Blog Archives
If We’re Brave Enough
Filaments follows a professor returning to her small hometown to investigate her mother’s strange behavior that is linked to two men’s disappearances and a supernatural force connected to her family. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
I always begin with setting. For this story, I immersed myself in scientific literature about bogs, and the narrative naturally grew from there. During my research, I discovered Sax-Zim Bog in Minnesota—a place that felt like the perfect backdrop for the tale to unfold. From that foundation, I shaped the characters to feel both relatable and grounded, anchoring them in the eerie beauty of the landscape.
What are some things that you find interesting about the human condition that you think make for great fiction?
Our lives run in parallel, each seemingly separate, yet deeply intertwined. We often believe ourselves to be isolated individuals, but in truth, we are threads in a vast, living ecosystem. The suffering we endure is not ours alone—it echoes and reverberates in ways we may never fully comprehend.
Filaments, I felt, was about generational trauma, addiction, and identity. What is one thing that you hope readers take away from the story?
The narratives we craft about ourselves are often the hardest to unravel. Yet becoming our true self is possible—if we’re brave enough to dismantle the facade we’ve built. It takes courage to confront the stories we’ve clung to, but in doing so, we make space for authenticity to emerge.
What is the next book that you are working on, and when can your fans expect it to be out?
I’m beyond excited about my next book! It leans a bit more into sci-fi, but the threads that define my writing style remain firmly in place. This story will spotlight female-driven narratives, unfolding within a world that breathes life into their journeys—infused with a touch of quiet horror. I’m aiming to publish next year, and I can’t wait to share it with you.
Author Links: Amazon | GoodReads
Drawn back to her Minnesota small town, Thea begins to unravel the mystery behind her mother’s erratic behavior and two men’s disappearances. She unknowingly awakens a force that has patiently waited in the shadows for her return. With each new revelation, Thea’s accosted by her small town’s prejudice and simmering bitterness of former friends. What started out as a trip to save her mother becomes a fight for her own survival and sanity.
Brutal Disclosure
Brutal Disclosure is a gritty, emotionally raw thriller that follows Declan O’Neill, a young man from Brighton whose world collapses after the mysterious death of his brother, Sean. Fleeing the suffocating poverty, crime, and guilt of his past, Declan escapes to New York in search of reinvention. What he finds instead is a world equally unforgiving, one full of hustlers, danger, and fleeting kindnesses. The book is both a crime story and a character study, tracing Declan’s struggle to survive and make sense of loss while navigating the dark edges of human nature. Author Kevin Polin writes with cinematic detail, turning each grimy alley and smoky bar into a character of its own.
Reading it, I felt pulled into Declan’s head. His fear, his anger, and his yearning for meaning hit hard. Polin doesn’t write clean or polite sentences. His prose feels lived-in, raw, broken in places, honest to a fault. The dialogue sounds real, almost like an overheard conversation. There’s a deep sadness running through every chapter, but it’s balanced by moments of unexpected gentleness, especially in Declan’s encounters with Isabella and the people who briefly pass through his life. Polin never romanticizes suffering, and that makes the story hit even harder. The writing reminded me of early Irvine Welsh or Roddy Doyle, where every bit of grime carries weight.
It’s dark, sometimes brutal, and not every turn feels comfortable. But that’s the point. Polin’s world is painfully real, the kind of truth you don’t want to admit exists. Still, there’s something human and tender at its core. Declan’s longing to become someone better, someone whole, kept me turning the pages. I caught myself caring about him like he was a real person, stumbling through a place that doesn’t care whether he makes it or not. The pacing sometimes lags when the scenes stretch long, but Polin’s eye for detail makes even the quiet moments matter.
I’d recommend Brutal Disclosure to readers who appreciate dark, character-driven fiction, readers who liked Trainspotting or A Clockwork Orange, or anyone drawn to stories about lost souls trying to find a way out. If you want something that feels real, something that bleeds a little, this one’s worth the ride.
Pages: 280
Golem Mine
Golem Mine is a story that blends sensuality, faith, myth, and madness into a haunting exploration of creation and obsession. It follows Rachel Rabinowitz, a passionate film student whose fascination with cinema, particularly early horror and the Frankenstein myth, draws her into a spiritual and psychological descent. Through her study of Mary Shelley and Jewish mysticism, Rachel becomes obsessed with the idea of the Golem, the legendary creature made of clay and breath. Her journey from curiosity to conviction takes her from classrooms to synagogues to the quiet heartland of America, searching for the knowledge to create life and, maybe, to understand her own.
Author Donald Schwartz writes with a lyrical, fevered energy, almost like he’s channeling the story rather than crafting it. At times, the prose is hypnotic, sentences twist and roll like the waves of Rachel’s inner turmoil. I loved the audacity of it, how the story dared to tangle faith with lust, myth with modernity. Rachel’s voice lingers with you, raw and unpredictable, torn between intellect and impulse. I found myself alternately enchanted and disturbed, which I suspect was exactly the author’s intent.
This is a dense read. The language can feel heavy with philosophical weight. But there’s rhythm in it, a strange music that rewards patience. I admired how Schwartz stitched together cinematic history, Jewish lore, and feminist thought into something that defies genre. It’s erotic and sacred, tragic and funny in small flashes. Some moments made me squirm, others made me grin, and a few stopped me cold. Beneath the shock and sensuality, there’s a deep sadness in Rachel’s need to create, to be seen, to make sense of her own divinity.
When I closed the book, I felt a mix of exhaustion and awe. Golem Mine is not a casual read. It’s an experience. I’d recommend it to readers who crave something daring and layered, who don’t mind wrestling with big questions about creation, God, and the dangerous hunger for meaning. It’s for those who like their stories wild, intimate, and just a little unhinged.
Pages: 135
Flee
Tracy Myhre’s Flee picks up where the first book of the Haven series left off, and it doesn’t waste a single beat. The story follows Sadie Masters, a young Marine Reserve and librarian-in-training, as her bus journey to a family reunion turns into a desperate fight for survival after a nuclear catastrophe devastates Washington State. Interwoven with her storyline are the perspectives of others, family, friends, and strangers, all caught in the chaos that follows society’s collapse. Myhre builds a world where every decision feels like it could be someone’s last, and every relationship is tested by fear, loyalty, and grief. It’s a book about what we hold onto when everything else falls apart.
I found Myhre’s writing raw and alive. She doesn’t dress things up or linger on flowery descriptions. Instead, she cuts straight to the emotion of the moment. The dialogue feels natural, sometimes painfully so, like listening in on real conversations you wish you hadn’t overheard. Sadie’s voice especially stands out. It’s strong yet vulnerable, brave yet messy in all the right ways. The pacing is quick. Chapters snap forward like jolts, each one dragging you into another cliffhanger or gut punch. Some scenes, especially the violent or intimate ones, feel real. They left me breathless and a bit shaken. That’s not a complaint, though, it’s proof that Myhre knows exactly how to get under a reader’s skin.
What impressed me most was how the book handles survival and morality without getting preachy. It’s not about heroes or villains, it’s about people just trying to live through impossible choices. I loved the smaller human moments, like Sadie’s flashbacks to her mother, or the quiet fear in characters who’ve already lost too much. At times, I did wish the story would slow down and let those moments breathe a little longer, but maybe that tension is the point. In Myhre’s world, there’s no time to rest.
I’d recommend Flee to anyone who loves survival stories that make your heart race and your mind spin. It’s perfect for readers who enjoyed The Road or Station Eleven, but want something a bit more grounded in family and personal history. It’s emotional, dark, and real. I finished it feeling wrung out and strangely hopeful, the kind of book that doesn’t just tell a story, it makes you feel like you’ve lived through it too.
Pages: 386 | ASIN : B0FQ1H1WRH
The Tilted Palace: Weeds of Misfortune
The Tilted Palace: Weeds of Misfortune is a haunting and human story about broken souls trying to stitch themselves back together. It opens with Jimmy Ray Crandall, a retired Green Beret haunted by Vietnam and marooned in the quiet of small-town Massachusetts. His loneliness seeps through every line until a wounded stray dog, and later a disheveled pastor named Trinity Hathaway, stumble into his life. What follows is a gritty, sometimes funny, often painful dance between despair and redemption. Through late-night bourbon, raw honesty, and shared pain, two strangers become mirrors of each other’s brokenness. It’s not a simple war story or a tale of faith. It’s about survival when everything that gave life meaning has already burned to ash.
The writing pulls no punches. It’s blunt, messy, and real. The author writes like someone who’s seen too much and refuses to pretty it up. The dialogue, sharp and layered, swings between biting sarcasm and quiet revelation. There’s a strange rhythm to it, like life itself, uneven but true. Some scenes hit me hard, especially when the pastor and the soldier lay their wounds bare. Both want to die, yet somehow keep each other alive. The dog, Jezz, might be the most human of them all. She’s the glue, the silent witness to two lost people trying not to drown.
This is an emotional book. It made me angry at how war chews up men like Jimmy Ray and spits them out forgotten. It made me ache for people like Trinity, trying to preach hope while secretly running on fumes. There’s no sermon here, just raw humanity. The story doesn’t tie things up neatly, which I liked. Life rarely does. The prose has its rough edges, sure, but they fit the characters. They live in those jagged lines. At times, the story drifts into monologues that feel like confessionals, and that works because I feel like the whole book is one long confession.
I’d recommend The Invisibles to readers who crave something honest and bruised. I think it’s for those who understand that redemption doesn’t always look holy and that healing can start with a bottle, a stranger, or a dog scratching at the door. For me, this book wasn’t just a story; it was an experience.
Pages: 253 | ASIN : B0FF4B3CF5
The Tralls of Mundi
The Tralls of Mundi continues the imaginative world Gayle Torrens first opened in The Tralls of Nindarry. Set in a vividly Australian-inspired fantasy land, it follows Jete and his kin as they journey to the long-awaited “Coming Together” of the tralldoms. What begins as a joyful reunion quickly twists into an adventure full of danger, mystery, and courage. Torrens builds a realm both whimsical and meaningful, where talking creatures, magical plants, and mythical beings shape a tale about loyalty, bravery, and the strength of community. It’s a story for children and young teens but layered enough to keep adults engaged, too.
Reading this book felt like wandering through a sunlit dream in a forest filled with mythical creatures. The author’s writing has warmth and rhythm. It’s easy to hear the voice of a teacher who knows how to hold a young listener’s attention. Sometimes the descriptions stretch a little long, but the detail also makes the world feel alive and real. I found myself caring about Jete and his friends. Their courage felt honest and their fears familiar. The villains are satisfyingly nasty, yet the story avoids becoming too dark. The tone stays hopeful, grounded in the belief that good hearts and brave choices matter most.
What I loved most was how Australian it felt without being heavy-handed. You can almost smell the bushland and hear the kookaburras. The dialogue has a simplicity that works. It makes the story easy to follow and keeps the fantasy believable. There are moments where I wished the pacing moved faster. Still, the heart of the story, the lessons about friendship, resilience, and doing what’s right even when you’re scared, rings true. It made me think about how small acts of courage can ripple through generations.
The Tralls of Mundi is a heartfelt and imaginative read that blends adventure with a gentle sense of wisdom. It’s perfect for young readers who love fantasy with moral depth, or for parents and teachers who enjoy reading aloud stories that spark discussion about values and bravery. It’s not just a tale of magic and tralls, it’s a celebration of storytelling itself, and it left me smiling long after I turned the last page.
Pages: 306 | ISBN : 1543198619
DARKER THAN BLOOD (The Psychic Thriller Experience)
Taylor Marsh’s Darker Than Blood is a psychological and spiritual thriller that threads together trauma, intuition, and the battle between light and dark energy. It follows Gaynell Debs, a brilliant but fractured psychic researcher who investigates crimes through energetic and spiritual phenomena while confronting her own buried past. The story moves between philosophical musings on the soul and gripping scenes of investigation, murder, and mysticism. It’s part psychological study, part metaphysical manifesto, and part crime story, all wrapped in a stream of intense emotion and strange beauty.
The writing is poetic, rhythmic, almost hypnotic at times. Marsh writes with conviction, though her style can be dense, full of spiritual theories and raw inner dialogue. Still, I couldn’t look away. Gaynell’s voice is sharp, vulnerable, and maddeningly honest. I found myself torn between skepticism and belief, between wanting to shake her and wanting to protect her. The blend of astrology, psychology, and metaphysics is bold, and even when I didn’t buy every claim, I admired the audacity of it all. The emotional tension is constant, and that’s what makes it compelling, there’s never a dull page, just moments that leave you unsettled and curious.
At times, the prose teeters on the edge of chaos, but that’s part of the charm. Marsh writes like she’s chasing truth. I felt that too, reading it. The story jumps from intimate confessions to philosophical revelations, and I loved the unpredictability. The dialogue is raw and relatable, especially between Gaynell and Nun. There’s a deep current of loneliness running beneath the mysticism, and it hit me harder than I expected. The ideas about trauma, energy, and emotional alchemy are strange but oddly comforting. It’s a book that feels alive, pulsing with the author’s own search for meaning.
Darker Than Blood is a rewarding read. It’s for readers who crave intensity and don’t mind getting lost in spiritual terrain that feels dangerous and divine. I’d recommend it to anyone who loves fiction that questions reality, faith, and the limits of human understanding. Reading Darker Than Blood felt to me like stepping into the same haunted, cerebral space as The Secret History by Donna Tartt, but with a far more mystical, electric pulse running through every page.
Pages: 311 | ASIN : B0F79GQWHX
LITERARY TITAN 