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Heroes of the Empire Book 4: The Captive
Heroes of the Empire: The Captive (the concluding volume in the quartet) follows a three-front reckoning: Saga Barindaughter claws her way through occupation-era Savoria with an axe in one hand and grief in the other; Emperor Honzio tries to stitch the Empire back together while pursuing a quiet investigation into Devorin’s queen; and Aria infiltrates Castle Yakh, chasing the last request of her dead brother, finds Jaxon Tana, only to find a castle that feels less like a seat of power than a laboratory built out of nightmares.
Reading it, I kept feeling how the title’s “captive” isn’t just a plot condition, it’s a texture. Saga’s chapters have the briny, clenched-jaw intimacy of survival, where even tenderness comes barbed. When the book finally lets her say, aloud, that captivity is over, it feels like a door unbolting in your chest. I loved how Azizi doesn’t soften the moral bruises: characters aren’t merely brave; they’re scarred into bravery, and sometimes they mistake spite for oxygen. If there’s a cost, it’s that the emotional pitch stays high so often that quieter beats can feel rare, like a candle you keep expecting the wind to take.
What surprised me most was how effectively the court-intrigue thread goes cold, not elegant, not witty, but clinical. Aria’s discoveries in Castle Yakh read like a page you shouldn’t be holding: lists, experiments, “statuses,” the bureaucratic handwriting of cruelty. That darkness gives real ballast to Jax’s arc, which is less a heroic return than a painful, partial unmaking-and-remaking of a self. And then the epilogue pivots, unexpectedly, into something almost tender: Jax, a ragged figure in the capital, telling stories to children who only know him as “Master Hand.” It’s a strange kind of mercy, and it worked on me.
Book 4: The Captive is for readers who like epic fantasy, romantic fantasy, dark fantasy, multi-POV political fantasy, and rebellion/court-intrigue storylines that don’t flinch from trauma but still insist on complicated hope, especially if you enjoy endings that tie off wars while leaving emotional loose ends on purpose. If you’ve ever mainlined Sarah J. Maas for the big-feelings momentum and battlefield romance, you’ll recognize the addictive glide, though Azizi’s palette runs a little more wintry and iron-streaked.
Pages: 394 | ISBN : 978-1958688083
Three-Dimensional Character
The Metamorphosis of Marna Love is a coming-of-age novel centered around a sixteen-year-old girl in Iowa with a love for existentialism who has a growing suspicion that her mother is keeping a dark secret. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
The image of a strange man protecting a little girl popped into my head one day for no particular reason. I had no idea where this was heading, but I fleshed out possibilities and explored potential plots to see where they would take me. I knew if I was going to write about a sixteen-year-old girl, I needed something to make her distinct and original to avoid cliches and stereotypes. I thought back to when I was sixteen and remembered a modern lit class my sophomore year in high school that blew my mind as I discovered existential writers such as Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus. It struck me that a similar fascination is what could make Marna stand out as an interesting three-dimensional character.
Did you begin with Marna’s inner life, or did the story’s central mystery come first?
I felt Marna’s inner life needed to be developed first. If she was going to remember something, she would need to have first forgotten something that would more fully display what was at stake. People have asked if this story was a mystery, but I see it more as a revelation, a discovery. There are elements of mystery, but I think the real story is what – and how – Marna learns about herself.
The relationship between Marna and her mother, Barbara, feels especially layered and tender—how did you build that dynamic?
I stumbled upon a Girlmore Girls re-run shortly after completing the novel and I thought that’s them! Marna and Barbara were Rory and Lorelai. Maybe they lacked the rapid-fire dialogue and parallel storylines that were a hallmark of the Gilmore Girls, but in this story, there is something in the dynamics between the mother-at-sixteen and her now sixteen-year-old daughter that shone through.
What do you hope readers carry with them after finishing Marna’s story?
As I was writing the story, I saw Marna blossom into an interesting three-dimensional character who began to fascinate me as a distinctly interesting character. With her at times daring, at times endearing approach to life, I see this as more of a coming into consciousness story with qualities that charm readers, leaving them thinking about her.
Author Links: GoodReads | Website | Amazon
When unsettling dreams and hazy memories hint at a long-held family secret, Marna embarks on a journey of self-discovery that challenges her intellect, tests her independence, and awakens a hidden strength she never knew she possessed. From first jobs and chaotic friendships to grappling with modern teen struggles-bullying, identity, and the pressures of growing up-Marna learns to balance her emerging maturity with the everyday challenges of adolescence.
The Metamorphosis of Marna Love is a thought-provoking, emotionally rich coming-of-age story about curiosity, resilience, and the transformative power of questioning the world around you.
The Pressures of Abuse
The Reluctant Bully follows a group of children who try desperately to make sense of the existing pain caused by bullying that occurred long ago. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
The characters were originally introduced in my first book of the trilogy, The Lunch Money Treasure. Without giving away the ending of the first book, I wanted to offer different perspectives on bullying, and my intention was to write a more nuanced story for TRB that demonstrates the different ways children handle the pressures of abuse.
What drew you to include the 1982 storyline alongside the 2006 narrative?
Two reasons, and again, I do not want to give away any surprises in either book. I always planned to provide backstories for some characters from TLMT in future books, and the 1982 storyline drives adult decisions in the 2006 narrative. In both books, you are introduced to an adult with a calm demeanor. However, as with a river, what you see on the surface might appear calm, but you do not know what turmoil lies beneath.
Did any of the characters evolve in unexpected ways as you were writing?
Lynn, better known as Smoochie, was supposed to simply be a Nancy Drew-type character in my stories. However, as I was writing TRB, I decided that she would also become a more hardened character and occasionally demonstrate “bull-in-a-china-shop” traits.
What do you hope young readers take away from Lynn’s journey?
That the impossible is possible. I want readers to believe that they can determine their own endings, because they can.
Author Links: GoodReads | The Reluctant Bully | Facebook | Website | Amazon
The Metamorphosis of Marna Love
Tom McEachin’s The Metamorphosis of Marna Love follows a sixteen-year-old Iowa girl whose strange dreams, appetite for existential literature, and growing suspicion that her mother has hidden something immense from her begin to braid together into a deeper reckoning. What starts as a sharp, observant coming-of-age story about jobs, boys, school, friendship, a bowling alley that feels like sensory warfare, gradually opens into a mystery about memory, violence, and the buried aftermath of a supermarket shooting from Marna’s childhood. The novel’s real engine is not plot alone but Marna’s inward change: she moves from skittish curiosity to moral urgency, and then toward a harder, more adult kind of self-knowledge.
I liked how intimately the book inhabits adolescent consciousness without making Marna flimsy or precious. She’s funny, exasperating, bright, vain in small human ways, and often startlingly earnest. Her running arguments with Kafka and her teacher, her awkward experiments with dating, her loyalty to Kate, and her instinctive but imperfect love for her mother all make her feel lived-in rather than designed. I especially liked the way McEachin lets her mind dart: one moment literary, the next petty, the next wounded, the next brave. That movement gives the novel a supple realism. I also found the mother-daughter relationship unusually affecting. Barbara is not merely withholding information for plot purposes; she is a woman who has survived something and then tried, perhaps clumsily but lovingly, to make a habitable life after it. Their conversations have a bruised tenderness that resonated with me.
What surprised me was the book’s moral texture. A lesser novel might have turned the mystery at its center into a clean revelation, but this one keeps asking messier questions: what memory owes truth, what gratitude owes reality, whether one act of courage can coexist with a damaged life, and how a young person learns to judge others without becoming glib. I liked that the novel grows more serious without becoming pompous. I do feel that some passages could have been trimmed, and now and then the dialogue explains a touch too much, but the book’s emotional candor more than compensates. By the final pages, I felt the story had earned its tenderness. It doesn’t confuse transformation with polish; Marna’s metamorphosis is awkward, costly, and incomplete, which is exactly why it feels true.
I would recommend this novel to readers of young adult literary fiction, coming-of-age fiction, psychological fiction, family drama, and mystery-inflected contemporary novels, especially anyone who likes books where interior life matters as much as events. It should resonate with readers who enjoy the introspective intelligence of John Green, though this novel is earthier and more quietly feral in its emotional weather. I read The Metamorphosis of Marna Love as a novel about how identity is not discovered in one flash but assembled, painfully and beautifully, from memory, language, and the courage to look straight at what hurt you. This is a coming-of-age novel that understands growing up is less a bloom than a reckoning.
Pages: 252 | ASIN : B0GKCJDYGD
The Reluctant Bully: A Smoochie Family Story
The Reluctant Bully is a heartfelt story about kids trying to make sense of pain that didn’t start with them. What I liked most is that author Gary Rivera doesn’t treat bullying as a simple good-guy/bad-guy setup. The book keeps circling back to the idea that cruelty often grows out of fear, shame, and hurt, especially through the parallel thread about Miguel in 1982 and the 2006 story centered on Lynn, her brother Matthew, and Jordan. That structure gives the novel a lot more emotional weight than a typical school story.
Lynn’s voice is a big reason the book works. She’s funny, sincere, dramatic in a believable middle-school way, and easy to root for. Her family life gives the story real warmth, too; the “Smoochie” nickname, the cookies with Luna, and the small everyday moments at home keep the book grounded even when the subject matter gets heavy. I also liked how the story slowly opens up from Lynn’s earlier lunch-money mystery into something deeper involving Matthew, Jordan, and the damage bullying can do when it follows a child home.
What stayed with me most is how compassionate the book is without going soft on the harm. Jordan isn’t written as a neat lesson; he’s guarded, hurting, and hard to read, which makes him feel real. Matthew’s role in the story adds another strong layer, especially as he moves from embarrassment and distance toward trying to help. By the end, the book lands on something hopeful without pretending everything is magically fixed, and that felt earned. Mr. Cavanaugh’s connection to Jordan and the final turn toward safety and care give the story a satisfying emotional payoff.
Like Wonder by R.J. Palacio, The Reluctant Bully looks closely at how children treat one another and how empathy can change a life. It also has some of the emotional honesty and family-centered warmth that readers often enjoy in books like Because of Mr. Terupt. One of the book’s strengths is the time it takes with its characters and their day-to-day lives. That steady, detailed pacing gives the relationships room to grow naturally and makes the emotional moments feel even more powerful when they arrive.
I’d call The Reluctant Bully a warm, earnest, emotionally thoughtful read that cares a lot about its characters and has more to say about family, kindness, and second chances than its title first suggests. I would recommend Gary Rivera’s moving story to anyone seeking a story featuring characters grounded in reality who leave readers pondering their own actions long after the last page.
Pages: 288 | ASIN : B0FH6BL6BV
Friendship and Abandonment
High School Epic follows a teenage girl through her high school years in the early 1990s who struggles with issues of abandonment and with discovering who she is and who she wants to be. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
My own life is definitely the inspiration for High School Epic. I had a friendship and boyfriend breakup at the onset of high school that resulted in a type of heartbreak that only emphasized the feelings I had buried of abandonment from when my father left us (the first time) when I was six. Although he did return and remain with my mother for another 11 years, their relationship was shaky at best. Deep down, I was always anticipating when he would leave again for good.
In many contemporary coming-of-age novels, authors often draw on their own life experiences. Are there any bits of you in this story?
Yes! Every event is based on real events from my middle and high school years. Characters are derived from real friends and classmates. The main character has traits that are similar to me, but she really is her own person and not me.
What were some themes that were important for you to explore in this book?
Friendship and abandonment are the most important themes in the book, even within the context of the romance that happens.
What is the next book that you’re working on, and when can your fans expect it out?
I have a current project that is part memoir and part short story collection, all with the themes of relationships, love, loss, and heartbreak. I’m hoping it will come out sometime by the end of next year.
Author Links: GoodReads | X (Twitter) | Facebook | Website | Amazon
Left behind, Dani meets Kevin Martin, an outsider who seems to give her everything her world is missing. Until betrayal cuts deep, leaving her reeling once more. Dani’s circle keeps reshaping again and again: new friends like Ryan O’Leary offer comfort, while old wounds resurface.
Through each season of high school, Dani is tested through heartbreak, mistakes, and hilarious missteps, as she wrestles with who she is and who she wants to be.
Told in a unique blend of letters and chapters, Hannah R. Goodman’s HIGH SCHOOL EPIC captures the chaos of teenage life in the early 1990s with raw honesty, humor, and heart.
Victim and Villain
Raven follows a deeply flawed woman whose love affair leads her down a road of dangerous secrets, obsession, and self-destruction. Where did the idea for this novella come from?
Raven is one of, if not the most, intense books I’ve ever written. Delilah was first introduced in EverGreen, the first book in the EverGreen Trilogy, years ago. At that point, she was kind of a classic mean girl character. But even then, I knew that she had a troubled background. Raven is a companion novella that gives the reader some insight as to what was happening to Delilah before the events of Fallen Snow, the last book in the trilogy. It sounds a bit cliché, but sometimes my characters play a part in writing their own stories. Delilah knew what her backstory was, and she led me down the path of writing Raven.
I always take a lot of inspiration from my personal life. Raven is no exception. Abuse and sexual violence are topics that are very close to my heart. Unlike in Fallen Snow, I wanted Raven to feature an imperfect victim that was also a villain. However, I wanted to make it clear to the reader that Delilah’s actions and the way she treated others do not justify or excuse what happened to her. As the saying goes, hurt people hurt people. Like I said, I’m not necessarily trying to make the reader feel sympathy for Delilah or make them view her as less evil. At the same time, I do want to reflect that victims of abuse and sexual violence aren’t always (or even usually) perfect, and that’s completely normal. We can acknowledge that what happens to Delilah in Raven is a tragedy without revoking her status as an antagonist in the EverGreen Trilogy.
Delilah is an incredibly well-crafted character. What was your inspiration for her traits and dialogue?
I am extremely proud of being able to create a character that is as complex as Delilah. The more I wrote and planned the storyline, the more fleshed out and fascinating her character became. As I said before, she started out as your typical high school bully that took things way too far. But as I kept writing, I continued to follow her journey and realized where that ultimately led her. In Raven, we see Delilah at the lowest points in her life. Throughout the story, she thinks that her choices are acts of self-preservation, but they’re actually the opposite. She’s typically a very calculated individual, but her obsession with Silas (which I will make clear is an obsession, not real love) completely throws her off. In Silas, she’s met her match in terms of ability to manipulate. The two of them being in a relationship was never going to work, no matter how hard they tried. In a relationship, there has to be concern and respect for the other person. Neither of them had that. Her traits are those I imagine a person diagnosed with an extreme case of psychopathy, or antisocial personality disorder, would exhibit. All of her dialogue stems from that. Similarly, Silas is a malignant narcissist. Neither of them should be in a relationship, and certainly not with each other.
What do you find to be the most challenging aspect of writing a trilogy? What is the most rewarding?
The most challenging part of writing a trilogy is remembering little details. This can be something as simple as a character’s eye color, etc. The most rewarding is being able to watch them grow. I love seeing my characters transform into what is typically a better version of themselves. Obviously, that wasn’t the case for Silas or Delilah.
Can we look forward to more work from you soon? What are you currently working on?
I recently completed my first adult romance, titled Crazy For You. It’s a clean billionaire romance with an antihero MMC (main male character) and a sweet female protagonist with a heart of gold. They are actually one of my favorite couples I’ve ever written. I’ve never encountered a clean billionaire romance before, so when the story came to me, I decided it was definitely worth writing. I’m currently contemplating a sequel focusing on some of the side characters from Crazy For You and getting an idea of what that might look like. It’s definitely something I see myself writing in the future, but no promises.
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Website
Delilah Banks was never the type of girl to let herself be manipulated by a man. But when she becomes involved with a tempting stranger, Silas, everything changes. Between the events of Moonlit Skies and Fallen Snow, Delilah discovers that no one is above having their heart broken. After all, we are each the hero in our own story.
Raven
The book follows Delilah, a striking and deeply flawed woman whose tangled love affair with Silas drags her into a spiral of obsession, violence, and dangerous secrets. Set between Moonlit Skies and Fallen Snow from the EverGreen Trilogy, the novella shows events through the eyes of a character who is more often the villain than the victim. What makes the story gripping is the way it refuses to soften Delilah. She is not portrayed as misunderstood or redeemed but as fully aware of her own dark choices. Through pregnancy, manipulation, and power games, we see her fight to hold on to Silas while also grappling with her own sense of control, vulnerability, and twisted love.
Reading this book felt unsettling and fascinating at the same time. I found myself both repelled by Delilah and unable to look away from her story. The writing style is sharp and vivid. I could practically hear the click of her stilettos on the floor or feel the electric crackle of her faerie power humming under her skin. The tension in her relationship with Silas is raw, messy, and at times horrifying. I appreciated how the author leaned into that darkness rather than pulling back. It made the whole experience feel more honest, even when it was uncomfortable. At times, I caught myself feeling sympathy for Delilah, only to be reminded moments later of just how ruthless she could be. That push and pull kept me hooked.
What struck me most was how much the book made me reflect on the nature of love, control, and power. There were moments where the drama felt almost theatrical, yet the emotions behind it rang true. The writing doesn’t dress up Delilah’s cruelty with excuses, and that made her inner conflicts more powerful to watch. The pacing leaned on confrontation and spectacle, which left me craving a deeper look at the cracks in Delilah’s armor. But maybe that was the point. She doesn’t allow herself to be fully exposed, even to the reader.
Raven is an intense and dramatic read that doesn’t shy away from the darker corners of human desire and obsession. It’s not a comfortable book, and I don’t think it’s meant to be. I would recommend it to readers who enjoy morally complex characters, stories that blur the line between villain and protagonist, and tales that pulse with danger and passion.
Pages: 158 | ASIN : B0F4RR5L5M
