Blog Archives
The Falcon and the Songbird
The Falcon and the Songbird, by Susan Kay Harris, follows April Winford, a perceptive girl coming of age in the Texas Hill Country during the early 1960s, as her private world of horses, family tensions, first love, and friendship is overtaken by the public tremors of Kennedy’s presidency, his assassination, racial injustice, land greed, and the fight to protect a fragile natural habitat. What begins as a young girl’s intimate remembrance widens into a story about conscience, how it wakes, how it wounds, and how it asks ordinary people to become braver than they planned.
I was drawn first to the novel’s strong sense of place. The Hill Country is not merely scenery here; it breathes, with its rain-starved grass, limestone ridges, ranch roads, birdsong, and the half-wild freedom of Moona, April’s horse. Harris writes April’s girlhood with a vivid inwardness, catching the awkwardness of adolescence without making it small. April is romantic, stubborn, naïve, observant, and sometimes painfully wrong, which makes her feel alive. The book is at its best when it lets innocence brush against danger before April fully understands what she has encountered.
I loved the way the novel braids personal awakening with historical disillusionment. Kennedy’s assassination does not sit in the background as decoration; it alters the moral weather of the book. The story can be sprawling, and at times its political conversations become more explicit than subtle, but I appreciated its ambition. It wants to connect a girl’s first difficult loyalties, to her mother, to Clay, to Ronnie, to the land itself, with the larger betrayals of a country entering a darker age. That gives the novel a raw, earnest charge, a kind of flint-struck sincerity.
I think this book is best suited for readers who enjoy reflective historical fiction, coming-of-age novels, Southern fiction, and stories about moral courage. Readers who admire the ethical awakening and regional atmosphere of To Kill a Mockingbird may find a familiar gravity here, though Harris’s novel is more openly political and more meditative in its treatment of land, memory, and loss. The Falcon and the Songbird is a heartfelt and searching novel about the hour when childhood ends, and conscience begins to sing.
Pages: 320 | ISBN : 978-2839949330
The Good Death: A Guide for Supporting Your Loved One Through the End of Life
Suzanne B. O’Brien’s The Good Death is a compassionate and practical guide to accompanying a loved one through the end of life with less fear and more intention. Drawing on her years as a hospice and oncology nurse, O’Brien argues that death is not merely a medical event, but a deeply human, physical, emotional, spiritual, and familial passage. The book moves from stories of hospital deaths shaped by panic or denial, such as Vivian’s futile surgery and Alice’s spared CPR, into concrete guidance on advance directives, caregiving phases, pain management, family burnout, funeral choices, green burial, and the Peace of Mind Planner. Its central conviction is simple but unsettling: most of us are unprepared for dying, yet preparation can transform terror into tenderness.
What stayed with me most was the book’s insistence that knowledge can be a form of mercy. O’Brien writes with the authority of someone who has stood in the room at the final breath, and her best passages have the quiet gravity of witness. The story of little Tammy, marked with her grandmother’s lipstick kisses and repeating that death was “beautiful,” could easily have become sentimental, but it lands because O’Brien has already shown us the harsher alternatives: sterile rooms, frightened families, bodies kept alive past dignity. I found the writing most powerful when it braided instruction with reverence, when a comfort kit, a pain scale, or a bedside commode became part of a larger language of love.
I also appreciated the ambition of the book’s ideas, even when I felt their certainty pressing hard against mystery. O’Brien’s belief in the sacredness of death gives the book its warmth and courage. Her practical wisdom is hard to dismiss. The three phases of end of life, the Support System Scheduler, the questions about bathing, music, visitors, and disposition of the body, all feel humane because they honor the tiny details where love either falters or becomes incarnate. Her discussion of home funerals, living wakes, and green burial also widens the reader’s sense of what’s possible after death in a way that restores agency to families.
By the end, I felt both sobered and strangely steadied. The Good Death doesn’t make dying easy, and it shouldn’t, but it makes the terrain less lonely by naming what so many people are afraid to name. Its greatest gift is not that it removes grief, but that it teaches the reader how to remain present inside it, with clean hands, clear wishes, and an open heart. I’d recommend this book especially to family caregivers, hospice volunteers, adult children of aging parents, and anyone who knows that avoiding death has never protected us from it.
Pages: 272 | ISBN : 978-0316574860
Journey Into Romance
A Is for Amy follows a widowed mother of three who stumbles back into romance, desire, and selfhood through a chaotic alphabet of flirtation, exhaustion, and second chances, discovering that opening your heart again is both ridiculous and necessary. What was the inspiration for your story?
I wrote this novella when my two youngest children were under 3. Though I loved being a parent, I felt my prior self was completely submerged in the care of my kids. So, I decided to write something quick with a big heart, something for grown-ups to explore. A journey into romance grounded in the real-world of parenting young kids. I wanted to capture the economy and directness of short fiction with the ability to follow the significant development of a main character that comes with the novel.
The novella never treats motherhood as separate from desire. Why was it important to keep those parts of Amy’s identity intertwined?
She is a whole person. Her sexuality is a part of this wholeness. Her loss and suffering have affected how she perceives herself and her life. Her negativity at the beginning can be reductive and limiting. Sexuality is one way we can awaken to our true spirit. Amy is awakening in this novella.
The idea of Amy naming her life one piece at a time: Attraction, Baby Bartlette, Freedom, and Nutella, gives the structure emotional meaning. Did those specific entries arrive early, or did they accumulate through drafting?
Those are names that I choose, not Amy. Amy would see them as part of the ebb and flow of her life. They are details, not necessarily stages. They are on the cover to engage the reader. I see the cover as the beginning of the book, the beginning of the adventure for the reader. These words are welcome, mystery, and invitation. A tease if you like.
The alphabet format also makes the book look like a children’s picture book from the outside. Was that visual misdirection intentional — and what do you want a reader to feel when they open it and discover what’s actually inside?
Yes, the cover is deliberately deceptive. So parents, grandparents, and any caregivers can read the book incognito as they care for the children. The deception is clearly stated on the back cover. The inside design is quite different, too. It is for grownups. Like the story. I wanted the reading experience to be a refuge for the reader. A world grounded in the reality of parenting, but free from it at the same time. This is a book for the person every parent was before they were a parent. A place to laugh and cry and engage with a compelling character – to celebrate and suffer with her. To read not for a child, but for themselves. I hope the readers feel at their ease as they journey. My goal is to delight them.
Author Links: GoodReads | Instagram | Website | Amazon
Amy Dellaconta Franklin is an independent mother of 3 kids under 5. Her life is often exhausting and isolating. Then, one day, love comes knocking at her front door.
Amy is a sassy, charming, yet lonely young widow who unexpectedly finds herself on the path of finding love again. Surprises overturn expectations at nearly every turn in this novella, which tells the story of how a life that seemed trapped in the too-hard basket became a voyage of romantic discovery.
A is for Amy tells it fast, straight and funny. From negativity to bliss. With no fluff and no wasted words.
Do you like reading but never seem to have enough space to start (or finish) a book? Each chapter in this romancecan be enjoyed in the time it takes to drink a good cup of coffee.
This is a great gift for parents or parents-to-be. It looks like an alphabet book for children. But inside, it’s a romantic adventure for grown-ups with a surprise ending that will touch your heart.
Scars and All
Scars and All is a hybrid of memoir, self-help, and conversational reflection, built around one deceptively simple idea: the wounds we carry can either keep us trapped in old pain or become a way of recognizing and easing pain in others. Lara Portelli opens with a stranger dropping milk in a Sydney supermarket, then follows that moment into a chain of encounters, most memorably with Helen at the Hydro Majestic, where a spilled carton becomes the trigger for a buried schoolyard humiliation, and later with Mia, whose mirror-bound self-loathing exposes how easily beauty standards colonize a woman’s inner life. From there, the book widens into chapters on self-harm, invisibility, dress size, cutting remarks, and visible scarring, always circling back to the same invitation: look at your scars honestly, then decide whether they’ll remain reminders or become a map forward.
Portelli writes like someone leaning across the table, saying, listen, this matters. At its best, that makes the book feel intimate in a way many books in this lane never do. Helen’s story, especially the awful convergence of guilt, self-harm, and the old humiliation of chocolate milk in her hair, has genuine force. So does the quieter ache of Mia asking whether she can “compete” with the women she sees in magazines, only to be told, beautifully and bluntly, “You don’t.” I also found the chapter on clothing size unexpectedly effective. The changing-room scene with the ruby-red dress is funny, a little chaotic, and painfully recognizable, which is exactly why it lands. The book is strongest when Portelli lets scenes breathe like that, when the ideas rise out of lived moments instead of arriving as instruction.
The writing has warmth, rhythm, and an unguarded sincerity I appreciated, even when it wanders into reflective detours. There are moments when the narrative shifts from personal storytelling into broader reflections, motivational language, and ideas around NLP, past life regression, and inherited trauma. Those sections didn’t resonate with me quite as strongly as the more intimate, lived scenes, though they still felt consistent with the book’s searching and deeply personal spirit. I trusted Portelli most when she was describing a room, a look, a humiliation, a sudden kindness, the soft light of Holly Difford’s photo shoot, or the raw fact of Turia Pitt refusing to let “5 seconds of pain and agony” define the rest of her life. I never doubted the sincerity underneath everything. The book’s moral imagination is generous. It wants people to be gentler with themselves and more alert to the hurt in others, and that conviction gives it a pulse.
Scars and All is heartfelt and genuinely affecting. I think it succeeds because Portelli is willing to be raw, personal, and earnest in service of a deeply human belief: that pain can enlarge us instead of reducing us. By the time she returns to the image of walking someone “to the safety of that dry space,” the book had earned its tenderness. I’d recommend it most to readers who like personal-development books with memoir blood in them, especially women navigating reinvention, self-worth, body image, or the long afterlife of emotional injury.
Pages: 96 | ASIN : B0FYNQG85V
Daddy, Can I Be A Marine?
Daddy, Can I Be a Marine?, by Ben Olbon, offers a reflective and heartfelt look at a father’s time in the United States Marine Corps through the eyes of his children. The story follows a brother and sister as they learn about their father’s service, discovering who he was before parenthood and how those experiences shaped the man they know today. The narrative highlights how military service can remain a lasting and defining part of personal identity long after active duty ends.
The book’s greatest strength lies in its presentation of core values such as leadership, commitment, and responsibility. These themes feel authentic rather than instructional, making them accessible for young readers. Olbon’s personal connection to the story brings sincerity and quiet pride to the narrative. The children’s growing fascination with the Marines begins with simple curiosity about their father, which makes his service feel personal and inspiring rather than distant or abstract. This approach naturally invites meaningful conversations between parents and children about service, sacrifice, and family history.
The illustrations by Alana McCarthy enhance the story with warmth and emotional depth. Details like the Marine Corps uniform and earned medals visually reinforce the importance of the father’s service. Expressive characters and carefully composed scenes help children engage with both the emotions and the message of the book. The inclusion of Marine Corps facts at the end adds another layer of value, offering informative content for readers who may be curious about military life or future service.
Daddy, Can I Be a Marine? is a thoughtful and engaging book well suited for family collections and classroom use. It is especially meaningful for military families and career exploration lessons, providing a respectful and accessible way to honor service while strengthening intergenerational understanding.
Pages: 32 | ASIN : B0FN9QPDGV
Hidden Emotions
Oceans of Thoughts: An Inspirational Walk through the Inner Self, Life and History is a soul-stirring collection of poems and reflections that journey through loss, memory, identity, and spiritual awakening. What inspired you to write this particular collection of poems?
My work in poetry is written to resonate with those who read and those who hear about Oceans of Thoughts. My writing style in poetry is thought-provoking and is focused on my life experiences, to influence you to look within your inner self and experience some self-healing and inner peace.
In Oceans of Thoughts Book One, I wrote a beautiful poetry series about my experiences with the loss of my sister Yvonne and the emotions that loss had on my life. I dedicated Book One to Yvonne.
I also wrote in another section, about the dysfunctional effects of other family relationships and family discord. There are many differences and prejudices hanging over families. Oceans of Thoughts is written to touch lives, speak about social issues and current affairs, and to draw you to the effects those psychological trends have on mankind. Also, I expressed the grace of the selfless service in everyone to be able to give in unexpected circumstances. The desirable respect for seniors in ‘I AM SENIOR’ is another very impactful piece in Book One. There are also the lighthearted joys in poetry and Caribbean History that I share and are certain to enlighten the experience with Oceans of Thoughts.
I am inspired and guided by the limitless inspiration that directs my work in poetry. Oceans of Thoughts is inspired wholesomely by my life experiences and is directed to change lives and to touch the hidden emotions of its readers.
How did you decide on the themes that run throughout your poetry book?
Oceans of Thoughts is an inspirational poetry book series. I believe that the effects and emotions of the passing of my sister Yvonne propelled the direction and selection of the poems for Book One.
Did you write these poems with a specific audience in mind, or was it a more personal endeavor?
Oceans of Thoughts is written to influence a target audience in the age range of teens, young adults, adults, and seniors. The targeted audience can most certainly benefit from my work in this book series.
How has this poetry book changed you as a writer, or what did you learn about yourself through writing it?
Oceans of Thoughts Book One is the beginning of my published inspirational poetry book series and my life as a published author. Book One embarked on a journey of self-healing and motivation that influences people to look within the self. It is the beginning of many accomplishments achieved as an author globally.
One of the most important things that I learned about myself as the author of Oceans of Thoughts is that I must stay focused on the limitless inspirational gifts and talents to direct my path in poetry.
Author Links: GoodReads | Barnes & Noble | X (Twitter) | Facebook | Website | LinkedIn | YouTube | Spotify | Amazon
Anger Management Solutions for Parents
Agnes Blake’s Anger Management Solutions for Parents is a hands-on, compassionate guide aimed at helping parents understand and manage their emotional responses—especially anger—in the context of parenting. The book is structured around clear, practical strategies like mindfulness, emotional reflection, communication techniques, and stress-reducing exercises. It’s broken into chapters that walk the reader through identifying emotional triggers, setting up routines, and using real-life tools like the S.T.O.P. method or calm-down corners to de-escalate conflict and foster deeper family connection. Each section is packed with actionable tips, relatable examples, and interactive exercises that make it feel more like a parenting workshop than a textbook.
What stood out to me most was Blake’s tone. It’s gentle, relatable, and refreshingly nonjudgmental. She doesn’t talk down to the reader, and she doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. Instead, she writes as someone who’s been there, someone who has snapped at her kids and felt that crushing wave of guilt after. That honesty gave the book a level of emotional authenticity I wasn’t expecting. The writing itself is clean and straightforward, which makes even the more science-based parts (like the brain’s role in anger) feel digestible. Blake skillfully balances empathy with practicality, and the book never strays too far into theory or becomes too clinical.
I found that while many of the strategies were helpful, they were mostly designed for younger children and traditional family structures. That said, the core ideas—slowing down, naming your feelings, being kind to yourself—are universally valuable. I found myself using the breathing techniques in my own life, not just with kids, but in work stress, too.
I’d wholeheartedly recommend Anger Management Solutions for Parents to anyone feeling overwhelmed by the emotional rollercoaster of raising kids. New parents, especially those with toddlers or school-aged children, would get the most out of it. It’s also a solid read for co-parents looking to align their communication styles or build emotional awareness as a team. The tone is warm, the tools are realistic, and the overall message is reassuring.
Pages: 84 | ASIN : B0DMGQGS8K
Kundu: Prince of Riverton City
Kundu: The Prince of Riverton City is a powerful coming-of-age story set against the brutal, lively backdrop of Riverton City, Jamaica. Courtney Ffrench paints a vivid world where survival is a daily fight and childhood innocence is a fragile, flickering thing. We follow young Kundu, a pale-skinned, purple-eyed boy navigating a garbage-laden, violence-soaked community, all while trying to find his place, his people, and maybe a little hope. From the first scene at Shotta’s Ball, where gunshots and ghost stories blur together to desperate kite-flying sessions by the dump, the story pulls you into the grime, the beauty, and the heartache of a forgotten place.
Ffrench doesn’t sugarcoat a single thing. The author’s writing style is raw, sentences clipped, observations sharp. When Kundu, Lorraine, and Leon sneak past men firing AK-47s into the air, I could feel the gravel digging into my knees. It wasn’t just described; it grabbed me by the collar and shoved me down in the mud with them. That rough, close-to-the-ground style made the world feel dangerous, loud, and alive. The scene where they run from the ghost-like woman in white gave me goosebumps, not because it was supernatural, but because it was too real.
Then there’s Kundu himself. I loved him, and my heart broke for him. His albinism isolates him in a brutal society where being different is dangerous. The way kids casually call him “Ghost” and how even grown-ups view him with suspicion is gutting. There’s a scene later, when Lorraine sings “Hill and Gully Rider” while they search the Sandy Gully for their missing friend, and Kundu just trails behind, silent, it crushed me. Ffrench nails the quiet loneliness of being an outsider without ever turning Kundu into a sob story. He’s stubborn, he’s brave, he’s a kid trying to build a kite out of trash in a world falling apart.
Ffrench weaves in these small, bright stitches of humanity: the fierce loyalty between Kundu, Lorraine, and Leon; Madda Tee’s patient, practical love (especially when she stirs that cornmeal porridge while talking about missing kids like it’s just another part of the day); the slapstick panic of dodging Jomo the mad dog. There’s something magical in how people in Riverton City find ways to laugh, to dance, to live, even with death sitting next door. When Kundu and Lorraine find a dead baby hidden in a freezer, it’s brutal, but the fact that they care says so much about the scraps of decency they’re fighting to keep.
I loved this book. It’s rough and sometimes painful, but it’s also full of fight and beauty. Courtney Ffrench doesn’t waste words or pretend things are prettier than they are. Kundu: Prince of Riverton City would be a great read for anyone who loves coming-of-age stories that don’t flinch, or readers who want to see life through a lens they might never have dared to look through before. It’s perfect for people who aren’t afraid to get a little mud on their shoes and maybe a little blood on their hearts.
Pages: 243 | ASIN : B0DJHGWM6H
