Tag: books

Review: Coven of Andromeda by Ron Blacksmith

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Synopsis:

When a powerful magical artifact disappears from the Tanner home, Bree uncovers her family’s true legacy: they’re descendants of witches who fled a dying world centuries ago. Now, Bree must forge an uneasy alliance with Sam Sorken, her mysterious neighbor who harbors secrets of his own—he’s a necromancer from that same world, sworn to protect the coven.

Together, they race against time to stop Kestral Drach, a vengeful voodoo witch preparing to breach the Realm of the Dead and consume the power of countless spirits. As ancient histories collide with present dangers, Bree must embrace her heritage and master unexpected magic that binds her family across generations, before Kestral unleashes forces that could destroy both worlds.

Favorite Lines:

“The timing of destiny is rarely convenient”

“Balance has never been particularly difficult to disrupt.”

“Different paths sometimes lead to the same destination, my boy.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

At first glance The Coven of Andromeda looks like two different novels stitched together: a high-fantasy apprenticeship set beneath lavender skies on Eldoria, and a contemporary tale of bayou folk-magic unfolding in rural Louisiana. The stitching, however, is deliberate. As dimensional rifts widen, necropolis spirits seep into southern swampland, and the narrative threads converge with satisfying inevitability.

Blacksmith frames the entire story around one idea—that so-called “life-magic” and “death-magic” are complementary halves of the same discipline . Sameril, a meticulous student of necromancy, and Bree Tanner, a reluctant heir to her grandmother’s coven, spend much of the book wrestling with that paradox. Their eventual alliance is persuasive because both characters must confront inherited duty: Sameril through the austere Codex Mortis , Bree through a family legacy that offers “truths we must face” rather than evade .

Structurally, the novel alternates measured training chapters with brisk set-piece battles; the rhythm reminds me of a well-paced anime season. The climax is undeniably crowded—multiple factions, a power-hungry voodoo queen, and a spirit of chaos invoked in a single ritual—but the ambition rarely tips into confusion. When the rifts finally erupt, Blacksmith delivers the promised spectacle without abandoning the quieter question of what balance between worlds should look like.

Stylistically, the writing alternates between lyrical description and colloquial banter. A paragraph detailing obsidian pillars flickering with ghost-light may be followed by a dry aside about who is responsible for bringing refreshments to the next ritual. This tonal flexibility works because the characters themselves embrace both gravity and levity; a sisterly bond forged late in the novel underscores that the real stakes are personal before they are cosmic .

Summary:

Overall, I would describe this as A Darker Share of Magic colliding with Practical Magic at a Cajun cookout. Readers who enjoy expansive fantasy with contemporary texture will find The Coven of Andromeda an engaging—and occasionally demanding—journey. Its length requires patience, but the reward is a robust exploration of power, responsibility, and the fragile equilibrium between the realms of the living and the dead. Happy reading!

Check out Coven of Andromeda here!

 

Review: ลูกครึ่ง: Only Half a Person by Rowland Grover

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Synopsis:

When Rowland Grover asked his preschool teacher if he could ฉี่ (chi), she looked at him like he wasn’t speaking English. After holding it for too long, he peed his pants and realized he was different from everyone around him.

As a half-Thai/half-white kid raised Mormon in Idaho, shame, guilt, and confusion were normal for Rowland. He didn’t understand why he took off his shoes at his house, but his friends could keep theirs on and drag dog poop all over the floor. When Rowland lived in Thailand, Thai people said he looked farang, but white people called him Mexican. This made him wonder who he was and where he belonged.

ลูกครึ่ง: Only Half a Person is an captivating and hilarious collection of essays and short stories that explores culture, faith, and identity. The stories range from “stinky lunches” to a talking lizard questioning Rowland’s religion. Others are more serious such as when a stranger called the cops because Rowland looked threatening riding an old beach cruiser bike. Tackled with humor and heart, Rowland dives into the depths to find himself and wonders if he’ll come up for air.

Favorite Lines:

 “You don’t see me calling out ‘white customer’ to get your attention, do you?”

“Our foods aren’t weird. Our cultures aren’t weird. Our people aren’t weird.”

 “I share my story so people can be aware of what others face.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book in exchange for my honest opinion.

Rowland Grover’s ลูกครึ่ง — Only Half a Person feels less like a polished memoir and more like an afternoon swapping stories with a friend who finally trusts you enough to laugh at the worst parts. It kicks off with a preschool mishap in rural Idaho—one short misunderstanding, one very damp pair of pants—and the sudden realization that nobody around him speaks the mix of Thai and English rattling in his head. That flash of embarrassment becomes the thread he keeps tugging for the rest of the book.

Each chapter lands like a quick comedy bit that refuses to fade to black. Grover bounces from teachers butchering his mum’s Thai name to a fast-food customer who labels every brown worker “Mexican” and to a missionary buddy daring him to chew kaffir-lime leaves just to watch him squirm. The punch lines are tight, but they always swing back and nick something tender—pride, doubt, the weird ache of feeling both inside and outside at the same time.

Halfway through, the jokes stretch into essays and open letters. A riff on “authentic” pad thai turns into a quiet rebuke of people who gate-keep culture; another piece answers a reader who calls Asian food “weird,” and the patience in that reply is razor-thin. By the time Grover writes a mock cease-and-desist to his future haters, the laughs carry a distinct after-taste of anger and relief—like finally exhaling after holding it far too long. The real hook, though, is his voice. Grover flips between English, transliterated Thai, and full Thai script without italicizing or apologizing. The code-switching isn’t there for flair; it’s there because that’s simply how his thoughts land on the page. Reading it feels a bit like being handed earbuds and invited into the soundtrack of his brain—off-beat, bilingual, and impossible to file under one neat label.

Summary:

Overall, short, sharp, and genuinely funny, ลูกครึ่ง — Only Half a Person reminds us that identity isn’t a puzzle you solve once—it’s a joke you keep rewriting until it stops hurting. If you’ve ever lived in the hyphen or asked someone to explain theirs, this one’s worth an afternoon. Happy reading!

Check out ลูกครึ่ง — Only Half a Person here!

Review: The Call of Abaddon by Colin Searle

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Synopsis:

To save the human race from the ultimate cosmic threat, Jason will have to become something far beyond human.

New Toronto is a fractured city-arcology on a dying Earth, where hope is as scarce as clean air. For Jason, survival means scavenging the ruins beneath the city – where any day could be his last.

But everything changes when an ancient alien obelisk – the ABADDON BEACON – attacks Jason’s mind from afar, making his dormant psychic abilities spiral out of control. After barely surviving Abaddon’s psionic possession attempt, Jason and his companions are left with no choice but to find the obelisk before it consumes him.

Problem is, Abaddon has been sealed within a top-secret United Earth Federation research lab for over a century, silently worming its alien technologies into human society, presented as gifts with a far darker purpose. The Beacon doesn’t just speak; it infects, projecting its viral energies far beyond the walls of the lab.

And Jason isn’t the only one hearing Abaddon’s call. Across the Solar System, a ruthless Emperor will stop at nothing to seize the Beacon’s power for himself.

As the Imperial invasion of Earth looms, Jason’s quest to confront Abaddon will force him into a critical choice: master the strange power growing inside him…or succumb to the

Beacon’s godlike influence, ushering in mankind’s doom.

The Call of Abaddon is a gripping mythological tale of humanity’s struggle to overcome an unimaginable darkness, blending the political intrigue of Dune with the eldritch terror of Lovecraft, and the explosive world-building of The Expanse.

Favorite Lines:

“‘Sounds wonderful,’ Sam responded, oozing sarcasm. ‘Now, enough stalling—let’s go find the yoks and that stupid-ass robot'”

“Aren’t you glad you got involved with us crack Undocs…?”

“Right now, we don’t have time to get into that, and frankly, there’s some things about myself that I don’t make a habit of discussing.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

The Call of Abaddon drops us straight into neon-soaked New Toronto, where ex-street kid Jason and his salvage crew comb a rotting megacity for half-functional nanotech. By page three, malfunctioning bots are sparking, black-market implants are changing hands, and a strange psychic signal is tunneling into Jason’s head, promising trouble if he dares ignore it.

The spine of the novel is Jason’s unwanted link to the Abaddon Beacon—an ancient obelisk that hijacks his dreams and starts rewriting the very tech he lives on. Colin Searle layers that creeping dread over kinetic salvage runs and under-city gunfights, all while a self-replicating nanite “Phage” looms in the background, ready to turn yesterday’s gadgets into tomorrow’s monsters.

What keeps the grimness from swallowing the book is the crew’s banter. Their gallows humor and sibling snark feel lived-in, grounding the high-concept horror in recognizably human friction. When reactor seals fail or a rust-bucket drone opens fire, the arguments feel like the kinds you’d have with friends while racing to plug a leak.

Scope-creep is the one snag: the action rockets from claustrophobic tunnels to full-blown interplanetary war. A late exposition dump about the Solar Empire’s crusade opens the universe but also stalls the momentum just long enough to notice. Even so, Searle’s knack for crunchy tech and apocalyptic imagery keeps the pages—and the debris—flying.

Summary:

Overall, grim, punchy, and weirdly heartfelt, The Call of Abaddon serves up cyber-ruins, cosmic horror, and a found-family you’ll root for right up until the Beacon calls their names. Happy reading!

Check out The Call of Abaddon here!

 

Review: MATE: A Novel in Twenty Games by Robert Castle

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

MATE: a novel in twenty games deals with marriage as a chess game. What distinguishes MATE from other stories and novels about the life and death of a relationship is its radical correlation of the actions of a husband and wife to chess moves. The logic of the novel suggests: chess is war reduced to a game; marriage is chess; marriage is war. That is the tragedy—marriage, as a human institution and human desire, is innately tragic. In marriage, one or the other partner feel obliged to annihilate the other in a struggle for…what? This is the central question and riddle of MATE.

Favorite Lines:

“Psychological brutality alone would have satisfied the patrons of the Roman Colosseum.”

“This is tragedy of the modern game, the games cannot avoid desperate attempts to defeat one’s opponent.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

MATE: A Novel in Twenty Games imagines marriage as a grand-master tournament, complete with opening gambits, trash-talking color commentary, and a running scoreboard that rewards the first spouse to notch six wins. Robert Castle’s conceit lands fast: every domestic flare-up—whether it’s bedtime negotiations or political chatter over lamb chops—gets diagrammed like a tactical skirmish. The result is part sports broadcast, part relationship post-mortem, and entirely compulsive to read.

Most chapters replay a single “game.” Castle’s unseen narrator calls the moves with gleeful precision, pausing to highlight blunders and propose sharper sidelines the players never see. A simple grocery-store run, for instance, spirals into feints, sacrifices, and counter-punches that would impress a blitz champion. The play-by-play can be savage, but its real charm is how it exposes tiny hurts we all recognize—the sigh before an argument, the silent tally of old grievances—without ever dropping the tournament mask.

Beneath the quick wit sits a bleak observation: perfectly played matches end in stalemate, and no clever tactic erases the cost of constant competition. Scores swing wildly—one chapter leaves Pillsbury a single victory from clinching the match—yet triumph feels hollow when the commentary reminds us another round always looms. Class anxiety, gender scripts, and ‘90s pop politics all take turns on the board, their influence measured in incremental positional gains rather than sweeping mates.

If there’s a hurdle, it’s overload. Castle peppers every game with alternative lines and psychological footnotes; the barrage can feel like reading an annotated grand-master classic without diagrams. Still, that density is the punchline: marriage, he suggests, is endless analysis paralysis, where the move you regret is always the one you just made.

Summary:

Overall, sharp, exhausting, and wickedly funny, MATE argues that when love turns into a tournament, the best most of us can hope for is a well-fought draw—and maybe a laugh at the post-game press conference. Happy reading!

Check out MATE: A Novel in Twenty Games here!

 

Monthly Features – June 2025

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A Song at Dead Man’s Cove by Ana Yudin

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: Never turn your back on the ocean…

2023. Another person has disappeared at Dead Man’s Cove in coastal Washington. Jaded from her job at the historic Irving Hotel, Zarya wanders to the scene of the tragedy. She has heard her Russian mother’s tales of rusalki—vengeful spirits that have died unclean deaths near a body of water—and never paid them much attention. But now, on a misty headland beside an abandoned lighthouse, Zarya locks eyes with the rusalka and is chosen to be the next victim. She must unearth the siren’s tragedy before Rusalka Week, a period in early summer when water-spirits roam freely on land.

1850. Josephine has just joined her newlywed husband in Washington, in the lighthouse erected by local businessman Hurley Irving. Marriage is not quite what she expected, and her melancholia grows over the course of the winter. The medic prescribes pregnancy as the antidote. What he doesn’t realize is how far Josephine is willing to go in order to become a mother.

The Gothic horror novel follows two protagonists, a modern-day misanthrope who fears intimacy and a woman in the Victorian era who thinks stealing love will make her whole. But how long can a person hide from love, and can love really be taken by force?

Summary: A Song at Dead Man’s Cove is a mesmerizing, multilayered ghost story that manages to be both otherworldly and deeply human. Ana Yudin delivers a narrative that is as much about ancestral trauma and unspoken truths as it is about sirens and shipwrecks. It’s a tale of women silenced by history—singing now through salt and shadow to be heard.

Highly recommended for fans of Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Erin Morgenstern, and readers who crave gothic atmosphere with a feminist edge.

See the full review here: A Song at Dead Man’s Cove
Purchase here

 

With Time to Kill by Frank Ferrari

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: Everyone deserves a second chance, but how far would you go for one?

In the gritty streets of Edinburgh, Garry Plumb is about to find out. Living life on the periphery, never fitting in and always on his own, Garry’s world opens up when he meets Billy, the peculiar bus driver who has been watching him. Billy knows exactly how it feels to be ignored and his influence on Garry is immediate.

For the first time, Garry knows what it means to have his very own best friend. But this friendship is unlike any other, as Billy reveals how Garry can fix his entire life by changing his past.

But when the DCI John Waters, a relentless detective hunting a clever serial killer, enters Garry’s life, their friendship is put to the ultimate test.

Garry is willing to do anything for a second chance at life but, after meeting Billy, he has to ask would he kill for it?

This dark and captivating tale of self-discovery, murder and redemption will keep readers on the edge of their seats. With Time to Book One, a perfect blend of Scottish crime and sci-fi thriller, will leave you wanting more.

Summary: Overall, With Time to Kill is a gleefully dark mash-up of police procedural, serial-killer horror, and high-concept time travel. If you like your thrillers smart, Scottish, and just a little bit unhinged, clear an evening—you’ll race through this and immediately want the sequel.

See the full review here: With Time to Kill
Purchase here

 

The People Who Paint Rocks by Michael Stewart Hansen

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: The People Who Paint Rocks is a multi-generational horror epic that transcends the boundaries of its genre. What begins as a period horror/drama in 1910 Santa Fe evolves into a chilling supernatural thriller by 1975, where a pregnant nurse and a detective tormented by spiritual doubt race to stop an evil older than memory. A moody, unsettling, and unrelentingly atmospheric work that grips the reader from the first page and refuses to let go.

The opening act is steeped in Western gothic, introducing us to Albert McCord, a grieving husband and father seeking revenge on the wolf that took his family. But the creature he hunts is no ordinary predator—it is the origin of something far more terrifying. Hansen cleverly seeds this early chapter with themes of loss, legacy, and the illusion of control. Albert’s struggle is both physical and existential, as he fends off his late wife’s scheming family while unknowingly chasing a malevolent force that will haunt generations to come.

Fast-forward to 1975, and the novel pivots into psychological horror, following Charlie, a pregnant nurse caught in a web of ritualistic murders, and Alonzo, a detective whose beliefs are unraveling. This shift is not jarring but deliberate, echoing the disjointed sense of time that defines much of the book’s unsettling tone. The narrative connection between Albert and the events six decades later becomes a dark thread pulling the characters toward an inevitable confrontation.

Summary: Overall, The People Who Paint Rocks is a gritty, big-hearted mash-up of western, creature feature, and generational ghost story. Come for the demon wolf and six-gun showdowns, stay for the way Hansen turns painted pebbles into the creepiest grave markers this side of Stephen King country. It’s messy, mean, and—when the sun finally comes up over Red Rocks—oddly hopeful.

See the full review here: The People Who Paint Rocks
Purchase here

 

Review: The People Who Paint Rocks by Michael Stewart Hansen

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

The People Who Paint Rocks is a multi-generational horror epic that transcends the boundaries of its genre. What begins as a period horror/drama in 1910 Santa Fe evolves into a chilling supernatural thriller by 1975, where a pregnant nurse and a detective tormented by spiritual doubt race to stop an evil older than memory. A moody, unsettling, and unrelentingly atmospheric work that grips the reader from the first page and refuses to let go.

The opening act is steeped in Western gothic, introducing us to Albert McCord, a grieving husband and father seeking revenge on the wolf that took his family. But the creature he hunts is no ordinary predator—it is the origin of something far more terrifying. Hansen cleverly seeds this early chapter with themes of loss, legacy, and the illusion of control. Albert’s struggle is both physical and existential, as he fends off his late wife’s scheming family while unknowingly chasing a malevolent force that will haunt generations to come.

Fast-forward to 1975, and the novel pivots into psychological horror, following Charlie, a pregnant nurse caught in a web of ritualistic murders, and Alonzo, a detective whose beliefs are unraveling. This shift is not jarring but deliberate, echoing the disjointed sense of time that defines much of the book’s unsettling tone. The narrative connection between Albert and the events six decades later becomes a dark thread pulling the characters toward an inevitable confrontation.

Favorite Lines:

“You got more balls than brains, son.”

“Some rocks are hard to read. Some are easy.”

“The wolf he’d hunted so determinedly suddenly seemed insignificant compared to the secrets the red rocks had been keeping.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Michael Stewart Hansen’s The People Who Paint Rocks splices a dust-blown 1910 New Mexico western to full-tilt folk-horror and somehow makes the seams feel natural. From page one we’re pitched into camp-fire mist and an injured stranger clutching a dead infant, while a spectral wolf circles just out of the light. What starts as a classic “frontier bad-omen” tale quickly sprawls across decades and states, dragging in an orphan-stuffed mission school, a crooked land grab, and a sanitarium where nuns hiss Latin that would curdle holy water. The mood stays taut because Hansen never lets the supernatural drown the human stakes; every eerie set piece, from a wolf pacing in a carnival cage to a demon-tinged asylum corridor, lands on the backs of characters already bowed by grief or greed.

At the center is Albert McCord, a rancher still raw from losing his family to a “black wolf”—animal, spirit, or both. His dogged hunt stitches the novel’s timelines together: one minute he’s evangelizing dynamite-strong coffee with his ranch hand Earl, the next he’s staring down that same black beast against a blood-red mesa. The wolf’s menace is real enough to draw actual Winchester fire, yet it also feels like whatever evil the locals have been whispering about since the priests of Our Lady of Sorrows were found slaughtered on All Hallows’ Eve. When Albert finally realizes the painted stones dotting his land may be grave markers rather than kids’ crafts, the horror pivots from creature-feature to something far older and sadder.

The large cast could have ballooned into chaos, but Hansen doles out POVs like camp-fire stories—each one lurid, self-contained, and building the overarching mythos. William Ward, the whiskey-soaked heir who wants Albert’s ranch, is more tobacco-spit than moustache-twirl, yet his brand of entitled cruelty fits the book’s grimy view of power. Later chapters jump to a 1970s asylum where Sister Kinney’s bone-snapping transformations crank the horror to Exorcist-level body fear, all while a pregnant nurse and an unnervingly prescient child pass painted rocks like cursed postcards. The tonal gear shifts might jar some readers, but the through-line—wolves, faith, and buried sins—keeps the engine firing.

What really sells the novel is the language: plain-spoken frontier grit bumping against sudden poetry. Hansen can describe a saloon stare-down with the same weight he gives a wolf’s last breath or a nun’s Latin snarl, and the dialogue rings true whether it’s ranch-hand humor or courtroom doom-saying. If there’s a flaw, it’s that the time jumps demand close attention—blink and you’ll miss which decade you’re bleeding in—but the payoff is worth the occasional whiplash. By the time Albert stands ankle-deep in desert soil written over with painted stones, the book has earned every chill.

Summary:

Overall, The People Who Paint Rocks is a gritty, big-hearted mash-up of western, creature feature, and generational ghost story. Come for the demon wolf and six-gun showdowns, stay for the way Hansen turns painted pebbles into the creepiest grave markers this side of Stephen King country. It’s messy, mean, and—when the sun finally comes up over Red Rocks—oddly hopeful. Happy reading!

Check out The People Who Paint Rocks here!

 

Review: Deadly Vision by T.D. Severin

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

A revolutionary medical breakthrough. A technology, so advanced, people will kill to prevent its discovery. Dr. Taylor Abrahms, rising above his troubled past, is an expert in the burgeoning field of Medical Virtual Reality. A gifted researcher, he’s created an experimental fusion of virtual reality, artificial intelligence, and microsurgery that will revolutionize the way surgery is performed. With the Virtual Heart Project (VHP), Taylor can enter a virtual recreation of his patient’s beating heart and perform critical, life-saving surgery entirely within the realm of virtual reality. But in the political war zone of San Francisco University Medical Center, not everyone is thrilled. With a health care crisis threatening to bankrupt the nation, advanced biotechnology is a flashpoint in health care reform. Taylor’s research is scapegoated and he finds himself caught between warring factions in medicine and politics that will do anything to shut his project down, a battle that rages all the way to an upcoming Presidential election. Soon, Taylor finds himself the target of nonstop attacks: the destruction of his career, scientific sabotage, and murder, as those associated with the Virtual Heart Project are killed, one by one. Fighting for his medical career and eventually his life, Deadly Vision tells the tale of Taylor’s battle against overwhelming odds, political machinations, sabotage and murder, to bring this modern technology to reality and save the life of someone he loves.

Favorite Lines:

“Face time was a powerful currency in power-hungry Washington.”

“Blind idealism is a death sentence, Taylor.”

“Taylor didn’t think he’d ever get used to how amazing it was, to be standing inside a beating heart.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Todd Severin’s Deadly Vision tees up a Silicon-Valley whistle-blower murder, a bleeding-edge medical breakthrough, and a scorched-earth U.S. Senate race—then fires the starting gun on page one. The plot bounces between Dr. Taylor Abrahms, an earnest ER resident refining a “Virtual Heart” laser-surgery platform, and Senator Randolph McIntyre, a savvy populist who smells political gold in attacking Big Tech. Their collision course is set the moment a frantic programmer is gunned down on his way to the Justice Department, and the tension never really lets up.

Characters drive the fun. Abrahms is the sort of bright-eyed idealist who still believes science can change the world if you just work hard enough, while McIntyre is a back-slapping master of the photo-op who weaponises public fear with chilling ease. The supporting cast pops off the page too—think caffeine-fueled coders, hospital lifers who can fillet a budget request with two sharp questions, and money-men who treat venture capital like live ammunition.

What makes the thriller click is how grounded the breakthrough tech feels. Severin layers in the grant meetings, committee approvals, and cost-benefit knife fights that usually get hand-waved in this genre. When Abrahms finally demo-drives his digital heart, it’s exhilarating and utterly believable—but you can feel lobbyists and bureaucrats waiting to pounce the second something misfires.

Beneath the chase scenes and Senate hearings lurks a real ethical debate: how far should medicine bend to politics, and who actually benefits when it does? Severin lets those questions simmer without slowing the pace. A couple of late-book twists flirt with movie-villain bombast, yet the breathless energy carries them over the line and straight into a satisfyingly tense finale.

Summary:

Overall, Deadly Vision is a big, crunchy page-turner for anyone who likes their techno-thrillers wired with hospital monitors and Beltway intrigue. Expect smart science, messy conspiracies, and a hero stubborn enough to keep swinging even when the stakes jump from research funding to national security. Happy reading!

Check out Deadly Vision here!

 

Review: Living the Dream: Confessions of a Trainee Detective by Jade Cameron

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Synopsis:

When Jade finally achieved her dream of becoming a detective, she discovered that the reality wasn’t quite as she’d imagined. Living the Dream: Confessions of a Trainee Detective offers a gripping and unfiltered look at the hidden realities of life as a detective in training. With unflinching honesty, Jade pulls back the curtain on her journey within Thames Valley Police, exposing the camaraderie and conflicts, the pride and frustrations, the adrenaline-fuelled moments, and the thankless tasks.

This powerful memoir will captivate, enlighten, and take you far beyond TV’s glamour and heroics. Join Jade on a journey that is eye-opening, deeply personal, and profoundly human—as she discovers what it truly means to live the dream.

Favorite Lines:

“We were taught to be ‘professionally curious’, to think outside the box and challenge things we disagreed with. Apparently, lots of reviews of cases where things had gone badly wrong had found that people weren’t thinking critically when doing their job — they were just going through the motions and processes that their training had taught them. The drive to be professionally curious was supposed to counter that, but it seemed obvious to me that the culture and the teaching materials clashed massively. Worse, I’m not sure that the senior officers ever say the problem.”

“It felt like a luxury to me — I was being paid to sit in a classroom and learn about topics I found really interesting. At university, I had to pay to attend.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Jade Cameron opens with a punchline that doubles as a warning: the force’s favourite greeting, “living the dream,” is equal parts camaraderie and coping mechanism. From that first, self-aware shrug, her narrative balances pride in the badge with a clear-eyed assessment of what it costs to keep wearing it.

Much of the tension comes from the gap between academy ideals and operational reality. One day Cameron is handed sweeping authority and the next she is steered back into line for asking why certain procedures never match the textbook. Her anecdotal style makes these contradictions land harder than any policy paper; the reader can feel the drift from principled curiosity toward quiet compliance.

The strongest chapters move out of the classroom and onto the night shift. Custody suites, roadside crises, and an Acute Behavioral Disorder call-out reveal how quickly theory buckles under adrenaline. Cameron’s admission of feeling “completely lost” lends the book its spine: she never hides behind bravado, and the honesty grounds every scene.

Stylistically, the prose is straightforward but attentive to detail; think desk-lamp glow on paperwork, radio hiss in the patrol car, and that stale station-coffee taste nobody mentions after the first week. Humor appears sparingly, as a pressure valve rather than a performance; when she does crack a joke, it’s usually at her own expense. The result is a memoir that respects the reader’s intelligence and the profession’s complexity in equal measure.

Summary:

Overall, Living the Dream is an unvarnished, quietly compelling account of what happens after the oath but before experience hardens into instinct. If you value memoirs that tell the truth without chasing heroics—or if you’ve ever wondered how much learning really happens once the uniform goes on—Jade Cameron’s story is worth your time. Happy reading!

Check out Living the Dream: Confessions of a Trainee Detective here!

 

Review: Mercury to the Moon by J.Q. Gagliastro

~ likelystory18 ~ 1 Comment

Synopsis:

It is no secret that planet Earth is home to the notoriously greedy species known as humans. What remains a secret to these humans is the community of aliens who live hidden under invisible force fields across neighboring planets and moons. They eat eat fried butterflies for lunch, travel through interplanetary vortexes, and coexist with giant bees, solar dragons, and hairy one-hundred-legged spiders—peacefully for the most part.

Eighteen-year-old Truman Howard is not like his classmates. While they roll around in their parents’ riches and travel the globe, Truman takes care of himself, t working part time as a ski instructor and thrifting his clothes. He has no family, no friends, and a roommate who gives donkeys a bad rep.

But everything changes the day Truman meets a mysterious woman who invites him to an unforgettable place that will make him and anyone who reads his story feel like they belong. For it is there, among the stars, where Truman embarks on a remarkable voyage and finds new friends, fantastic creatures, and a dangerous destiny that’s been brewing for him for many, many moons!

Favorite Lines:

“The Sun, stubborn and strong-willed, broke through thinning clouds.”

“Hands make me, ears love me, but eyes never catch me.”

“But hey, think on the bright side. Some people can be completely heartless!”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Mercury to the Moon is the magical first installment in J.Q. Gagliastro’s Truman’s Space Odyssey series. The story follows Truman Howard, an eccentric, kind-hearted teen raised in a prestigious boarding school in the Canadian Rockies. His life is abruptly turned upside down when a supernatural event triggers the discovery that he is not just a regular boy—he is an alien with the ability to manipulate water and emotions. Swept away from Earth and into the fantastical solar system of Aether, Truman joins other “will-gifted” teens on a dragon-backed space journey led by an eclectic team of interplanetary mentors. Blending contemporary boarding school drama with richly imaginative sci-fi fantasy, this novel is as whimsical as it is poignant.

Mercury to the Moon is an exhilarating cosmic coming-of-age story that thrives on rich world-building and emotional honesty. Truman is instantly likable—an outsider who’s endured both classism and cruelty, yet continues to treat others with patience and grace. Gagliastro brings a fresh voice to YA fantasy by pairing magical realism with real-world issues such as bullying, grief, identity, and socioeconomic disparity. The characters feel fully formed, from the acid-tongued but loyal Esmeralda to the charmingly flirtatious Vedrò, each carrying their own trauma, secrets, and strength.

The novel’s greatest achievement lies in its balance: poetic prose pairs seamlessly with interstellar action; laugh-out-loud moments are layered with deeply vulnerable revelations. Gagliastro’s descriptions sing with color and style—lavender sidewalks on Mercury, dragons with hieroglyphic scales, a boarding school dorm with aquarium beds—and the story never shies away from celebrating queer, neurodiverse, and international identities. Truman’s self-discovery is not just about powers—it’s about belonging, family, and courage.

Gagliastro also smartly structures the plot around a literal and metaphorical journey: Truman and his new cohort will travel planet to planet, learning both academic lessons and emotional truths. Readers will be delighted by the imaginative elements—like Cherry the Blossom Dragon, bleeding-heart alert systems, and invisible domes—but the heart of the story remains in the relationships formed between characters, particularly the reunion between Truman and his long-lost sister. The emotional payoff is tender, surprising, and earned.

If you’re looking for a genre-bending YA adventure that fuses high-concept space fantasy with grounded emotional arcs, Mercury to the Moon is a brilliant debut. It’s perfect for fans of Percy Jackson, The School for Good and Evil, or Heartstopper—and for anyone who has ever felt different and dreamed of a world where they finally belong.

Summary:

Overall, Mercury to the Moon is a lyrical, expansive, and deeply human fantasy adventure about identity, family, and the magic of finding your place in the universe. Gagliastro has created a richly layered world full of wonder, wit, and warmth—and this first installment leaves readers eager for Book Two. Happy reading!

Check out Mercury to the Moon here!

 

Review: Stitches by Julie L. James

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

After an unpleasant experience getting stitches leaves her disenfranchised with doctors, Hero Atticus Taylor decides to be proactive. Capitalizing off of her literary-inspired name, she creates the Hero Atticus Taylor School of Manners for All Doctors, and uses both her prejudice toward doctors and her passion for Emily Post to educate medical students in all forms of etiquette. Her job has been a fulfilling and successful endeavor, until an agitating interaction with a former heart surgeon has Hero’s manner betraying her.

Doctor Lee Taylor is interested in enrolling the surgical students he oversees in Hero’s manners school but he can’t help himself from asking her on a date within minutes of meeting her. He is direct, decisive, and confident. Hero’s refusal and assumption that he is just like every other doctor who belittles her profession, only makes her more interesting to him. Even though he is completely smitten with Hero, Lee cannot see to gracefully reveal his secrets as their courtship continues.

Favorite Lines:

“If you leave this school having learned one thing, let it be this: Manners are the glue of society.”

“Don’t you all think she should have to go out to dinner with me to make up for the ruined sweater, and the permanent scar I’ll have on my stomach until I die?”

“Yes. My doctors permit me to have two cups a day. One with children so that I can scare them half to death, and one with a beautiful face for the evenings.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Julie L. James’s Stitches starts with what feels like a rom-com collision in a hospital corridor: Hero Taylor, etiquette coach extraordinaire, is determined to civilize doctors, while superstar surgeon Dr. Lee Taylor strides in convinced he needs no polishing. Their very first run-in—complete with an airborne water bottle—makes it clear the book will balance slapstick energy with a sharp look at professional pride.

Hero’s crusade for better bedside manners grew out of a childhood accident that left her literally stitched together and philosophically convinced that courtesy saves lives. The classes she runs at her “Madhatters School” offer endless comic fodder as she pits teacup drills and mock-patient role-plays against Lee’s arched-eyebrow scepticism. Their back-and-forth lands because both characters mean well; it’s just that one teaches polite small talk and the other performs trauma surgery.

Halfway through, the story pivots: Lee reveals a personal health crisis that suddenly makes Hero’s lessons feel less like window dressing and more like survival gear. The tension between keeping calm for patients and facing your own mortality gives the romance real weight, turning former sparring partners into reluctant confidants.

James keeps the mood light with zippy dialogue and meme-ready banter, yet she layers in enough medical detail and emotional honesty to ground the comedy. Late-night heart-to-hearts, a chaotic children’s tea party, and a surprisingly tender discussion of Greek myths all showcase writing that moves smoothly from laugh-out-loud to lump-in-throat without whiplash. The result is a love story that respects both the scalpel and the spoon.

Summary:

Overall, Stitches is a breezy weekend binge for readers who like their enemies-to-lovers stories sprinkled with hospital drama and anchored by genuine stakes. Expect quick laughs, a few gut-punch moments, and the feel-good reminder that a little kindness—delivered at exactly the right moment—can be as healing as any procedure. Happy reading!

Check out Stitches here!