Blog Archives
Devotion and Duty
Sick is a haunting psychological horror that follows a marriage unraveling into madness as devotion, illness, and manipulation, and blurs into a claustrophobic battle for control and belonging. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
This story was born from a nightmare. I dreamt I was a woman whose life was decaying around her as she cared for her sickly husband. By the end of the dream, she discovered the man she loved and trusted was far more ill than she could imagine. Her disorientation and fear pulled at me, and I knew I had to write the story.
How did you balance the ambiguity of John’s illness so the reader constantly questions what’s real and what’s manipulation?
I wanted to put people inside Susan’s mind, in the perspective of your typical person who feels the duty to care for their loved ones, no matter what is required. She has let her husband’s illness take over her life, so much so that she no longer has one. Of course, caregivers think, this person is sick, they need me. But what is the cost to yourself? When does devotion and duty become co-dependency? You can only be manipulated if you allow people to do so. How much of it is your own fault?
The book relies heavily on atmosphere and sensory detail rather than overt scares. How do you approach building tension through subtlety rather than shock?
I think the dark, quiet desires, motivations, and needs of our inner selves are more terrifying than your typical monsters, serial killers, or jump scares. It’s the realization that the frame you put around your life story to keep you safe could be a lie, and that you have been preyed upon by those you love and trust. It’s being slowly bled dry and not knowing until it’s too late. Worst of all is realizing you had a hand in your own demise.
What do you hope readers take away about love, neediness, and the moral gray zones that exist inside unhealthy relationships?
I hope readers will think more deeply about what they’re giving and taking in relationships, to be aware when someone is manipulating and using them, and where they themselves might be abusing a person in their life in a mental or emotional way.
Most victims can’t conceive that someone who claims to love them is silently exploiting them for their own gain. Likewise, abusers often don’t know that what they are doing is toxic. These are survival mechanisms they learned as children.
That is why I showed both Susan’s and John’s sides of the story. Neither of them is innocent.
Unfortunately, once confronted, not all abusers will acknowledge to themselves, much less to others, that they were damaging the people around them. It takes a brave person, a genuinely good-hearted and self-aware person, to be willing to admit their flaws and work to change them. Most narcissists and psychopaths do not have any empathy for others, nor true self-awareness that extends beyond their own self-importance.
I hope this story will wake up victims to possible abuse and tip off abusers that maybe they are the villain, and not the hero, of their own story.
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Instagram | Website | Write Catalyst | Amazon
Charming and enigmatic, but very sick.
Born into wealth and prestige, John lost his family’s fortune to the mysterious illness that has now left him bedridden, and Susan’s life revolves around his care.
Years of devotion have left her exhausted and frustrated, yet she’s determined to scrape together whatever resources she can to keep John comfortable and happy—including stealing Demerol from the doctor’s office where she works to feed his growing dependence on painkillers.
As John’s condition continues to baffle doctors, Susan uncovers a secret from his childhood and the chilling cause of his illness.
Now that she knows the truth, can she put an end to the madness?
Christa Wojciechowski delivers a twisted psychological suspense novel for readers who like their fiction sick, sharp, and unforgettable.
Marcus Douglas Presents The Cycle of Completion
The Cycle of Completion by Marcus Douglas introduces readers to New Jerusalem, a haven in a post-apocalyptic landscape plagued by internal discord and looming external dangers. The narrative centers on David Shakir, a young protagonist burdened by prophecy and physical challenges, who is thrust into a leadership role amidst escalating turmoil. This novel intricately weaves themes of faith, resilience, and divine providence, climaxing in a compelling finale that prompts a reevaluation of the concept of salvation.
Douglas adeptly handles these motifs, creating a compelling story that resonates well beyond the book’s conclusion. While the plot occasionally ventures into familiar territory and exhibits some uneven pacing, the detailed character development and rich thematic exploration significantly enrich the narrative. David’s evolution from a hesitant leader to a symbol of hope is particularly engaging, highlighting the transformative impact of faith when confronted with adversity. The author’s examination of human vulnerability and divine intervention invites readers to reflect deeply on their own views of fate and destiny, enhancing the connection with the protagonist. This book delivers a thought-provoking story that encourages introspection. Marcus Douglas’s narrative offers a timely meditation on the critical roles of trust and persistence through life’s challenges. This book comes highly recommended for its insightful portrayal and enduring themes.
The Cycle of Completion not only offers an immersive escape into a meticulously crafted world but also leaves a lasting impression with its profound exploration of spiritual and existential themes. Marcus Douglas’s narrative skillfully encourages the reader to ponder deeper questions of faith and purpose amidst adversity. As such, this novel stands out as a poignant reflection on human strength and the power of belief, making it a notable addition to the genre and a compelling read for those who appreciate stories that challenge and inspire.
Pages: 163 | ASIN : B0CQFZNYXF
Servant
Servant is a supernatural fantasy novel that blends family drama, ancient mystery, and time-crossed storytelling. The book follows two threads that eventually begin to echo one another: Zach, a middle-school kid from the Keane family who vanishes from his house under eerie circumstances, and Akolo, a boy living centuries earlier whose life is marked by war, trauma, and the demands of kings. As Zach’s family searches for him in the present day, he finds himself wandering through stone hallways, oil-lit corridors, and a world that feels pulled straight from his dad’s archaeology stories. Meanwhile, Akolo faces his own captivity in a foreign palace controlled by a ruler who insists he will “need” him. Both boys are caught in places where power, fear, and destiny collide. By the time the book reaches its epilogue, the story has cracked wide open into something larger, hinting at deep magic, interwoven timelines, and a house that is far more alive than anyone wants to admit.
I found myself pulled in by the writing style. It’s simple on the surface but has this steady emotional current running underneath. The authors don’t rush. They let each moment breathe. Even the small scenes, a father making coffee, a daughter complaining about pizza for breakfast, or the house creaking in the early morning, carry a sense of “something is happening here,” even if you can’t name it yet. I liked that. It made me feel like I was sitting inside the Keanes’ home, overhearing bits of life while the bigger mystery brewed just out of sight. And then we cut to Akolo’s story, which feels raw and grounded and ancient. Those chapters landed hardest for me. His fear. His confusion. The way he clutches the jeweled stone in his pocket just to feel connected to something familiar.
I also appreciated the author’s choices around pacing and perspective. Switching between timelines can easily feel gimmicky, but here it feels purposeful. Zach’s modern confusion mirrors Akolo’s ancient disorientation, and that parallel makes the supernatural elements feel earned. I liked how the book doesn’t give its secrets away too quickly. We get hints, symbols carved into doors, fog in places fog shouldn’t be, Marshall knowing more than he says, but the authors trust the reader to sit in the unknown for a while. That kind of patience is rare, and honestly, refreshing. The emotional beats hit hardest because they’re framed by that tension: the Keane parents’ terror when Zach goes missing, Ariel’s mix of resentment and fear, Akolo’s grief for his family, Marshall’s haunted loyalty to forces he doesn’t entirely understand. All of it builds toward that late-book shake of the earth, where the house itself moves as though waking up.
Servant doesn’t wrap everything up, but it feels like a middle chapter that knows exactly what it is. I’d recommend this book to readers who love supernatural fantasy with a human heart, people who enjoy stories about families surviving strange things, or anyone who likes time-slip mysteries tied to ancient cultures. If you want something atmospheric, character-driven, and a little eerie without tipping into horror, this one will hit the spot.
Pages: 262 | ASIN : B0FQ5ZGH1R
The Mourning Locket
The Mourning Locket is a supernatural thriller about an agency called the Inheritance Bureau, a place where heirlooms hold the emotional residue of the dead and where objects literally remember their owners. At the center is Dr. Cassian Vale, an empath whose contact with a Civil War locket sets off a chain reaction of visions, secrets, and dangerous revelations. The book follows him and his team as they uncover the Bureau’s buried experiments, confront its founder, and wrestle with the cost of inheriting pain that isn’t theirs. From the opening scene of Clara Alden’s locket humming at her deathbed to the Bureau’s escalating malfunctions and betrayals, the story blends memory, grief, and identity into a spiraling mystery that ties past and present together.
I was hooked by the atmosphere. The writing carries this heavy, electric hush that makes even quiet moments feel alive. The way the book treats objects as emotional sponges really grabbed me. It’s eerie but tender at the same time, and I kept pausing just to absorb the mood. Scenes like the introduction, where the narrator talks about antiques holding fingerprints and sorrow rather than beauty, hit hard because they feel so human and so haunted at once . I loved that the supernatural elements never felt like gimmicks. They feel like feelings we’ve all avoided or held onto too long. And the characters, especially Cassian and Arden, are written with these little cracks that make them feel both fragile and stubborn. Their connection feels like the kind of closeness born from shared damage rather than romance or convenience.
I also found myself getting swept up in the Bureau’s darker layers. The Blood Ledger, the Silent Lens, the old experiments Callen buried, those ideas are so unsettling because they twist empathy into a tool instead of a virtue. The Apparatus section especially pulled me in. It’s wild and emotional and messy, and it made me feel that buzzing thrill you get when a story finally shows its teeth. Some chapters hit so fast and sharp that I had to slow down to follow every detail. The book lets consequences linger. It lets the characters stay complicated. And honestly, I appreciated the streaks of humor tucked into tense moments. They feel like how real people actually cope, with snark, with tired jokes, with “I stopped for denial” energy.
By the end, I walked away feeling like I’d read something strange and warm and unnerving, all in the best ways. I’d recommend The Mourning Locket to readers who like emotion-driven supernatural stories, to people who enjoy found-family dynamics with rough edges, and to anyone who loves mysteries that grow teeth as they unravel. If you like fiction that feels a little haunted and a little hopeful, and if you enjoy worlds where empathy is both power and liability, this book will be right up your alley.
Pages: 138 | ASIN : B0FW5NDTPV
How Identity Survives
My Twelve-Year-Old Wife follows a desperate man searching for his missing wife, who has a twelve-year-old girl with his wife’s memories show up at his door, claiming to be her. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
The initial spark came from a simple, unsettling question: What if the person you love most disappears… and then returns as a child, still believing they are your wife? That idea gripped me because it collides love, memory, morality, and time in a way that instantly creates emotional and ethical tension. I wasn’t interested in explaining it with heavy science fiction rules. I wanted to explore how far love stretches, where it breaks, and how identity survives when reality bends. The premise let me push a psychological and emotional boundary in a very human way.
Were you able to achieve everything you wanted with the characters in the novel?
For the most part, yes. Dan and Celia evolved as I wrote them. They stopped being just “characters” and started behaving like people with real trauma, confusion, loyalty, and fear. What surprised me most was how much restraint I actually had to show—what they don’t say or do often carries more power than what they do. There are still layers I’m continuing to explore more deeply in Book Two, but I feel I created honest, flawed, believable people in an impossible situation.
When you first sat down to write this story, did you know where you were going, or did the twists come as you were writing?
I had a few major anchor points in mind, but the story very much revealed itself as I wrote it. Certain scenes appeared suddenly in my head, sometimes late at night, and demanded to be written. The twists weren’t plotted on a board — they came from asking myself, “What is the most emotionally honest (and disturbing) thing that could happen next?” In many ways, the story surprised me while I was writing it.
What is the next book that you are working on, and when will it be available?
I’m in the middle of an intense release window and will be launching three books within the next several months. The first is My Twelve-Year-Old Wife 2: Erased Memories, which expands the timeline fracture and deepens the emotional and psychological consequences introduced in the first novel. The second is Memoirs of a Serial Killer: Book Two, continuing the disturbing and introspective descent of the series. The final release is a reimagined and expanded edition of Chloroform Wars, retitled Rhea’s Game — which was a runner-up at the Paris Book Festival — now featuring several additional chapters and a sharper focus on Rhea’s perspective within the dystopian world.
Together, the three books continue to explore identity, power, memory, and moral collapse in different but interconnected ways.
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Website | Amazon
By morning, a twelve-year-old girl stood on his porch — carrying his wife’s memories.
Finalist — 2025 American Writing Awards (Fiction, Psychological)
From Dan Uselton, author of Chloroform War — Runner-Up (Wild Card), Paris Book Festival
Updated Edition – November 2025: Revised timelines, refined pacing, and new author edits for the most immersive reading experience yet.
Dan Fox can’t explain it. The girl knows intimate details from his marriage—things no one else could possibly know. She remembers everything.
As Dan hunts for answers, he’s dragged into a twisting psychological nightmare where memory and identity fracture and:
A masked predator stalks them through shifting realities
Every revelation spirals into deeper deception
One impossible choice could erase the woman he loves forever
My Twelve-Year-Old Wife is a dark psychological thriller about grief, devotion, and the terrifying grip of the past. Fans of The Silent Patient, Verity, Gone Girl, and Behind Her Eyes will be hooked until the final page.
Sick
Sick is a deeply unsettling psychological horror novel that follows the toxic, codependent relationship between Susan and her chronically ill husband, John. What begins as a tale of dutiful care gradually descends into something far more sinister. The book explores themes of love, martyrdom, manipulation, and the blurry line between devotion and delusion. At the center is a marriage teetering on the edge of madness, where illness, real or imagined, becomes both the glue and the weapon that binds them.
It wasn’t just the disturbing imagery or the suffocating atmosphere, it was how intimate it all felt. I was drawn in by the clean, evocative prose and the slow, relentless build-up of dread. Author Christa Wojciechowski doesn’t rely on cheap scares. Instead, she weaponizes empathy, using Susan’s exhaustion and desperation like a knife twisting in your gut. Anyone who’s ever been trapped in a one-sided relationship or felt obligated to care for someone while losing themselves will feel that sting.
John is infuriating. He is charming, pathetic, childlike, and monstrous all at once. I found myself swaying between pity and revulsion. And Susan is no angel either. Her love feels noble one minute and complicit the next. Wojciechowski manages to make the reader complicit, too. I kept asking myself why I felt sorry for someone who was clearly manipulating the woman who loved him. But then I’d see his suffering again, and it would all blur. That’s the genius of this book. It messes with your moral compass.
There’s a smell to this book. Not literally, of course, but in the way Wojciechowski describes bodies, fluids, wounds, and rooms filled with neglect. And beneath it all, I could feel this aching, awful love. The writing doesn’t scream. It whispers. And that’s so much worse. It made me uncomfortable, not with violence or gore, but with how honest it was about how far people will go to feel needed.
There were times when I wanted to yell at Susan to run. Other times, I wanted to wrap her in a blanket and tell her it was okay to stop giving so much of herself. I think that’s why the story is so effective, it holds a mirror up to all the ways we lose ourselves in caring for others. The manipulation in this book is terrifying, not because it’s extreme, but because it’s familiar.
If you want a slow-burn, character-driven descent into psychological horror that feels both intimate and raw, Sick is a must-read. It’s perfect for readers who enjoy books like Gone Girl or The Shining, but crave something smaller in scale and more emotionally claustrophobic. It’s not just horror. It’s heartbreak in disguise. I’d recommend it to anyone interested in the darker sides of love, mental illness, and the twisted things we do in the name of care.
Pages: 282 | ASIN: B0FL5RTYQ9
The Knight at the Top of the Stairs
The Knight at the Top of the Stairs is an unsettling and emotionally resonant piece of psychological horror masquerading as a classic coming-of-age story. Set against the turbulent backdrop of 1968, the novel centers on nine-year-old David, a boy whose world, already fractured by historical tragedy, becomes increasingly governed by mythic struggle. His childhood home in Pine Hill, Massachusetts, becomes a metaphysical battleground, haunted by the rigid, silent vigilance of the ‘Knight at the Top of the Stairs’ and actively threatened by the ‘Buzzing Man,’ a creature of sickening, honey-sweet temptation that seeks to corrupt loyalty and exploit fear, particularly through David’s older brother, Steven. The narrative intricately weaves real-world chaos with deep-rooted occult evil, forcing David to discard the safe, simple rules of childhood for the complex, brutal code of knighthood, compelling him toward a final confrontation where he must determine the price of protecting the helpless.
My strongest emotional response stems from the author’s ability to juxtapose the cosmic horror with such tangible, domestic fear. The novel’s central theme, that historical trauma and moral failure do not fade but become inherited burdens, is articulated through the question, “Will you stand, or will you kneel?” It is a choice that hangs over every character, particularly David, whose journey from naive fear to resolute courage is genuinely moving. The inclusion of real-life upheavals, such as the distant, televised horrors of the Vietnam War and national assassinations, anchors the internal, supernatural dread, suggesting that the true source of evil is not the entity in the cellar, but the willingness of men to be whispered into betrayal. I felt a palpable sense of dread build throughout the middle chapters, not just because of the encroaching monster, but because of the agonizing realization that David’s own family history is intrinsically bound to this ancient conflict, leaving me utterly immersed in the moral weight of his inheritance.
The craftsmanship of the writing itself is exceptional. The prose possesses a rare lyrical intensity that elevates the narrative beyond typical genre fare. Author Brett Bacon employs an effective rhythm, utilizing both sharply concise sentences and sweeping, descriptive passages to maintain an almost unbearable tension. The voices of the children are rendered with startling clarity. David’s attempts to form new “rules” to govern the terrifying unknown, Kevin’s wide-eyed innocence and subsequent psychic sensitivity, and Steven’s rapid, chilling descent into malevolence, all felt tragically real. I found myself sympathetic to David’s father, whose own buried wartime experiences mirror the ancient knight’s legacy, adding layers of sorrow to the final, necessary fight. It is a text that demands, and rewards, careful reading.
The Knight at the Top of the Stairs is a dark and philosophical powerhouse that successfully merges the psychological depth of a domestic drama with the existential threat of epic fantasy. I highly recommend it to readers who appreciate character-driven horror that focuses less on jump scares and more on the slow, corrosive influence of evil, particularly fans of Stephen King’s early, atmospheric works (like It) or those who enjoy stories about inherited guilt and the cost of moral vigilance.
Pages: 225 | ASIN : B0FVP5KP5L
My Twelve-Year-Old Wife
My Twelve-Year Old Wife is a dark, time-bending thriller about love, grief, and the unrelenting pull of fate. It follows Dan Fox, a husband desperate to find his missing wife, Celia, only to have a twelve-year-old girl appear at his door claiming to be her. What begins as a mystery about disappearance spirals into something stranger, a story that slips between timelines and emotions, showing how trauma, memory, and devotion can warp across the years. The book plays with horror and science fiction but stays grounded in its aching humanity. Each chapter peels back another layer of the impossible, until the reader is as disoriented and haunted as Dan himself.
The writing is cinematic and unnerving, full of tight, fast sentences and moments that hit like a punch. I could feel Dan’s confusion and fear, his disbelief when he’s confronted with a version of his wife that shouldn’t exist. The story toys with logic but never loses its emotional truth. The prose has this eerie stillness, a rhythm that feels like breathing in the dark, and the pacing moves between slow dread and heart-hammering tension. I caught myself whispering “what?” out loud more than once, which almost never happens when I read. The author’s control over mood and momentum is impressive. Even when scenes leaned into the surreal, the characters kept me anchored.
But what hit me hardest wasn’t the time travel or the mystery, it was the loneliness. Beneath the weirdness, this is a love story about guilt and obsession. Dan’s desperation feels raw and a little ugly, and Celia’s time-fractured existence is both tragic and strange. Their connection stretches and twists, but it never breaks. I could sense how much the author wanted to explore what happens when love is stronger than reality itself. At times, the dialogue can feel blunt, but it works here, it fits people who are terrified and grasping for sense in the middle of madness.
My Twelve-Year Old Wife is for readers who like their stories unsettling, who don’t mind questioning what’s real and what’s imagined. If you liked Dark, Arrival, or The Time Traveler’s Wife but wished they were more psychological and eerie, this book is for you. It’s weird, bold, and relatable.
Pages: 194 | ASIN : B0FD87Y85R
LITERARY TITAN 