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The Nalanda Manuscript
The Nalanda Manuscript is a globe-trotting thriller that opens with fire, ash, and heartbreak in ancient Nalanda before dropping readers straight into modern-day mountain roads, secret missions, and a hunt for a manuscript that shouldn’t exist. In simple terms, the story follows Izak Kaurben, a former special forces officer who gets pulled into a high-stakes quest to recover a long-lost Nalanda manuscript that mysteriously surfaced in Mali. What starts as a historical curiosity becomes a dangerous cross-continental chase, blending real history with tense action and emotional undercurrents. It’s fast, cinematic, and surprisingly reflective underneath all the movement.
The writing moves with a restless energy. Chapters slide quickly from quiet conversations over tea to gunfire in the desert. I liked how grounded some moments felt, especially the scenes in Himachal Pradesh where Izak reconnects with people who know him beyond the soldier he used to be. The book makes space for these pauses, and they kept me invested because they showed why Izak says yes to things he could easily walk away from. Not every choice the author makes is subtle, but that’s part of the charm. The story wants to entertain first, teach you something second, and only then make you sit with the weight of its ideas.
I also found myself thinking about how much the book respects history while still letting itself play. The sections about Nalanda’s library and Timbuktu’s manuscripts felt lovingly researched, and they made me care about the artifact at the center of all this. There’s a clear admiration for the people who protect cultural heritage, the kind of admiration that gives the plot extra heat. The explanations sometimes leaned toward compact info-bursts, but they were interesting enough that I didn’t mind. The mix of action and scholarship shouldn’t work as well as it does, yet somehow it clicks.
I’d say this book is perfect for readers who love adventure thrillers with a historical core, the kind who appreciate both chase scenes and quiet human moments. If you enjoy stories that move quickly but still want to feel something real beneath the momentum, this one will land well. And if you’ve got a soft spot for lost knowledge, ancient libraries, or the idea that one manuscript can hold a world together, you’ll enjoy it even more.
Pages: 309 | ASIN : B0G3C2BK79
Asterios and the Labyrinth
Asterios and the Labyrinth follows Prince Asterios of Knossos as his father dies, political rivals rise against him, foreign powers threaten the island, and love pulls him in directions that the laws of his world barely allow. The story blends palace intrigue, war, prophecy, and a passionate bond between Asterios and the warrior Phaistos. The book moves from grief to revolt to full-scale devastation as Asterios tries to hold his kingdom together while fighting for the man he loves and the legacy he is sworn to protect.
The writing is lush and almost feverish in places, and that style suits the mythic setting. I liked how author Edmond Thornfield lets emotions lead the scenes instead of rushing through them. Asterios’s grief for his father, his fear of losing Phaistos, and the heavy burden of the crown get real space to breathe. I felt the weight he carries and the fire that keeps pushing him forward. The political maneuvering is sharp, too. You can almost feel the treachery when figures like Koronos appear, and those moments gave the story a dangerous edge that kept me hooked.
Thornfield uses myth as a stage to talk about loyalty, love, and identity in a way that feels timeless. The romance between Asterios and Phaistos is tender and fiery and written with such sincerity that I kept rooting for them even when the world around them fell apart. I also liked that the story never hides the cruelty of power. Rulers here bleed, mourn, and make choices that hurt. The rituals, the prophecies, and the glimpses of divine influence gave the book a strange beauty, and I often found myself pausing just to picture a scene more clearly. The battles feel brutal. The magic feels ancient. The love feels stubborn in the best way.
I walked away thinking this book is for readers who enjoy myth retellings that lean into emotion and drama. It is for anyone who wants an epic that is not afraid of intimacy, or a romance that stands tall inside a world full of knives. Asterios and the Labyrinth feels to me like The Song of Achilles collided with a palace-politics thriller, blending tender queer love with sweeping mythic stakes in a way that scratches the same emotional itch while carving out its own bold identity. If you like political intrigue, queer love stories woven into legendary pasts, or richly detailed worlds that feel almost operatic, this book will hit the spot.
Pages: 366 | ISBN: 6501697425
Morning of a Crescent Moon
Morning of a Crescent Moon is a work of historical fiction set in 1898 Virden, Illinois, during the turbulent months leading up to the real Battle of Virden. The story follows Cate Merry, a young nurse-turned-teacher, arriving in a town already buzzing with tension as miners face a long lockout and the threat of imported strikebreakers. Through Cate’s eyes, we meet families scraping by on gardens and barter, miners determined to preserve their dignity, and townspeople caught between fear, pride, and hope. It’s a gentle, character-driven narrative set against a very real and violent historical backdrop, and the book makes its genre clear from the opening pages: this is grounded, people-centered historical fiction.
What I enjoyed most was how the author invites you into the quiet details of Cate’s new life. Small moments feel important. Her first steps off the train into a line of grim men. The shy McCall children selling tomatoes and corn. The drugstore with its lazy ceiling fans and Brad’s Drink. These scenes do a lot of the heavy lifting, easing you into the world before the bigger conflict tightens around everyone. The writing favors clear, steady storytelling over flourishes, which actually works well here. It gives the book a lived-in feeling. I especially liked how Cate’s inner life is handled. She’s anxious, hopeful, sometimes overwhelmed, but always trying to find her footing. Her memories of nursing wounded soldiers linger just under the surface, shaping her choices without becoming melodramatic. It’s subtle and believable.
I also found myself drawn to the author’s choice to tell the story through relationships rather than events. The miners’ struggle isn’t explained in an abstract way. It’s revealed through conversations on porches, worried glances in general stores, and the quiet determination of people trying to feed their families any way they can. Even the moments of local gossip help build a sense of community under strain. And then there’s Noah McCall, who becomes a steady emotional counterweight to Cate. His warmth and responsibility toward his siblings give the book a kind of heartbeat. Whenever the bigger historical tensions rise, the domestic scenes with the McCalls bring everything back to the human scale. It’s not a flashy narrative structure, but it gives the story weight.
By the final chapters, the tone shifts. The danger everyone has sensed surfaces finally, and the emotional stakes land because the quieter chapters have done their job. I won’t spoil specifics, but the aftermath sections are some of the strongest in the book. They carry a sense of exhaustion and tenderness that felt honest to both the characters and the history. The author includes real context about the labor movement, but the storytelling never turns into a lecture. You feel the history rather than being told about it.
I’d recommend Morning of a Crescent Moon to readers who like historical fiction that moves at a steady pace. If you enjoy stories centered on community, steady character arcs, and the everyday courage of ordinary people, this one will speak to you. It’s for someone who wants to sit with characters long enough to care about what happens to them.
Pages: 384 | ASIN: 1969935030
The Return
The Return drops the reader straight into South Park, Colorado, where Ike McAlister and his family wrestle with a brutal winter, old wounds, and the steady creep of danger from men tied to the coming railroad. The story follows Ike’s fight to protect his land, his people, and the fragile peace he has managed to build. The novel blends frontier grit with family devotion and a sense of unfinished business that never quite loosens its grip. I felt the stakes rise page by page as storms, enemies, and secrets closed in around Ike and those he loves.
I found myself pulled in by the writing right away. Torreano paints the land with steady hands, and the cold feels like it bites through the page. The early scenes in the blizzard hit me hard. The tension builds quietly, then all at once, and I caught myself almost holding my breath. The dialogue has a simple rhythm that feels true to the setting. I liked that it never tries too hard. Some passages felt a little drawn out, yet the heart of the story beats strong enough that I didn’t mind lingering. I cared about Ike more than I expected. He is stubborn, loyal, and rough around the edges, and I felt that mix settle in me as something real.
What surprised me most was how emotional the book became as it unfolded. I kept feeling this tug in my chest when the family struggled through the small, private moments that hit harder than the gunfire. Lorraine’s strength stayed with me and made me think about the cost of keeping a home running when the world feels cold and hungry. I got frustrated with Ike at times because he pushes himself past reason, but that is also why he stays on my mind. The themes of honor and self-responsibility land with a quiet weight, and I found myself nodding more than once, thinking about how little those values change across time. There were moments that felt gentle, then sharp, then gentle again, and I liked that uneven beat.
The book mixes history, hardship, and hope in a way that should sit well with readers who like westerns with real heart. I would recommend The Return to anyone who enjoys frontier stories with strong family bonds, vivid landscapes, and characters who feel lived in. It would also suit readers who want action tempered with emotion and a sense of place that settles around you like campfire smoke.
Pages: 327 | ASIN: B0FR1XC4QT
“even gods have flaws”
The Shape of Angels follows an immortal man haunted by a curse who must travel back in time and across dimensions to confront his former self to prevent the universe’s destruction. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
My inspiration came from the desire to create something that did not exist. Imagination was strongly encouraged in my household while growing up, as both my mother and my father were very creative. Mom once worked for Sysco Foods as a graphic designer and designed their penguin mascot, Sysco Sydney. Dad was a storyteller, a so-called professional liar. He ‘made up things’ for a living, which is what we do as writers. Imagination came easily to me, and I aimed to create a series that did not resemble others. There are many time-travel books out there, but not many, if any, that feature multidimensional time travel. As per my theory of ‘Dimensional Distinction’, the past, present, and future co-exist at the same time. This allows me to shift readers between timelines by using dimensions to explain a Napoleonic Europe with advanced technology—an entirely new concept and theory with much to explore.
I find the world you created in this novel brimming with possibilities. Where did the inspiration for the setting and the supernatural elements come from, and how did it change as you were writing?
The supernatural elements of my story were inspired by real mythology, and I had always admired Napoleon Bonaparte, who was superstitious himself. To reference mythology, we can examine Napoleon’s imperial eagle, which closely resembles Caesar’s Aquila, including the lightning bolts in its talons—the sacred emblem of Jupiter (and Zeus). I conducted extensive research the six inventors, incorporating the elements and cultures of the real people they represent. Throughout my trilogy, I will introduce and delve into the roles of each inventor, as all six dimensions matter.
What were some themes that were important for you to explore in this book?
The Shape of Angels explores a primary theme of “even gods have flaws”, and those flaws can either destroy or empower, depending on the individual. It is a story that examines limits, but also shows how life can be molded beyond what is possible. Identity is another theme TSOA explores, including what it may look like in the eyes of others.
What will your next novel be about and what will the whole series encompass?
The next novel in my series will be titled The Probability Machine. In TPM, we will learn more about Adreian’s past and how he came to bear Sil’nei’s heart. TPM will lean more on hard science fiction and the coalition wars. Let’s say there might be a shift in protagonists…
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook
The universe is crumbling. Its fate depends on a child (Adreian Bayne) with a magical heart and a broken body—whose very existence threatens the balance of its six dimensions, time and space.
As the organ propelling Adreian’s blood bears a terrible hex—devised by its original host—and, mighty demigod, Sil’nei.
Tasked with preventing the universe’s destruction, Sil’nei must shed his guise as Physics Professor Giovanni Romano—and confront Adreian in the past (1804) to silence his (own) beating heart. Thus, destroying himself.
Giovanni realizes the complexity of his assignment after undergoing inter-dimensional time-travel. Upon arriving in the third dimension, he meets a grand opportunity—tempting Giovanni to cement his former empire—and mentor his former incarnation, Napoleon Bonaparte, while exploiting Adreian.
As expected, Giovanni receives opposition from his fellow ‘Inventors’, who seek to arrest his conquests—waging a war between gods and mortal men, with Adreian at the epicenter.
Song of Hummingbird Highway
Song of Hummingbird Highway traces the tangled journey of Terri, a tender but wounded woman from Michigan who longs for love that actually sees her. Her world collides with Reynold, a Belizean musician with burning dreams and a storm inside him, and she follows him into unfamiliar cultures, humming forests, spiritual traditions, and painful truths. The story carries her from Laurel Canyon to Belize, through heartbreak, danger, betrayal, and a final push toward her own inner strength. By the end, Terri’s path is shaped as much by ancestors and myth as by the man who once dazzled her. The book blends romance, trauma, folklore, and self-rescue into something that feels bold and deeply human.
The writing has this emotional pulse that surprised me. It swings from soft moments to sharp ones that made me squirm. I could feel Terri’s insecurity, her hunger to be loved, her fear of being forgotten. Some scenes lit up with color and rhythm, especially the early moments between her and Reynold, which felt intoxicating in the best and worst ways. Other scenes hurt to witness. They exposed the cracks in Terri’s self-worth with such blunt truth that I found myself pausing. The story wanders and circles at times, yet the heart of it stays steady. It is a story about the lies we believe about ourselves, and the long walk it takes to unlearn them.
What I liked most was the book’s mix of spiritual energy and raw interpersonal mess. I loved the mythic threads, the Mayan echoes, the ancestors whispering at the edges. I also loved how the Belizean setting opened up like a living thing. Still, I kept wishing Terri would trust herself sooner. Watching her cling to Reynold, even when he faltered and shattered, made me ache. The writing captures that pattern well, because it reminded me of people I have known who could not break free of a charm tied to harm. The scenes near the end felt surreal and heavy with symbolism, yet they worked. They gave Terri a moment of power that felt earned.
When I closed the book, I sat with a strange mix of sadness and relief. I admired Terri for surviving herself as much as she survived Reynold. I admired the author for weaving love, history, culture, music, and pain into a story that refuses to sit quietly. I would recommend this book to readers who enjoy emotional journeys, spiritual themes, and strong cultural settings. It suits people who like romance, who like characters who stumble hard before they find the ground, and who crave stories that hum long after the last page is done.
Pages: 532 | ASIN : B0FZF1TN24
CLEOPATRA: Secrets from the Tomb
From the first pages, Cleopatra: Secrets from the Tomb sets itself up as a sweeping historical fiction retelling of Cleopatra VII’s life. The opening chapters follow her from childhood in the royal palace gardens to the brutal politics of the Ptolemaic dynasty, where executions, betrayals, and uneasy alliances shape her world. We watch her lose a sister, fend off assassins, endure exile, and stage her dramatic return to Alexandria, ultimately stepping onto the stage with Julius Caesar in a way that blends political calculation with personal ambition. It reads like a behind-the-scenes chronicle of a woman forced to sharpen her instincts in a nest of vipers, and it moves steadily from innocence to strategy to survival.
As I moved through the story, I found myself reacting not just to the events, but to the way Blundell chose to show them. The writing is direct, almost cinematic at times, with scenes that place you right in the heat of Alexandria or the hush of a temple at night. Some moments are vivid enough to feel like you’re standing beside Cleopatra herself, like the early image of her playing among flowers before freezing at the sight of a viper, a simple childhood moment that quietly foreshadows the dangers ahead. Other scenes, like Berenice’s execution or Cleopatra’s exile, come at you quickly and without sentiment, which fits the harsh world the book wants you to feel. I appreciated how the author frames Cleopatra as intelligent and capable without softening the darker edges of her ambition.
What surprised me most was how personal the story sometimes feels, even while staying grounded in historical detail. Cleopatra’s voice comes through in her shifting confidence, her anger, and her sharp awareness of how others perceive her. The book doesn’t try to turn her into a flawless heroine. Instead, it lets her be ambitious, manipulative, wounded, and occasionally tender. Those choices made the familiar historical moments feel fresher. And while the writing is straightforward, moments of sensory detail land well when they appear.
By the time I closed the book, I felt that anyone who enjoys historical fiction centered on political intrigue, complicated women, and ancient worlds brought to life would get a lot from this story. Readers who want a richly detailed, almost immersive retelling of Cleopatra’s rise will appreciate the blend of fact and interpretation. If you’re looking for a reflective character study wrapped in the drama of palace life, war, and shifting loyalties, this book is an engaging pick.
Pages: 323 | ISBN : 979-8-8230-9526-6
SHAMANESS – The Silent Seer
Shamaness: The Silent Seer is a spiritual coming-of-age fantasy that follows Kreya, a gifted but marginalized girl who grows into a powerful shamaness. The story moves between her sixtieth summer, when she is grieving her husband and preparing for a final journey, and her childhood at Sky Lake, where she faces cruelty, discovers her abilities, and learns the foundations of healing and mysticism. It feels part myth, part memoir, part adventure, all held together by a steady emotional core.
I found myself drawn in by Kreya’s honesty. Her voice is reflective and calm, even when she is recounting childhood humiliation or danger, like the moment she can’t warn a boy about the bobcat in clear speech or the time she senses Sholana’s peril before anyone else understands what is happening. Nothing feels rushed. I liked that she didn’t try to make Kreya flawless. Her frustration, her longing to communicate, and her flashes of humor make her feel real. The writing leans into sensory details in ways that feel earned; when Kreya describes Sky Lake or her grandmother’s “rainbow voice,” the images land gently instead of feeling decorative.
The deeper ideas of the book stayed with me. The fantasy elements feel rooted in emotional truth rather than spectacle. The shamanic teachings are presented slowly, almost like the author wants the reader to learn them alongside Kreya. I found myself curious and occasionally moved, especially by the repeated lesson that healing involves choice, not force. The scenes connecting past and present add a wistful tone. Watching Kreya train her great-grandson while carrying the weight of her promise to scatter her husband’s ashes, I kept thinking about how wisdom is passed forward and what it costs the person who carries it.
The tone of the book never turns grandiose; it stays grounded even when touching on visions, spirit companions, or the mysteries between worlds. This blend of accessibility and quiet wonder is what makes the fantasy genre work so well here. If you enjoy character-driven fantasy, spiritual journeys, or stories that move at the pace of memory rather than battle drums, this book will speak to you. Readers who like reflective narratives with a strong emotional core will probably appreciate it most.
Pages: 265 | ASIN : B0FZDB3RM9
LITERARY TITAN 