Tag: Likely Story Blog

Review: Driftless Spirits by Karen Ringel

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

Charlotte Burke can’t shake her recurring dream. Over and over again she dreams of finding a mysterious journal on a candlelit desk while wandering through a strange house in the middle of the night. Every dream has shown her a framed picture of an old woman sitting at the same desk, except the latest version. Last night, the woman stood and offered Charlotte a keyring. In the morning, Charlotte woke up with her car keys in her hand.

Her best friend is worried but skeptical when Charlotte insists the house is real. The dream is metaphorical, Ivy says, reflecting Charlotte’s restless state. Ivy gifts her a journal and urges her to take the trip her subconscious is demanding before she wakes up behind the wheel. A roadtrip of self-discovery will help Charlotte figure out what she really wants.

Charlotte agrees to the trip but not for Ivy’s reasons. To her, the house, the journal and the woman in her dream are all too real. She sets off to do the impossible. She doesn’t know it yet, but if she can find the house and uncover its secrets in time, she might save far more than her driftless life.

Favorite Lines:

“It’s the kind of place that passerby barely notice and would never stop. It’s also the kind of place that’s cherished if you live there.”

“The internet has everything if you look hard enough.”

“Sometimes you just have to take a chance and jump.”

“Drifting through some days was fine but drifting through her years without intention squandered a precious gift.

My Opinion:

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

From the opening dream sequence, Driftless Spirits establishes an atmosphere rooted in intuition, restlessness, and the slow pull of something unnamed. Charlotte’s story feels immediately familiar in the best way. She is not running from tragedy or danger but from stagnation, from the unsettling realization that her life has begun to feel paused. That emotional starting point gives the book a gentle but persistent momentum.

What Ringel does especially well is treat place as both setting and catalyst. Wisconsin’s Driftless region is not just where the story happens, it is part of what the story is about. The landscape mirrors Charlotte’s internal state: winding roads, unexpected valleys, quiet towns that seem easy to overlook unless you stop and really look. Casten’s Horn feels lived in rather than constructed, and its routines, celebrations, and peculiar rhythms give the town a sense of layered history without overwhelming the narrative.

Charlotte herself is an easy protagonist to root for because her doubts feel honest and unembellished. Her curiosity outweighs her fear, but just barely, and that balance keeps the tension grounded. The mystery elements arrive slowly and organically, never disrupting the cozy tone but gently complicating it. The supernatural aspects are understated and feel more like an extension of intuition and memory than something overtly threatening, which makes them more intriguing than alarming.

At its core, Driftless Spirits is a story about listening. Listening to instincts, to forgotten history, to places that seem to call quietly rather than loudly. The novel resists neat answers and dramatic twists, opting instead for gradual revelation and emotional payoff. It invites the reader to slow down, pay attention, and trust that small moments can still carry significance. The result is a story that feels comforting without being predictable, and reflective without losing narrative direction.

Summary:

Overall, Driftless Spirits may appeal to readers who enjoy cozy mysteries, gentle supernatural elements, and character-driven stories set in small towns. It is well suited for those who appreciate atmospheric storytelling, introspective journeys, and mysteries that unfold through mood and discovery rather than danger. Readers who enjoy themes of self-rediscovery, intuition, and place-based storytelling will likely find this a satisfying and quietly engaging read. Happy reading!

Check out Driftless Spirits here!

 

Review: Portraits of Decay by J.R. Blanes

~ likelystory18 ~ 1 Comment

Synopsis:

Up-and-coming young artist Jefferson Fontenot has everything going for him: The hot New Orleans art scene has noticed him, and he’s finally found his true love, Nevaeh Parker. But Fontenot’s bright future hides a darkness known as Gemma Landry— the artist’s lover and art scene influencer. Gemma believes Jefferson’s talent holds the key to her seizing control of the popular Carondelet Street Gallery. But when Gemma discovers Jefferson’s infidelity, she enslaves the artist with a poison she acquired from swamp-dwelling witch Mirlande St. Pierre.

Now trapped in a rotting body and plagued by hellish visions, Jefferson finds himself reduced to a zombie-like servant for his unhinged ex, while Nevaeh is forced to embrace her past, hoping to save the man she loves. As the dark curse courses through Jefferson’s veins, everyone involved soon discovers—in the most brutal of fashions—the terror that awaits when you cross Gemma Landry.

Favorite Lines:

“If I can’t create, I’ll die.”

“A mirror reflecting everything Gemma hated about herself.”

“Now, she was no longer ashamed of her scars. They were a testament to her survival.”

My Opinion:

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

Portraits of Decay is raw, unsettling, and emotionally relentless, but never careless. From the prologue onward, Blanes establishes a sense of dread rooted not just in horror elements, but in control, obsession, and emotional dependence. The violence is shocking, yes, but what lingers longer is the slow erosion of agency across the characters’ lives.

What makes the novel so compelling is how deeply embedded it is in its setting. New Orleans is not just a backdrop here; it bleeds into every interaction and impulse. The art scene, the humidity, the supernatural undertones, and the social hierarchies all feel lived-in rather than aestheticized. Blanes captures the precariousness of creative ambition with unsettling precision. The question at the heart of the book is not simply what happens when art is taken from you, but what happens when your identity is tied so tightly to someone else that you no longer recognize where your voice ends and theirs begins.

The character dynamics are where the novel truly shines. Jefferson’s passivity, Nevaeh’s vulnerability, and Gemma’s manipulative control form a volatile triangle that feels disturbingly plausible. No one is fully innocent, yet no one feels disposable. Even when characters make frustrating choices, those choices feel rooted in fear, insecurity, or survival rather than convenience. The emotional harm inflicted between characters is often more disturbing than the physical violence, because it is so recognizable.

Summary:

Overall, Portraits of Decay is not a comfortable read, but it is an effective one. It examines obsession, artistic ego, and emotional captivity with an unflinching eye, allowing its characters to be ugly, damaged, and honest. The horror lies less in the supernatural than in how easily control can masquerade as love, and how ambition can justify cruelty. This is a novel that trusts its readers to sit with discomfort and draw their own conclusions, and it is stronger for that restraint.

It will resonate most with readers who enjoy psychological horror, literary horror, and character-driven dark fiction. It is especially well suited for those interested in stories about artistic identity, toxic relationships, and emotional manipulation. Fans of slow-burn tension, morally complex characters, and atmospheric settings will likely find this novel both disturbing and deeply engaging. Happy reading!

Check out Portraits of Decay here!
Check out the book trailer here!

Review: The Orichalcum Crown by J.J.N. Whitley

~ likelystory18 ~ 1 Comment

Synopsis:

Makoto lost her mother to a battle she can’t remember before being adopted into the Kauneus Empire’s royal family. Upon her eighteenth birthday, she receives her mother’s necklace from the emperor. Makoto’s memories slowly return, haunting her with visions of her lost sister and her mother’s murder.

She is torn between the family and answers awaiting her across the sea and the relationships with her family, best friend, and his handsome brother. Makoto fears returning home will cast doubt upon her loyalty to the emperor and sever her from the family. After all, Kauneus has no need for a disloyal princess.

Makoto’s eldest adoptive sister, Athena, remains banished from Zenith Palace for uncovering the emperor’s secret bastard. She is visited by her former dragon uncle, who shares a rumor that the emperor will be assassinated during the annual ball. Athena has no choice but to break her exile to save her father. Returning home risks death, but she’ll pay any price for her family’s safety.

As night falls upon the ball, lurking shadows and hidden agendas threaten the empire’s fragile peace. Makoto and Athena must navigate the delicate lines between loyalty and betrayal and learn what they are willing to sacrifice for freedom, truth, and family.

Favorite Lines:

“Even a good dog could still bite.”

“Of all the things she wanted to remember, now she had something she wished to forget.”

“She burned brightly for those she loved but scorched her enemies.”

My Opinion:

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

From the very first pages, The Orichalcum Crown feels weighted with memory loss, grief, and inherited responsibility, but it never leans too heavily into melodrama. Instead, it allows those emotions to surface naturally through Makoto’s perspective. What struck me most early on was how tender the writing is even when it’s describing frightening or brutal moments. Pain and wonder exist side by side, which gives the story a softness that makes its harsher scenes more impactful.

Makoto is a compelling protagonist because she isn’t framed as heroic in the traditional sense. She is frightened, uncertain, and often confused, but never passive. The tension between who she is expected to become and who she actually is drives much of the emotional arc. The idea of “beauty in strength” repeats throughout the novel in ways that feel earned rather than symbolic. Strength here is not dominance or fearlessness, but endurance, restraint, and the ability to care when it would be easier to close oneself off.

The political dynamics and family structures add depth without overwhelming the personal story. Emperor Rudolph is especially well written; his affection, cruelty, fear, and pride all coexist in a way that makes him unsettling yet believable. Relationships feel earned, particularly the bond between Makoto and Ephraim, which provides warmth and safety in a story that often feels cold and precarious. These quieter connections ground the larger fantasy elements and make the stakes feel intimate rather than abstract.

What ultimately makes The Orichalcum Crown linger is its refusal to simplify morality. No one emerges unmarked by violence, grief, or compromise. Even moments of love are threaded with loss. The novel trusts the reader to sit with discomfort, to hold conflicting truths at the same time, and to recognize that survival often reshapes people in ways they did not choose. It feels like the beginning of a larger saga, but it stands confidently on its own as a story about identity, power, and the cost of protection.

Summary:

Overall, The Orichalcum Crown may be best suited for readers who enjoy character-driven fantasy, political intrigue, and emotionally grounded coming-of-age stories. Fans of epic fantasy who value internal conflict over constant action will appreciate its pacing and tone. It also works well for readers drawn to themes of grief, found family, and morally complex authority figures, making it a strong choice for those who enjoy thoughtful, atmospheric fantasy with emotional weight. Happy reading!

Check out The Orichalcum Crown here!

 

Review: Dawn in Ruins by Magda Mizzi

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

The world ended in silence. The fight for what’s left will not.

Ten months after the collapse, teenager Annie’s world has shattered, and with it, everything she once believed about monsters. They don’t always lurk in shadows. Sometimes they wear uniforms. Sometimes they wear the faces of those you love.

In the ruins of Sydney, Annie finds an unlikely ally in Jude—a half-infected boy marked by virus and twisted science. His strange, dangerous abilities make him both a threat and their best hope. But the line between abomination and saviour is thinner than either imagined.

Haunted by what was done to him, Jude carries scars deeper than flesh. Meanwhile, Annie’s younger brother, Lucas, remains a prisoner, infected and altered. If she doesn’t reach him soon, Lucas will face the same fate that nearly destroyed Jude—experiments that don’t just scar flesh but twist what it means to be human.

As secrets unravel and the origin of the virus comes to light, Jude learns a devastating truth: his connection to the outbreak is deeper, darker, and far more personal than he ever imagined.

Together, Annie and Jude race through a city where every shadow hides a threat. When they are torn apart, survival becomes more than a mission—it becomes a promise: to endure, to protect, and to bring each other back from whatever hell awaits.

From the shattered edges of the Fractured Reality universe comes a story of desperate hope and fierce loyalty—because in a world this ruined, some things are lost forever. But some are worth risking everything to save.

Favorite Lines:

“Before the world cracked, Annie believed monsters lived in stories. Now she knew better. They had names. Faces. Uniforms. Sometimes they looked like strangers with guns. Sometimes they looked like people you loved. Sometimes they were the ones you’d sworn to protect, until you couldn’t.”

“Maybe…but love is stubborn, isn’t it? It makes you brave, and foolish. I mean she was pretty determined to  have Othello —to keep him. She went against her father to be with him. That would have been pretty hard in those times. Shit, it’s still hard now. So, I guess she’s committed.”

“And they kept walking. Not towards certainty. But towards something. And, for now, that was enough.”

My Opinion:

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

Dawn in Ruins had me hooked from the first page. It’s dark, visceral, and unflinchingly human. Magda Mizzi takes a familiar apocalypse — a mutated virus, collapsing cities, soldiers with cold eyes — and turns it into something deeply personal. The story follows Annie, a teenage girl fighting to save her brother Lucas after the world has already burned, and Jude, a half-infected boy whose body is as much a mystery as his loyalty. From the first pages, the writing drags you into the heat, the grit, and the smell of a dying city. Every sentence feels alive and dangerous.

What I loved most is that this isn’t just another survival story. It’s about guilt and grief and that stubborn will to keep moving when everything is already broken. Annie isn’t your typical YA heroine — she’s angry, reckless, and full of contradictions. You can feel her pulse in every scene, from the blood and dust of Sydney’s ruins to the quiet moments when she can’t decide whether to hate or trust Jude. Mizzi captures that inner push and pull perfectly, the mix of fear and defiance that defines what it means to stay human when the world no longer is.

The relationship between Annie and Jude drives the novel. It’s tense and uncomfortable at times, but that’s what makes it work. Jude isn’t romanticized; he’s unsettling, strange, and sometimes frightening. Yet there’s a tenderness under the surface — a sense that both of them are clinging to whatever hope they have left. Their conversations carry the same weight as the action scenes, and the smallest touches or silences often say more than words.

There’s a cinematic quality to the writing — I would not be surprised to see this book hit the big screen in a few years. Mizzi’s Australia feels scorched and hollow, but also hauntingly beautiful. Every setting has a heartbeat, from the cracked roads to the eerie calm of the water. Dawn in Ruins is more than post-apocalyptic fiction. It’s a story about endurance, trauma, and the fragile connections that still matter when everything else has been stripped away. It leaves you raw but strangely hopeful.

Summary:

Overall, Dawn in Ruins is an emotional, post-apocalyptic survival story set in the ruins of Australia after a deadly viral mutation. Combining elements of science fiction, dystopian realism, and emotional character drama, it’s perfect for readers who love The Last of Us, Station Eleven, or The Girl With All the Gifts. It’s dark but heartfelt — a story for readers who like their survival tales human, messy, and deeply felt. Happy reading!

Check out Dawn in Ruins here!

 

Reviews: The Moaning Lisa by Rosemary and Larry Mild

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

If Paco and Molly LeSoto captivated you in Locks and Cream Cheese, Hot Grudge Sunday, and Boston Scream Pie, you’re sure to love The Moaning Lisa—their fourth murder mystery with a smidgen of humor.

Now in their eighties, Paco and Molly have moved into Gilded Gates, an assisted living community in Maryland. They expect their golden years to be blissful. They are dead wrong. Some residents are missing and no one knows what has happened to them.

One suspicious resident is a sleepwalker and claims to have heard mysterious moaning during his night walks, but for the life of him he can’t figure out where the anguished sounds are coming from.

“Inspector Paco” has retired as head of the Black Rain Corners police force. But many residents of Gilded Gates fear they might be next on the list of the missing. They beg Paco to investigate.

Naturally, Molly also pokes her keen nose and shrewd insights into the baffling disappearances.

Favorite Lines:

“Getting old is not for sissies”

“The movie’s nothing like the book.”

“Molly, sweetie, I’ve got four good reasons to love you. One, you’re the kindest, most considerate person I know. Tow, you’re clever and creative enough to help me with my detective work. Three, you’re the only one that knows how to put up with me. And four, there’s so much more of you to love.”

“You know, sweetie, we have something most marriages never achieve. We’re a team!”

My Opinion:

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

The Moaning Lisa is filled with heart, humor, and the kind of small-town mystery that never needs to shout to hold your attention. Paco and Molly LeSoto’s adventures continue as they face both personal decline and a new mystery that brews inside an assisted living community. The story blends humor and heartache as the couple navigates health scares, reluctant moves, and the strange cast of residents and staff at Gilded Gates.

What makes this book shine isn’t the crime itself, but the humanity around it. The authors write aging not as tragedy but as transformation—stubborn, funny, and full of life. Molly’s dialogue is full of warmth and humor even in the book’s heaviest moments. Paco’s quiet steadiness softens the edges, grounding the story in love rather than cynicism.

There’s a sly intelligence in the way Rosemary and Larry Mild handle tone—balancing mystery with a real tenderness toward their characters. It’s the sort of mystery you don’t rush through; you linger for the small moments. Beneath the cozy veneer is a subtle sadness about time, loss, and how people try to hold on to purpose when life insists on taking things away.

If you like your mysteries with heart instead of hard edges, The Moaning Lisa is that kind of read—quietly moving, funny in its own offbeat way, and filled with two characters who feel lived-in, not written.

Summary:

Overall, The Moaning Lisa is a story about love late in life, about finding purpose even when the world starts shrinking. Recommended for readers who love gentle mysteries like The Thursday Murder Club —especially those who prefer character-driven storytelling, sharp humor, and a dash of melancholy beneath the charm. Happy reading!

Check out The Moaning Lisa here!

 

Review: Zero by Jason O’Leary

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

Smith Babbitt is in the prime of his life: he’s only 25 years into his 89-year lifespan.

He knows this because of Timmy®, the mysterious app that can tell you with infallible accuracy how old you will be when you die. Smith still has 64 years to go. But lately he’s been in a rut, and his long lifespan is starting to feel like a sentence.

Possible salvation arrives in the form of Mavis Pead, a co-worker at Smith’s demoralizing job. Smith is infatuated, despite the age difference: Mavis has just entered the last of her 43 years. She’s a “zero” – the most shunned demographic in society. When a careless act leads to their boss’s apparent death before his time, Smith and Mavis are thrown together in an intrigue that could call Timmy®’s infallibility into question. Mavis might not be so old after all – nor Smith so young.

A laugh-out-loud sendup of a technologically dependent culture, Zero is also a tender love story and a big-hearted reflection on the true meaning of age. A story that asks the question, What do we do with the time we’re given, whether we know how long we have…or we don’t?

Favorite Lines:

“I don’t want to waste my life, that’s all. And I wish I didn’t have to know how much of my life is still left for me to waste.”

“Here I am. My wholeness is not determined by the sum of my parts.”

“What a cruel fate to be human, to comprehend our mortality but have no idea what it means.”

“I still have a little time left.”

My Opinion:

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

Zero is one of those rare dystopian novels that feels both absurd and uncomfortably real. O’Leary builds a world where technology predicts your exact lifespan down to the year, where aging is a countdown, and where morality and bureaucracy mix in a gray, numbing fog.

The narrator, Smith, is painfully awkward, overthinking everything from his boss’s smile to the ethics of approving medication for his own father. He’s not a classic hero — just someone trying to survive inside a machine that’s both literal and societal. I found myself cringing for him, then rooting for him, then realizing he’s just one of millions quietly losing themselves in the monotony of data, rules, and meaningless metrics.

What really works here is O’Leary’s tone — dry, darkly funny, and relentlessly sharp. Every office scene feels familiar, even though it’s set in a future where people measure life in countdown clocks instead of birthdays. The satire hits close: the mandatory “handbook acknowledgments,” the boss who mistakes control for care, the idea that emotional exhaustion has become a corporate performance metric. It’s the kind of story that makes you laugh and then immediately feel slightly nauseated for doing so.

Summary:

Overall, if The Office and Black Mirror had a bleakly funny child, it might look like Zero. It’s part dystopian satire, part existential meltdown, and perfect for readers who love dark humor, speculative fiction, and character-driven narratives about bureaucracy, mortality, and meaning. 

This isn’t a novel about saving the world — it’s about trying not to disappear inside it. Happy reading!

Check out Zero here!

 

Review: Pigeon-Blood Red by Ed Duncan

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

For underworld enforcer Richard “Rico” Sanders, it seemed like an ordinary job: retrieve his gangster boss’s stolen goods, and teach the person responsible a lesson.

But the chase quickly goes sideways and takes Rico from the mean streets of Chicago to sunny Honolulu. There, the hardened hit man finds himself in uncharted territory, when innocent bystanders are accidentally embroiled in a crime.

As Rico pursues his new targets, hunter and prey develop an unlikely respect for one another.

Soon, he is faced with a momentous decision: follow his orders to kill the very people who have won his admiration, or refuse and endanger the life of the woman he loves?

Favorite Lines:

“If you were in a fight for your life against hopeless odds and could pick just one person to help even them out, he would be your choice every time.”

“You remind me a little of myself before I smartened up.”

My Opinion:

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

Pigeon-Blood Red begins like a crime story you think you already know — a lost item, a hitman, a debt gone bad — but Ed Duncan turns it into something surprisingly human. Beneath the violence and deception runs a quiet thread of loyalty, fear, and the tiny sparks of conscience that survive even in people who’ve long given up pretending to be good.

The story follows Rico — a disciplined, unflinching enforcer whose calm masks something almost noble — and Robert McDuffie, a desperate gambler who makes one very bad choice: stealing a necklace worth far more than his life. It’s a story built on momentum — one thing going wrong after another, until everything comes crashing down.

What I liked most is how Duncan writes violence without glamorizing it. His sentences are clean and deliberate, as if his characters are trying to convince themselves that control is still possible. But there’s always something cracking beneath the surface — a conscience, a flicker of guilt, or maybe just exhaustion.

The pacing works—sharp dialogue, short scenes, no filler. You can tell Duncan knows this world, but he never overexplains it. I finished it in a single sitting and wanted to keep going, which is all you can really ask from a crime novel.

If you like your crime fiction with heart — not sentimental, but human — this one will surprise you. It’s about how easy it is to cross a line, and how hard it is to come back once you do.

Summary:

Overall, Pigeon-Blood Red is a fast-moving crime thriller that digs into the choices people make when survival is the only goal left. It’s not just about gangsters or stolen jewels — it’s about what happens when morality and necessity collide. It’s a story for readers who like their thrillers grounded in realism, where the danger feels as psychological as it does physical. Happy reading!

Check out Pigeon-Blood Red here!

 

Review: Wooden Dolls Game by Ivonne Hoyos

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

In a game of life and dolls, Mary Jane Crowell struggles to find a peaceful life for everyone, free from chaos and drama. The Crowells raised her non-identical twins, Mary Jane and Antonia, in a fair way with no distinctions or preferences. Somehow, even when kids come from the same family they can grow with opposite personalities.

Moving to a new place means to make many decisions like the color of a room wall, a simple game of chance makes Mary Jane victorious for the pink room. This triggers a dark feeling in her sister, and she decides to give a touch of black in revenge. As teenegars they grow appart and are too different. Mary Jane is a good example at school, with good grades and the student who will give the graduation speech. On the contrary, Antonia doesn’t have a chance to graduate, consumes drugs and is an agressive girl.

An unusual set of wooden dolls comes to Mary Jane and she discovers the magic of dolls, and that by recreating the last episodes of her life she can rewind time and fix all problems triggered by her sister. A series of travels in time teaches her a final lesson that is not in her hands to change destiny and that clock hands don’t stop actions triggered by peoples’ intrinsic nature. They always detonate heaven itself or irrevocable chaos.

Favorite Lines:

“Time is an inexistent physical dimension; it is well used by ones and wasted by others. Nevertheless, time is not as dangerous as human nature. It is so powerful that even if time could be rewound, clock hands won’t stop actions triggered by peoples’ intrinsic nature. They always detonate either heaven itself or irrevocable chaos.”

“Somehow, it is being said that hard lessons are not always a way to strengthen character, but to trigger frustration.”

My Opinion:

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

What begins as a tender domestic tale—a family moving into a new home, twin sisters finding their first sense of individuality—slowly evolves into something darker, stranger, and impossible to forget. Wooden Dolls Game is a haunting psychological thriller about childhood envy, love, identity, and the kind of family wounds that don’t fully heal, even when everyone pretends they have.

Hoyos captures the fragile tension between innocence and obsession through Mary Jane and Antonia Crowell, twin sisters whose bond fractures over something as simple—and as symbolic—as the color of a bedroom. The early chapters feel deceptively calm, filled with family rituals, cardboard boxes, and small joys, until the wooden dolls enter the story and turn playtime into prophecy.

This is a novel that thrives on atmosphere. There’s an eerie domestic stillness beneath every scene: a family dinner, a fairground, a painted wall. Hoyos writes with cinematic precision; you can feel the weight of the paintbrush in Antonia’s hand, the splinters of the wooden dolls, the tension building between sisters who love and resent each other in equal measure.

While the dialogue at times leans simple—true to its child narrators—the psychological undercurrent is chillingly mature. The novel’s real horror is not in the supernatural, but in how jealousy and love can coexist in the same heartbeat. The “game” isn’t just about dolls; it’s about control, inheritance, and the ways trauma rewinds time in our minds, forcing us to relive what we can’t forgive.

Readers who enjoyed Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn will find echoes here: the fragile domestic world turning on itself, sisterhood as both salvation and curse. This book lingers—not because of what it shows you, but because of what it makes you remember.

Summary:

Overall, at its heart, Wooden Dolls Game is about the things families try to hide — the arguments, the comparisons, the moments when love feels unfair. It’s a story for readers who like their fiction a little unsettling and deeply human.

Fans of psychological dramas, dark family fiction, and slow-burn suspense will connect most with this one. It’s not a horror story in the traditional sense, but it’s full of dread in the quiet, ordinary moments. Happy reading!

Check out Wooden Dolls Game here!

 

Review: Smoke on the Wind by Syvila Weatherford

~ likelystory18 ~ 1 Comment

Synopsis:

“Smoke on the Wind” is a captivating tale that weaves the perils and dangers encountered on the Western frontier by Will Lawton, a young Black cowboy, after kidnapping then wedding his young Native American bride, Niabi. He plods a path packed with uncertainty that ultimately winds its way to an unthinkable opportunity – a race for free land.

Follow the characters of Smoke: the beautiful Louisa Ortega, who haunts the memory of the Chief’s son, Nashoba; Captain Horton, head of Fort Townsend, charged with keeping peace between settlers and tribes, and Dakota Sam, a rambunctious Civil War veteran attached to his military blues and backwoodsman ways.

This is the second book in an epic series, following the success of Weatherford’s first novel, “Blessings from the Four Winds.”

In this sequel, new characters are introduced: Liao Ming Chow, a Chinese immigrant, Sargent Thomas of the Buffalo Soldiers, and Mr. Todd Morgan the railroad tycoon. Niabi and Will raise two children and enjoy the protective company of their horses: Rodeo and FireTip. Their journey is marked by resilience, the spirit of community, and the ongoing struggle for safety and belonging.

Favorite Lines:

“For these groups, opportunities do not arise so easily; they are as elusive as smoke on the wind.”

My Opinion:

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

Set in the Reconstruction-era South, Weatherford’s novel continues the story begun in Blessings from the Four Winds, but stands firmly on its own as a sweeping, character-driven story about freedom, resilience, and love tested by circumstance.

From the very first pages, the tone is cinematic. You can almost smell the smoke rising from the black stovepipes and hear the soft clatter of boots across wooden floors. The novel shifts between places — from Tennessee ranches to the Indian Territory and the bustling streets of Little Rock — but it never loses its emotional touch. At its heart are Will Lawton, a young Black cowboy determined to carve out a life of his own, and Niabi, the Choctaw woman who becomes his wife. Around them swirl entire communities: families, servants, veterans, and ranchers all carrying their own dreams and burdens in a world still figuring out what freedom really means.

What’s remarkable about Weatherford’s writing is her ability to move between intimacy and scale. A single paragraph might linger on a woman’s quiet act of defiance, then widen out to capture the changing face of a country still reeling from war. Her writing feels deeply researched but never academic — she writes with the rhythm of someone who has listened carefully to how history actually sounded when it was spoken aloud.

There’s also an honesty to how she writes women. Characters like Louisa Ortega, bold and restless, and Harriet Lawton, dignified and determined, feel drawn from real memory. They live with both fear and agency. Weatherford doesn’t romanticize their hardship, but she refuses to flatten them into archetypes. There’s courage in the everyday details — the tightening of a corset, the passing of a letter, the act of speaking when silence would be safer.

The story moves slowly, deliberately, in the way that good historical fiction should. You’re not just reading what happens, you’re living in the space between the moments, feeling how time presses on each character differently. By the time the final chapters arrive, you realize the title isn’t just poetic; it’s prophetic. The past, like smoke, drifts and lingers. It never disappears — it reshapes itself on the wind.

Summary:

Overall, Smoke on the Wind is a vivid continuation of America’s untold stories — where race, heritage, and faith collide. It’s tender and unflinching, full of voices that feel like they’ve been waiting a century to be heard. Weatherford writes history the way it deserves to be written: not as distant fact, but as living memory. For readers who are drawn to immersive, historical fiction. Happy reading!

Check out Smoke on the Wind here!

 

Review: Unborn by Eva Barber

~ likelystory18 ~ 3 Comments

Synopsis:

Olesya was not born like other people but was found in the Siberian Forest by a couple unable to have children. Plagued by mysterious visions and dreams, she struggles to fit into a society both as a socially inept but brilliant child and as she becomes part of a research team to discover the nature of dark matter. The findings of this discovery never make it to the scientific community as the project leader goes missing and the physics lab blows up, destroyed by a powerful foe with seemingly noble intentions.

Seattle detectives question Olesya in connection with the explosion and the disappearance of her boss. She becomes a person of interest until she herself goes missing. From her kidnappers, she learns that her parents, knowing she lacked a belly button, suspected she was created by the Russian government as part of a scientific experiment, and emigrated to the USA to hide and protect her. She also learns she possesses powers related to dark matter and of the existence of a brother held captive since his discovery by the Russian government. Even though she suspects her kidnappers’ interest in her and their motivations aren’t so noble, she joins them in rescuing her brother. Catastrophic world events following the successful rescue force her to continue working with her foes to save the world from destruction.

While working to save the world, Olesya experiences a moral dilemma and becomes someone she never thought she’d be—a mother. Olesya learns of mysterious chambers scattered around the world, and her visions return to haunt her, until she opens the chambers and learns their secrets, wishing she hadn’t. Now she faces the heart-wrenching realization that she must travel into a dark dimension to save the world from self-destruction. Worse yet, her daughter, Emery, is the key to humanity’s salvation and must follow her mother once she becomes an adult because she is the only being who can travel where no one else can to restore balance to the universe and return with an extraordinary gift for humanity. But powerful entities have reasons to keep the gift away from humanity and will do anything to stop her.

Favorite Lines:

“Being different is not something you should be ashamed of. It’s something you should be proud of.”

“For years now, her hope had lain buried deep inside, waiting for the right moment to awaken.”

My Opinion:

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

Eva Barber writes Unborn with an eerie tenderness that makes the strange feel familiar, the impossible feel almost believable. It’s a novel that mixes the beauty of myth with the sharp edges of science, and it does so without ever losing sight of its humanity.

The story begins in a Russian forest, where a baby is found alone and impossibly alive. Her name is Olesya. She’s perfect — except she doesn’t have a belly button. That single detail feels small at first, but Barber builds the entire story around it. What does it mean to be created instead of born? To belong to a family, but not to the natural order that defines one? Those questions stay at the heart of Unborn, even as the story stretches across centuries, countries, and dimensions.

What I loved most is how the book keeps its balance — it’s dark without being bleak, intelligent without ever becoming cold. The writing feels cinematic, full of quiet tension and visual detail: candlelight against snow, the hum of a laboratory, a mother’s hand trembling as she holds something she can’t quite understand. And yet, under all of that, the story is deeply emotional. It’s about motherhood, creation, and the lengths we’ll go to protect what we love — even when we’re not sure what it really is.

By the time I reached the end, I realized that Unborn isn’t really about science or the supernatural. It’s about inheritance — what we carry from those who came before, and what we unknowingly pass on. It’s about the ache of being human in a world that keeps asking us to prove we exist.

Summary:

Overall, Unborn is a haunting, beautiful story about science, motherhood, and the unknowable threads that connect us. It’s the kind of book that lingers quietly after you’ve finished it — the kind that leaves you wondering whether what you just read was speculative fiction or something closer to a modern myth.

If you like stories that mix atmosphere and emotion — think The Time Traveler’s Wife, Never Let Me Go, or The Daughter of Doctor Moreau — you’ll find something to love here. It’s for readers who enjoy a story that makes you think and feel at the same time; readers who don’t mind when mystery lingers even after the answers come. Happy reading!

Check out Unborn here!