life isn’t tidy.
I’d recommend The Weird Girl to readers who appreciate character-driven fiction with heart, guts, and grit. It’s perfect for anyone interested in social issues, especially those who work in schools, healthcare, or with youth. It’s not a light read, but it’s a powerful one. And while the book tackles big themes, it’s the quiet moments, two girls walking after school, a mom worrying late at night, that you’ll remember after finishing this book.
Pages: 359 | ASIN: B0FKZHNY7T
The Sins of a Mermaid
The Sins of a Mermaid is a poignant and surprisingly heartfelt novel set in the sleepy coastal town of Amorosa. What begins as a quiet tale of small-town rhythms and forgotten places slowly transforms into a deeply moving story about belief, loneliness, and the unexpected intersections of science and myth. At its core is Munir, a socially awkward marine archaeologist, who arrives in town claiming he’s researching the appearance of a mermaid. His presence upends the town’s fragile quiet. But it’s the parallel story of Summer, a young woman fighting a brutal battle with leukemia, that gives this novel its emotional backbone. Through their strange but tender friendship, the book weaves a story about loss, hope, and the raw hunger for meaning.
There’s something about the way Piroso writes that makes the book feel both otherworldly and grounded. His sentences often land like quiet waves, slow and soft, but every so often one crashes over you and pulls you under. I was especially taken with the atmosphere of Amorosa and how vividly it was rendered. It felt real. But what really hooked me was the character work. Munir is awkward and stubborn, but his pain, especially his deteriorating vision, is portrayed with such honesty that I couldn’t help but feel for him. And Summer… her sections resonated with me. Piroso captures her despair without wallowing in it. He lets her be angry, cold, funny, smart, bitter, hopeful, everything at once. That made her feel real.
The story moves slowly. It lingers. There were parts where the prose felt indulgent. But even in those slower bits, the heart of the story never disappeared. It’s also a bit wild in tone. Part small-town character study, part magical realism, part medical drama. Somehow, it all holds together, and when I reached the final pages, I realized I’d been holding my breath. The ending doesn’t offer tidy resolutions. It offers a quiet and aching beauty.
I’d recommend The Sins of a Mermaid to readers who love intimate, character-driven stories with a touch of mystery and myth. If you’re someone who enjoys books that make you sit in your feelings and think about the lines between belief and reason, life and death, love and surrender, this one will stay with you.
Pages: 243 | ASIN : B0F75HQ388
Willow Rose: A Novel
Willow Rose is a suspenseful, strange, and emotionally complex story that follows Dr. Alder Peony, a burned-out ER doctor stationed in a remote Minnesota hospital, as his quiet life begins to unravel in the wake of a mysterious comet streaking across the sky. When a young girl named Willow shows up out of nowhere, bloody, alone, and eerily self-assured, Alder gets pulled into something much deeper and darker than he expects. As strange phenomena begin to twist the world around him, Alder must confront not only external dangers but the mess of his own past, his guilt, and his longing for connection.
I was pulled in by how personal this story felt, even amid the sci-fi weirdness and apocalyptic tension. Hayden’s writing is confident but not showy. There’s a rhythm to it. Poetic in spots, sharp in others, and it balances the mundane and the cosmic really well. Some moments had me laughing with their casual honesty; others left me sitting in still silence, chewing on what just happened. I loved the flawed humanity of Alder. He’s no superhero. He’s lonely, exhausted, and at times bitter, but he’s also deeply decent, and watching him try (and sometimes fail) to do the right thing felt painfully real. The scenes with Faith and Willow, especially those quiet, in-between moments, made me feel something deep in my chest. It’s a rare thing for a book to hit that emotional frequency so consistently.
There were moments that leaned into mystery a bit more than I expected, and I occasionally found myself wishing for just a little more clarity. The comet’s influence begins with a quiet unease, then gradually shifts into something far more surreal. For some, that shift might feel too sharp or confusing. But I kind of liked the chaos. It made sense, in a weird way, that the story unraveled the same way Alder’s grip on normalcy did. You don’t get a tidy bow here. This is a story about being haunted by loss, trying to heal when you don’t know how, and maybe finding a thread to hang on to when everything else slips away.
I’d recommend Willow Rose to anyone who likes their fiction a little messy, a little emotional, and very relatable. If you’re into character-driven stories with threads of sci-fi, mystery, and deep feeling, think The Leftovers or Midnight Mass, then you’ll enjoy this book. It’s not flashy or high-octane, but it stays with you. I closed the final page with my chest tight and my mind still buzzing.
Pages: 201 | ASIN : B0DVSL6LPR
Wednesday Night Whites
Wednesday Night Whites is a taut and provocative thriller set in the chilly backdrop of Chester, Nova Scotia. The story follows Azalea “Zale” Augustine, a determined lawyer drawn into a deep and dangerous conspiracy involving the town’s decades-long epidemic of missing women. What starts as a cryptic WhatsApp message leads her into a hidden war room beneath a beloved library, where truths unravel about white supremacy, political corruption, and the horrifying commodification of women. Zale’s world spirals as she learns one of her own law partners, an arrogant, magnetic, and secretly monstrous man, may be at the heart of it all. What unfolds is a story of fear, betrayal, strength, and the long shadows of history reaching into the present.
The writing is crisp and fast, the kind that doesn’t ask for your attention but grabs it by the collar and won’t let go. The dialogue, especially between Zale and her friend Jett, felt raw and real, like actual women whispering in a kitchen late at night. I found myself rooting for Zale hard. She’s sharp but not perfect, confident but wounded, and so very relatable. Her trauma is treated with care, not glossed over. The tension builds fast and deep, with revelations that made my stomach twist. Melvin does an incredible job layering dread with hope, fear with grit. The pacing is relentless in a good way. No fluff. No drag. Just a relentless storm of plot, character, and emotion.
But what stuck with me most was the guts of this story. The way it dared to look at how women disappear, figuratively and literally, and how society just keeps going like it’s normal. The white supremacy thread was chilling, not just because of its historical roots, but because it’s all too believable. There were moments I had to stop and take a breath. Melvin doesn’t hold back. And while some of the plot elements stretch reality, it never breaks. It just leans into its own dark momentum and dares you to follow. The villains are grotesque in a way that feels scarily possible, which makes the stakes feel even higher. Also, her writing on female friendship and resilience hit a nerve. It’s angry in the right places. It’s tender where it needs to be.
If you’re looking for a story that blends psychological suspense, crime drama, and social commentary with a raw emotional edge, this book is it. I’d recommend Wednesday Night Whites to readers who crave dark, intelligent thrillers with a strong feminist backbone. It’s for anyone who’s ever felt afraid walking alone or felt the chill of being dismissed, doubted, or watched.
The Dark District Primer: Duology on the Lore and Lure of the Dark District
C.J. Edmunds’ Dark District Primer is a strange, soulful, and genre-bending exploration of myth, memory, and magic rooted in the Philippines. It combines two novellas, Sojourn and Take Me Now, weaving personal identity with fantasy, Filipino folklore with urban life, and spiritual questions with surreal encounters. The main narrator, David Lansing, acts as our curious guide, relaying his disorienting journey through magical encounters, visions of cultural archetypes, and confrontations with hidden truths. These experiences are framed through a personal, at times confessional, lens as he is summoned by a supernatural Council to explain his strange awakening in the Dark District.
Reading this felt like peeling through layers of memory, myth, and grief. The writing style is introspective and poetic at times, with bursts of long, flowing paragraphs that spill over with emotion and insight. Edmunds has a real knack for setting scenes that feel alive. The haunting streets of Manila, the hidden halls of the Council, even the surreal blankness of the otherworldly realms. At its heart, though, what struck me most was how much Dark District Primer is about identity, especially queer identity, cultural identity, and spiritual reckoning. I could feel the author writing through pain and purpose, and while some parts meandered or repeated themselves, the raw honesty kept me hooked. The lore is fascinating, especially the blending of Filipino myths like the Tikbalang and Manananggal with modern, urban queer life.
The ending of Take Me Now leaves just enough unanswered that I found myself eager to dive into the next chapter of the story. That brings me to Take My Hand, the upcoming installment teased at the end of the book. The preview promises bigger stakes and deeper dives into the lore. Take My Hand promises to have more world-building and capitalize on the lore in the introspective tone that I enjoyed.
There were times when whole pages spiraled into inner monologue, and the pacing slowed in the second half of Sojourn, where narrative momentum gave way to philosophical reflection. Edmunds isn’t just telling a story, he’s sharing something personal and vulnerable. You can feel the care and love he has for the lore, the community, and the craft.
I’d recommend this book to readers who want something different. If you like urban fantasy with depth, or if you’re curious about queer stories grounded in Southeast Asian myth, this will hit home. It’s not a quick read, but it rewards with a haunting and heartfelt experience. Especially for queer readers, Filipino readers, or anyone feeling caught between two worlds.
Pages: 298 | ASIN : B0FDGS86JT
LITERARY TITAN 