Blog Archives
Soldiers in the Sandbox
Soldiers In The Sandbox by Scott G. A. Metcalf follows Sergeant Alex Vance through a deployment to Iraq, opening with an immediate immersion into the physical weight of gear, heat, and dread before violence snaps the “sandbox” into focus. Early chapters lean hard into sensory, boots-on-the-ground realism like dust, diesel, and muzzle flashes, and the book doesn’t flinch from the suddenness with which a unit’s routine becomes a fight for survival, or from how quickly loss can hollow out a squad’s shared life.
What gives the novel its emotional spine is Vance’s private notebook: a secret practice that becomes both a coping mechanism and a moral ledger, capturing not just firefights and procedure, but the quieter aftershocks like grief, numbness, guilt, and the way beauty (like sunsets) can feel almost offensive against the day’s brutality. Metcalf repeatedly returns to the idea that war is fought twice, outside and inside, and the writing foregrounds “invisible wounds,” blurred ethical lines, and the need to remember the fallen as more than statistics.
The book’s strengths are its sincerity and its insistence on complexity: it pushes back against a tidy hero narrative and instead emphasizes messy psychological reality, including anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and survivor’s guilt, while also making space for small acts of kindness and the bonds that keep people upright. Stylistically, it often aims for a lyrical, reflective voice, and it even acknowledges the tug between spare, report-like directness and more poetic description, an approach that I think fits the subject matter.
By the later portions, the focus widens to what happens after the deployment: the disorienting return, the struggle to translate experiences to civilians, and the long, uneven work of rebuilding a sense of self, framed less as a neat recovery arc and more as an ongoing practice of meaning-making. The inclusion of a glossary and supplementary, veteran-support-oriented material underlines the book’s clear aim: not only to tell a war story, but to build understanding and offer a handrail for readers who’ve lived some version of it. For readers interested in reflective military fiction centered on camaraderie, loss, and reintegration, Soldiers In The Sandbox is earnest, intense, and impactful.
Pages: 403 | ASIN : B0G7MZCHR2
The Red In The Wrong Profession
When I first opened The Red in the Wrong Profession, I thought I was in for a fairly straightforward piece of Cold War spy fiction. What I got instead was a lively blend of small-town drama, suspicion, and the slow unspooling of secrets hiding in plain sight. The story follows widowed history teacher Spencer and his sharp, curious twelve-year-old daughter, Cecily, as they stumble into a possible espionage plot involving Spencer’s glamorous colleague, Zinnia Tepper. One hidden coded note in a used bookstore sets off a string of unsettling discoveries, drawing Spencer’s FBI-agent brother Preston into a mystery that settles uneasily over the quiet suburb of Halliwell, Virginia.
I liked how the author leans into the ordinary. The setting feels familiar. A bookstore. A cul-de-sac. After-school gossip. The tension grows not because of high-tech spy tricks but because these characters live close together and know each other a little too well. I found myself unexpectedly drawn in by the rhythms of their daily lives. Quinn writes in a way that lets you feel Spencer’s discomfort and Cecily’s excitement without making either of them larger than life. Even Zinnia, who seems over-the-top at first with her dramatic entrances and designer shopping bags, becomes more intriguing each time the facade slips. I liked the way the book let suspicion creep in through small, almost mundane moments.
I also appreciated the choices the author made in shaping the Cold War atmosphere. Instead of drowning the reader in jargon or long political explanations, the book lets the fear and confusion of the era filter through conversations and tiny observations. Characters talk about the Soviets the way people really talk: half-informed, emotional, and sometimes a little dramatic. The coded note Cecily finds becomes a symbol of how fragile normal life can feel when you start wondering who you can trust. I enjoyed that the story didn’t lean too hard into action or spectacle. It stayed grounded, almost domestic, which somehow made the spy elements feel more believable. At times, I wished for a deeper exploration of Zinnia’s inner world, but maybe her opacity is part of the point. Spies, suspected or real, rarely let you all the way in.
By the time I finished the book, I realized it works best for readers who enjoy character-driven suspense with a nostalgic touch. It’s spy fiction, but filtered through the lens of family, community, and the messy edges of intuition. If you’re someone who likes mysteries that build slowly, or stories where a simple moment at a bookstore can set off a chain reaction, you’ll enjoy this novel.
Pages: 200 | ASIN : B0GF76DCW3
Operation Archer 2nd Edition.
Operation Archer is a wartime time-travel thriller that follows Simon — a grieving engineer in 2027 — whose recurring nightmares and unresolved trauma lead him to seek hypnotherapy. What begins as an attempt to heal from the anguish caused by his wife Lorna’s preventable death develops into something far stranger, as Simon’s sessions unlock vivid recollections of flying RAF bombers in WWII. Soon, the boundaries between memory, imagination and reality vanish until he participates in a dangerous mission with life – changing consequences. The book blends historical fiction with speculative adventure, grounding its big swings in a character who feels painfully human.
Beyond the aerial action, hypnotherapy and intrigue, this is really a story about grief and the mind’s strange ways of restoring balance after it has been shattered. The early chapters are heavy with loss. Simon’s memories of Lorna feel tender and raw, and his anger toward the medical system is explored in a way that feels honest rather than melodramatic. When the book shifts into regression, past-life imagery, and eventually full time-travel, the transition works better than I expected because the emotional groundwork is so solid. I found myself believing the unbelievable simply because Simon did, and because the narrative lets his curiosity and vulnerability drive the plot rather than spectacle alone.
The author makes some bold choices, especially in how he describes the procedural details of hypnosis, RAF aviation, and wartime operations in great detail. Sometimes I caught myself wishing the pace would move a little quicker, but then I would hit a passage where the sensory detail pulled me right back in. The roar of Merlin engines. The searing heat of a burning bomber’s fuselage. The eerie quiet of a hypnotic induction. When these moments appear, they feel less like exposition and more like slipping into someone else’s skin. And I appreciated the book’s willingness to stretch genre boundaries. It is a mixture of historical and science fiction plus psychological drama, which gives it a strange charm.
Operation Archer is reflective, occasionally surprising, and anchored by a protagonist whose pain feels real even when the plot turns surreal. If you enjoy historical thrillers with a speculative twist, or character-driven stories that explore trauma and transformation, you’ll enjoy this book. Readers who love World War Two aviation fiction or time-travel adventures will feel especially at home here. For me, Operation Archer is a compelling blend of heart, history, and imagination.
Pages: 223 | ASIN : B0G52L2ZL3
Passages – A Voyage from War to Peace
Passages follows the life of Miko Papagiannis from his childhood in Greece to his adult years as a physician in the United States. The story opens with a vivid scene on the Aegean where young Miko watches a decommissioned naval ship being destroyed during a training exercise. The grim beauty of the sinking sparks questions about memory, violence, and the unseen weight carried by those shaped by war. From there, the novel moves through Miko’s family history, his father’s struggles as a fisherman, his grandfather’s unspoken wartime scars, and finally Miko’s own encounters with veterans in his medical training. By the time he meets AJ, a troubled veteran who enters his care, the threads of war’s lingering shadow across generations begin to weave into something larger.
This book pulled me in fast. The writing is plainspoken yet emotional in a way that sneaks up on you. Scenes rise and fall with a natural rhythm, and sometimes the simplest moments hit the hardest. Watching the ship sink through a child’s eyes made me feel a pinch in my chest. Later, hearing AJ wrestle with shame and loneliness felt even heavier because the earlier chapters had already planted the idea that war wounds rarely stay in the past. The prose can be earnest, but it never drifts into preachy territory. It just sits with the characters while they struggle to make sense of their own stories, and I found myself rooting for them almost without noticing.
My favorite parts were the conversations that seem small on the surface but crack open whole emotional worlds underneath. Miko talking with his mother about his grandfather lingered with me. It felt honest, almost raw, like things families say only after years of holding back. The book also surprised me with how gently it handled the mentoring relationship between Miko and AJ. Those scenes could have turned clinical or stiff, yet instead they felt human and a little messy in the best way. I liked how the story let silence do some of the work. People don’t always confess their pain neatly, and the author understands that. I wished the pacing between chapters jumped less sharply, but the emotional payoff made the jolts worth it.
Passages felt like a novel written for people who have lived close to hardship, or who have watched someone they love carry invisible weight. It also feels right for readers who enjoy stories about healing that don’t look dramatic but instead unfold in quiet rooms, awkward talks, and brave little choices. If you like reflective fiction rooted in real human experience, this book would be a meaningful read.
Pages: 234 | ASIN : B0FBS569TS
The Tilted Palace: Weeds of Misfortune
The Tilted Palace: Weeds of Misfortune is a haunting and human story about broken souls trying to stitch themselves back together. It opens with Jimmy Ray Crandall, a retired Green Beret haunted by Vietnam and marooned in the quiet of small-town Massachusetts. His loneliness seeps through every line until a wounded stray dog, and later a disheveled pastor named Trinity Hathaway, stumble into his life. What follows is a gritty, sometimes funny, often painful dance between despair and redemption. Through late-night bourbon, raw honesty, and shared pain, two strangers become mirrors of each other’s brokenness. It’s not a simple war story or a tale of faith. It’s about survival when everything that gave life meaning has already burned to ash.
The writing pulls no punches. It’s blunt, messy, and real. The author writes like someone who’s seen too much and refuses to pretty it up. The dialogue, sharp and layered, swings between biting sarcasm and quiet revelation. There’s a strange rhythm to it, like life itself, uneven but true. Some scenes hit me hard, especially when the pastor and the soldier lay their wounds bare. Both want to die, yet somehow keep each other alive. The dog, Jezz, might be the most human of them all. She’s the glue, the silent witness to two lost people trying not to drown.
This is an emotional book. It made me angry at how war chews up men like Jimmy Ray and spits them out forgotten. It made me ache for people like Trinity, trying to preach hope while secretly running on fumes. There’s no sermon here, just raw humanity. The story doesn’t tie things up neatly, which I liked. Life rarely does. The prose has its rough edges, sure, but they fit the characters. They live in those jagged lines. At times, the story drifts into monologues that feel like confessionals, and that works because I feel like the whole book is one long confession.
I’d recommend The Invisibles to readers who crave something honest and bruised. I think it’s for those who understand that redemption doesn’t always look holy and that healing can start with a bottle, a stranger, or a dog scratching at the door. For me, this book wasn’t just a story; it was an experience.
Pages: 253 | ASIN : B0FF4B3CF5
The Admiral’s Gamble
The Admiral’s Gamble unfolds like a cinematic naval epic mixed with the intrigue of a sci-fi thriller. It follows Admiral James Harrington, a decorated officer at the end of his long career, who stumbles upon a mysterious device capable of altering time. The story begins at his retirement party and spirals into a tense, emotional journey through duty, destiny, and moral conflict. What starts as a quiet reflection on legacy turns into a race against fate, as Harrington must decide whether to sacrifice everything he knows to prevent a future catastrophe.
Reading this book felt like stepping into an old-school war movie that suddenly turns futuristic. The writing is vivid and grounded in military realism, yet it slides seamlessly into moments of eerie wonder. Author Nick Malara writes with a strong sense of rhythm; his scenes move with a cinematic flow that keeps the tension alive even in the quiet moments. A few pages linger long on scenery when the story’s emotional punch could have carried itself. But the heart of the book, the internal struggle of a man torn between heroism and self-preservation, shines bright and feels honest.
I found myself really drawn to Harrington as a character. He’s gruff, tired, and haunted by the weight of command. The dialogue feels old-school and clipped, full of restraint, like the man himself. Yet beneath that hardened shell is a depth of conscience that makes him compelling. The time-travel element, though wild, serves more as a mirror for his soul than a trick of plot. It forces him, and the reader, to ask: what’s the cost of doing the right thing when it erases the life you’ve built? There were moments that hit hard, moments that made me pause and think about sacrifice, legacy, and the strange way duty can both define and destroy a person.
I’d recommend The Admiral’s Gamble to readers who like military fiction with a twist of science fiction, or stories about aging heroes facing their past. It’s ideal for people who enjoy introspection mixed with high-stakes action. The story’s emotional weight and moral questions make it worth the ride. If you like tales that mix grit, heart, and a touch of the unknown, this one’s a good bet.
Pages: 178 | ASIN : B0FH77C97Z
Ultra-Criminal Types
Once Upon a Safehouse follows a woman who receives a large inheritance from her uncle, thinking that it’s a life-altering fortune and a mysterious mansion, but it turns into a legacy she never expected or wanted. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
During the pandemic, I watched a whole lot of streaming shows, and one of them was all about the Nazi ratlines to South America. Those shows were astonishing because a lot of the “hideouts” that were located had secret rooms, or escape tunnels, built right into their architecture. Talk about bizarre! Who would do that – unless they had something to hide that was major. And that was enough to get me thinking about it and wanting to turn it into a story!
Were you able to relate to your characters while writing them?
I was able to relate to most of them, yes – the decent characters, especially. It’s always a challenge to try to get into the heads of the more nefarious ones, and this book had some ultra-criminal types in it. Still, I tried putting myself into the place of hunted people who had convinced themselves they’d done “nothing wrong” and took it from there.
What intrigues you about this time period enough to write such a thrilling period piece?
Thank you for calling it thrilling! I look at it this way. The whole World War II era was bizarre in so many ways, and the wrong people had taken over dozens of countries in the world. Everything was upside-down. Decency towards marginalized groups was outlawed, murders of persecuted groups were legalized, and bombs were being dropped all over the place. It was insane. Germany was ruling half of Europe in an atrocious manner, and Japan was just as bad, if not worse, in the countries they took over in Asia. So there are a lot of possibilities for material! And I always try to tell a story where there’s plenty of hope in spite of it all, too.
What is the next book you are working on, and when can fans expect it to be released?
I’m working on one mystery involving suffragettes, and another about a school that closes down under very odd circumstances. I’m having fun with them both!
Author Links: GoodReads | X (Twitter) | Facebook | Website | Amazon
Former American paratrooper Glenn Halliday and his British-born wife Ivy think they’ve struck gold when they inherit a sprawling mansion in Argentina in 1963. But the house has other plans.
A poorly concealed door hidden off the parlor. A Nazi-era coin found in their daughter’s room. Strangers watching the house with unnerving intent.
As Glenn and Ivy dig deeper, they uncover a chilling legacy—one that links wartime crimes, hidden identities, and a past that refuses to die. What was this house really used for? And why does it seem to be calling them into its shadows?
Some inheritances come with strings. This one comes with living ghosts.
Once Upon a Safehouse
The story begins in Dobbs Ferry, New York, in the early 1960s, when Ivy Halliday receives a letter out of the blue from Argentina. Her uncle, a wealthy banker, has passed away and left her a sprawling fortune, a mysterious house called Casa Florencia, and a legacy she never expected. What starts as a thrilling surprise inheritance quickly spirals into something far more complex. As Ivy, her husband Glenn, and their two children travel to Buenos Aires to claim the estate, they’re drawn into a web of secrets connected to the aftermath of World War II, old family mysteries, and unsettling ties to the shadowy presence of Nazis who fled Europe after the war. The book unfolds with a mix of domestic charm, suspense, and lurking danger that creeps in through hidden doors, whispered rumors, and strangers who may not be what they seem.
I found myself pulled into this one almost immediately. The writing has a warmth to it, especially in the early chapters with Ivy’s family, that made me want to sit at their breakfast table and listen in. The descriptions of Buenos Aires were lush and inviting, and yet every time the narrative turned toward the darker threads, like the Nazi fugitives, the shadowy history of Casa Florencia, I felt my stomach tighten. That balance between light and heavy is tricky to pull off, but Quinn manages it well. At times, the prose leans a little old-fashioned, but that suits the period setting. I liked that it didn’t try to be flashy. It let the story carry the weight. The mystery around the wallpapered door in the mansion had me grinning like a kid, and the way tension built slowly but surely kept me hooked.
What really got me, though, was the emotional undertone of Glenn’s memories from the war. Those scenes were haunting, and they gave the book a gravity I wasn’t expecting. I could feel his reluctance to face Argentina, knowing the place had become a hiding spot for men he once fought against. As someone who loves mysteries, I appreciated that the danger didn’t just come from some masked villain lurking in the night but from history itself pressing down on the present. The family scenes sometimes lingered, and I caught myself itching to get back to the secrets. But when those secrets came forward, they delivered. The mix of personal drama, historical shadows, and good old-fashioned hidden-room intrigue made for a rewarding read.
Once Upon a Safehouse is the kind of book I’d recommend to anyone who enjoys mysteries laced with history, family drama, and just a touch of gothic atmosphere. If you like stories about ordinary people stumbling into extraordinary secrets, this will hit the spot. Fans of historical mysteries or readers curious about how World War II echoes could ripple into later decades will find plenty here to sink into.
Pages: 174 | ASIN : B0FPHQG2CQ
LITERARY TITAN 