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Making it Believable
In Daughter of the Void, a young woman must learn to navigate her own magical abilities in a world divided by war and forgotten secrets. Where did the idea for this book come from?
As odd as it might sound, the concept for Daughter of the Void came from science and not fantasy. I have a secret love of astronomy and theoretical physics, and I’ve always been fascinated by the concepts of dark matter and antimatter. I wanted to create a magic system that captured the mystery of our world’s unseen particles in a unique framework. In Daughter of the Void, you get to experience magic as a substance only visible to those with a gift for it, and you get to witness antimagic in the form of Raelyn’s power. While my magic system doesn’t follow the same rules as dark matter and antimatter, those concepts were my inspiration.
Who was the inspiration for Raelyn’s traits and dialogue?
I put a little bit of myself into all my characters, and Raelyn got more of me than I care to admit. Her quiet, contemplative approach to life mirrors my own. Neither of us is going to be the belle of the ball or the social butterfly. I also gave her my love of nature and solitude, and her little bit of sass is mine, too. As for her stubbornness, kindness, and commitment to seeing the best in people—those were traits of my grandmother, to whom the book is dedicated.
How did you balance magic and its use throughout the story to keep it believable?
This was an important sticking point for me. I think it’s easy for magic to become overpowered in any world. When a magic system doesn’t have regulation, it makes readers wonder why the characters aren’t just blasting their way to the end goal. To keep Daughter of the Void’s magic system realistic, I limited who could use it and made it extremely time-consuming and difficult to master. Only the most talented and dedicated mages could become truly powerful, and even then, they could only specialize in one or two types of magic due to its complexity. Of course, the ultimate balancing agents are wardens, such as Raelyn.
Can we get a peek inside the next book in this trilogy? Where will it take readers?
I would love to share a sneak peek! I am so excited for book two; it has been so fun to write. In this next installment, you’re going to spend time on The Grey Isle, where you’ll get to know the Holy Knights, Saints, and another “special” cat named Alphesior. Now that the world knows Raelyn is a warden, her assumed destiny starts to look more and more inescapable, and she accepts an offer of formal training as forces around the world seek to claim her power. In the mix, we’ve got smugglers, traitors, magic battles, a murder mystery, a conspiracy, necromancy, essence magic, and Laris doing his best to protect Raelyn despite some big roadblocks. Be prepared for an unexpected alliance at the end of it all.
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In a world where tendrils of magic envelop all things, Raelyn discovers she’s one of the last of her kind: a warden. As a conduit of the gods capable of creating holes in the fabric of magic, she is a daughter of the void. Forced to flee as her city burns and her best friend is kidnapped, she finds herself in an unexpected partnership with Laris, a mage whose abrasive personality hides a desire to keep her safe. The pair are chased deep into the Vast, a treacherous mountain range filled with hostile feyfolk, where Raelyn grows ever closer to her companion and learns the consequences of being directly connected to the gods.
Guided by the spirit of the last Holy King and unknowingly hunted by Saraht, an enemy warden with a personal vendetta of her own, Raelyn and Laris embark on a journey to seek answers. Along the way they must confront the growing threat of war and the knowledge of Raelyn’s true purpose: a devastating power she will need to embrace to defeat Saraht, but one that will alter her fate forever.
Coven of Andromeda
After reading Coven of Andromeda, I found myself swept into a world where magic, family, and destiny dance together in both surprising and deeply emotional ways. The book follows two main narrative threads. One centered on Sameril, a gifted apprentice drawn into the dark elegance of necromancy, and the other on Bree Tanner, a young woman returning home to uncover her family’s magical legacy. Their stories, though miles apart in tone and setting, intersect in meaningful ways as both characters grapple with the burdens and beauty of inheritance, self-discovery, and the cost of power.
Personally, I was drawn to the writing’s warmth and richness. The prose flows with a quiet confidence, painting vivid images without getting bogged down in heavy description. The emotional beats, especially those between Bree, her sister Molly, and their mother, resonated with me. The magic system felt thoughtful and layered, and the way it tied into character growth was really satisfying. There were times when the pacing felt a bit uneven, particularly in the middle sections where side characters and subplots began to pile up. Still, the heart of the story never got lost, and that kept me engaged.
What really stood out to me were the ideas at play. This isn’t just a fantasy about spells and grimoires. It’s about the strength of matriarchal bonds, the tension between tradition and innovation, and the bravery it takes to choose your own path when expectations press hard against you. The story asks big questions about death, memory, and transformation, and doesn’t pretend to have simple answers. I appreciated that. Some parts made me misty-eyed. Others made me smile, especially the interactions between the coven women, who feel like real, complicated people with equal parts wisdom, mess, and sass.
I’d recommend Coven of Andromeda to anyone who loves generational stories with strong female leads, lush worldbuilding, and a touch of the mystical. It would especially resonate with readers who appreciate fantasy that feels grounded in emotion and family, rather than epic battles or political scheming.
Pages: 518 | ASIN : B0F88X1Z2Z
Daughter of the Void
H.R. Cole’s Daughter of the Void, the first book in the Chains of Fate trilogy, follows Raelyn, a young woman caught between duty and destiny in a divided world haunted by magic, war, and forgotten secrets. The story begins with a forbidden excursion that sets the tone for an epic unraveling of personal identity, looming war, and hidden powers. As political alliances form and dangerous truths bubble to the surface, Raelyn must navigate complex relationships and a growing sense of her own magical abilities, all while being tethered to a prophecy and a mysterious past that could remake the world.
I was completely pulled into this world. The writing is smooth, but not overly polished. H.R. Cole has a talent for atmosphere. You feel the chill of ancient forests, the oppressive silence of stone castles, and the heat of tension between characters who know more than they let on. Raelyn as a protagonist isn’t perfect, and that’s what makes her work. She’s sharp but hesitant, brave but emotionally guarded. The relationships, especially between Raelyn and Ellisand, felt raw and real. And Laris—well, he’s complicated in all the best and worst ways. Their interactions were electric, uncomfortable, and often intense, and I honestly didn’t know how I wanted things to turn out. That kind of uncertainty kept me turning the pages, though.
But it’s not all sunshine and sword fights. A few scenes in the middle of the book lingered longer than needed I think. And while the world-building is strong, there are many moving parts—factions, magical laws, military structures—and some of it felt like it was waiting for the next book to really pay off. That said, there’s no shortage of intrigue. Secrets hang over every chapter like storm clouds. I found myself rereading certain passages just to catch all the foreshadowing. And the way Cole threads emotional stakes through the political drama? Honestly, it got me more than once.
In the end, Daughter of the Void is a slow-burn fantasy adventure with a lot of heart and a sharp edge. It’s for readers who like complex women, moral gray zones, and stories that aren’t afraid to bruise their characters a little. If you enjoy the emotional tension of Kristin Cashore’s Graceling or the slow, layered world-building of The Queen’s Thief, this book will be perfect for you. I’m already hungry for book two.
Pages: 374 | ASIN : B0F8ZZ7JPB
Out of Body: Straight to Hell
Out of Body: Straight to Hell is a wild, genre-defying ride that blends psychological drama, speculative science, supernatural horror, and heartfelt coming-of-age storytelling. The novel follows Harley Baker, a paralyzed young man who, after a childhood trauma tied to a dream-world soulmate and a very real fall from a second-story window, sets off on a determined, mind-bending journey to rediscover the truth of those dreams. Armed with government-declassified astral projection guides, banned hallucinogens, and a stubborn belief in the soul’s reality, Harley risks everything to find Stephanie—a woman who may or may not exist. Along the way, he tangles with literal demons, the CIA, and the biggest enemy of all: his own doubt.
I didn’t expect to get sucker-punched by emotion so often in a story that features Satan as a literal antagonist. But Chater does something special here. His writing has this knack for yanking you through a dozen moods in a single chapter. One minute, I’m laughing at Harley’s razor-sharp sarcasm and tragically millennial monologues, and the next, I’m stunned into silence by the sincerity of a line about loneliness or parental love. Chater’s voice is sharp, raw, never too polished, and it suits Harley’s inner chaos perfectly. Some of the scenes, especially those involving the black-eyed dream demon or Harley’s aching memories of his dog Barney, hit harder than I expected. And while the dialogue flirts with melodrama at times, it never crosses into the unbelievable. Harley’s voice is exactly what it needs to be: brutally honest, emotionally bruised, and relatable.
Now, the ideas in this book? They’re bonkers—in the best way. We’re talking government-funded psychic training, astral projection as espionage, spirit dogs quoting hip-hop, and an actual demon with a libido and a vengeance. And yet… it works. Chater doesn’t dump exposition on your head. He lets you piece together the crazy through Harley’s obsession. There’s a surprising amount of research under the hood—Gateway tapes, Monroe Institute lore, CIA documents—and it’s all used not to impress, but to deepen Harley’s desperate search for truth. The line between madness and metaphysics is always razor thin, and Chater walks it like a tightrope artist. Sure, some plot turns stretch credibility, but so does reality when you’re twenty-two, emotionally shattered, and chasing your dream girl through multiple dimensions. I bought in—and I stayed in.
If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if The OA made out with Stranger Things while reading a Monroe Institute report high on DMT, this book is your answer. It’s heartfelt sci-fi for the spiritual misfit, horror for the sensitive soul, and a love story written in the language of astral projection, regret, and raw hope. I’d recommend this to readers who crave deep weirdness with emotional bite—fans of Chuck Palahniuk, Neil Gaiman, or anyone who’s gone down a rabbit hole at 2 a.m. and come out wondering if any of it was real.
Pages: 216 | ASIN : B0F4ZJ8WVG
Wishes in a Bottle
Wishes in a Bottle, by Allie McCormack, is a romantic fantasy that weaves together ancient magic, eternal longing, and the power of selfless love. Julian DiConti, a mage from plague-ridden Italy, becomes bound to a mystical bottle after a spell goes wrong, cursed to grant wishes until three truly selfless ones are made. In modern-day New York, his fate collides with Alessandra Taylor, a hospice worker with a compassionate soul, offering him the first glimmer of hope he’s had in centuries. Their story unfolds against the backdrop of pain, healing, and a magical bond neither of them expected.
What struck me most about the book was how real Julian felt despite the genie-in-a-bottle premise. He’s six hundred years old, yes, but his pain is fresh, raw even. The opening scene, in which a selfish woman squanders her final wish on a necklace rather than saving a dying child, was deeply unsettling and emotionally jarring. You can feel Julian’s frustration. I loved that the author didn’t sugarcoat his weariness. He endured centuries of witnessing individuals squander extraordinary opportunities, all while being powerless to intervene. The emotional depth of that experience was profoundly affecting.
Then there’s Alessandra. I adored her. She’s fierce in a quiet, grounded way. Her love for her nephew Bobby and her simmering resentment toward her emotionally absent brother-in-law felt so authentic. There’s a scene where she storms into the hospital after hearing about Bobby’s worsening condition, angry, grieving, full of fire, and yet the moment she sees her sister, she softens immediately. That complexity made her so relatable. When Alessandra meets Julian, there is an immediate sense of connection, marked not only by chemistry but also by trust, skepticism, and genuine curiosity. Their relationship develops gradually, avoiding the trope of instant infatuation, which makes the unfolding of their bond all the more compelling and rewarding.
The magic system is subtle but beautifully handled. It’s not flashy spells and fight scenes, it is ancient rules, quiet consequences, and emotional toll. I especially liked how Julian is punished by pain for bending the rules, like when he visits Bobby without a wish being made. That added meaningful weight to the magical framework, grounding it in emotional consequence. While the middle section leans heavily on dialogue and introspection, it enriches the characters and their relationships. The warmth and underlying tension between them kept the narrative engaging and made it difficult to put down.
Allie McCormack’s Wishes in a Bottle surprised me. It’s not just a love story. It’s about redemption, choice, and the agony of wanting to do good when the world keeps getting in the way. I’d recommend it to fans of character-driven romance with a supernatural twist. If you liked The Time Traveler’s Wife or works by Nora Roberts with a magical edge, you will enjoy this unique romantic adventure.
Pages: 376 | ASIN : B07KXYJM3Q
The Ancient Fire
The Ancient Fire is the first in the Triple Goddess series by Ellen Read. It’s a fantasy novel rooted in rich Celtic mythology and filled with lush imagery, suspenseful action, and themes of identity, legacy, and awakening power. The story follows Bree, a young woman raised in isolation with her aunt Áine, who discovers her divine lineage as the daughter of Brigid, the Triple Goddess. When an earthquake shakes their hidden world and the sacred fire she’s sworn to protect begins to change, Bree is thrust into a dangerous journey back to her homeland of Tír na nÓg. Alongside the brash warrior god Lu, Bree must come to terms with her powers, her grief, and the peril threatening her people.
I couldn’t put this one down. Read’s writing is poetic without being too flowery, and the pacing dances between quiet introspection and bursts of action. Bree is a character I wanted to root for—clever, curious, brave, and deeply human even as her godhood awakens. The dynamic between her and Lu had me grinning. There’s tension, banter, and just enough mystery to keep things spicy. What I loved most was how the magic felt sacred and elemental—more myth than wizardry, more essence than spectacle. And the fairies were delightful. The scene where Bree uses fire to chase off trolls? I actually cheered.
The lore, while fascinating, occasionally teetered on overwhelming. There’s a lot to absorb—names, places, histories—and at times I wished for a breather or a bit more grounding. Also, Lu’s macho swagger sometimes grated. I get that he’s a warrior god and all, but maybe chill. Thankfully, Bree holds her own and then some. Her transformation from cave-bound girl to rising goddess is powerful, and her grief for a mother she never knew is heartbreakingly real. Those emotional notes hit hard, and that’s what gave the book its heart.
The Ancient Fire lit something in me. It’s more than a fantasy, it’s about becoming who you were meant to be, even when you didn’t know you had it in you. I’d recommend this to anyone who loves myth-rich world-building, fierce heroines, and the spark of magic hiding in ancient stories. This book’s for the dreamers, the rebels, and those who believe stories shape the world.
Pages: 260 | ASIN : B0DTT2YFYN
Life After a Zombie Apocalypse
Love and Other Cures for the Recently Undead follows a teenage girl who awakens from a two-year blackout to find she has survived the apocalypse but is now one of the undead. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
I was talking to a friend about zombies and zombie apocalypses. She’s more of a horror writer and was working on a post-zombie apocalypse story about an ex-zombie who still had cravings for human flesh. But my thought was that if there were ex-zombies, those people were probably really traumatized—it’s where my mind naturally goes. And it was that thought that made me start to really wonder what life would be like for those left over from a zombie apocalypse, what sort of things they’d struggle with on a daily basis, and how they’d cope with everything they’d gone through and lost. I’ve always been passionate about psychology, so this became something of an interesting thought experiment.
What is it that draws you to the paranormal romance genre?
I like the freedom it offers. As I mentioned before, my main interest is in the psychological and I feel like a treasure trove can be explored in paranormal romance. There are the interpersonal and social issues between the main love interests stuck within the broader context of something extraordinary with its own psychological baggage. In CeCe and Derrick’s case, they had to bridge the gap of trust and forgiveness while navigating the trauma from being ex-zombies.
What was the inspiration for Cece’s traits and dialogue?
I love tennis, so I made her this phenomenal tennis player—the type of player I could only dream to be. Because CeCe is so dedicated to a sport and having this identity as an athlete from such an early age, it shaped everything about her and who she is. For her to lose that, it was like losing half of herself. She doesn’t know who she is anymore and has to get to know herself in a way she never has. It’s this feeling of being disconnected that dictates her traits and dialogue moving forward in the story.
Can readers look forward to a follow-up to this novel? What are you currently working on?
I did leave it open for a sequel, and I really love CeCe and Derrick so I’ve definitely been thinking of how the story would continue. Right now, though, I’m working on another paranormal romance that involves a serial killer, who is definitely not one of the main love interests.
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CeCe wakes to a reality she can’t fathom and realizes it’s probably not a good idea to fall for the guy who bit her and made her one of the undead.
But in this post-apocalyptic world, everything she’s known and understood has changed, including the path to love.
This is going to be your next favorite story, so hurry and buy it now!
Love and Other Cures for the Recently Undead
At its core, Love & Other Cures for the Recently Undead is a gritty, emotional, and strangely tender post-apocalyptic coming-of-age tale. We follow CeCe, a teenage girl who wakes up from a two-year blackout only to discover she was among the Infected, essentially the undead, during the downfall of civilization. As she tries to rebuild a life in a world that has changed beyond recognition, she confronts loss, trauma, guilt, and, unexpectedly, the guy who bit her. It’s not just a zombie survival story, it’s about identity, healing, and navigating the ugly mess of grief and rebirth.
I wasn’t prepared for how raw this book would hit. The opening chapters aren’t action-packed in the usual undead thriller way, but they are claustrophobic and gut-wrenching. CeCe waking up in darkness, confused and crushed under bodies, is horrifying, not because of gore but because it’s so human and real. Ramsay doesn’t rush the emotional recovery, and I appreciated that. You really feel CeCe’s pain when she realizes her mother didn’t make it, that her best friend and boyfriend are missing, that she’s been gone for two years and everything she loved (tennis, high school, her future) is shattered. That kind of slow-burn horror hits harder than any jump scare.
The writing style is simple but effective. Ramsay keeps things clean and fast-moving, even when the plot slows down. There’s a lot of introspection, especially in scenes where CeCe returns to her old school as part of the Rehabilitation Program. Those moments of being surrounded by other damaged kids with missing limbs, haunted eyes, and weird silence hit me like a punch to the chest. And the subtle tension with Olivia, the hostile Survivor, is quietly terrifying. But where the book really surprised me was Derrick. The boy who infected CeCe? It turns out he’s been cured, too. And somehow, this book manages to make you feel something when they meet again. Confused anger. Loathing. Maybe even curiosity. I didn’t want to root for him, but I found myself leaning in.
What really stood out was the emotional weirdness of returning to something familiar that’s now unrecognizable. Ramsay captures that eerie feeling of trying to go back to normal when “normal” is gone forever. When CeCe walks through her school, sees her old tennis team photo, or opens her ex-boyfriend’s locker. Those moments are small, but they carry so much weight. And it’s honestly heartbreaking how she’s just expected to rejoin society, do her homework, eat her weird canned spaghetti, and pretend everything’s fine. It’s not. It never will be. And that tension between survival and actual living is what keeps the book from falling into cliché.
Love and Other Cures for the Recently Undead is for anyone who’s ever felt like a stranger in their own life, or tried to rebuild something that doesn’t quite fit anymore. It’s not a light read, but it’s oddly hopeful in its own way. There’s still love. There’s still friendship. And there’s still that weird human ability to keep going, even when everything’s broken. I didn’t expect to care this much about a girl with a zombie bite. I’m glad I read it.
Pages: 235 | ISBN-10 : 1957295821
LITERARY TITAN 