Tag: Likely Story book review blog

Review: The Brighter the Light, The Darker the Shadow by Verlin Darrow

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

Kade Tobin needs every bit of his wisdom as the leader of a rural spiritual community to remain true to his core values as murders pile up around him. Drawn into helping to solve the mystery by a sheriff’s detective, Kade sorts through the array of quirky seekers on the community’s land, only to end up as the defendant in a suspense-filled trial. He struggles to maintain a stance of kindness while he endures bullies in the jail, a vengeful DA, and the pending judgment of twelve strangers. As the prosecution parades witness after witness, the mounting evidence against Kade becomes alarmingly damning. If he were a juror, Kade believes he might vote to convict himself at this stage of his trial. But he also trusts the universe. Kade remains confident that a force greater than himself–and the justice system–has other plans for him. Or does it?

Favorite Lines:

“Most of us humans are burdened by the tyranny of continuity—the ongoing, sequential storylines we feel compelled to construct. What about directly experiencing life—letting it tell us about itself?”

“The world isn’t going to adapt to suit us. We need to transform ourselves to match it as best as we can in order to step away from an adversarial relationship with it.”

“The truth is what matters…If telling it brings up feelings for me, it’s my job to manage those internally. I’ve found that when I avoid something uncomfortable, it just sets up a day of reckoning. It usually ends up worse than whatever the original experience would’ve been.”

My Opinion:

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

This one opens in a way that feels deceptively calm. A man, his dog, a quiet morning in a spiritual community tucked into the Santa Cruz mountains. Then there’s a body. And just like that, whatever sense of peace existed gets pulled apart.

What makes this book interesting isn’t really the murder itself. It’s the lens we’re forced to look through. Kade Tobin isn’t your typical protagonist. He’s not scrambling, panicking, or even especially reactive. He’s… observing. Processing. Filtering everything through this spiritual framework that’s supposed to keep him grounded, even when something objectively horrific is sitting a few feet away.

And honestly, that tension is the most compelling part of the book. There’s this constant push and pull between detachment and reality. Kade wants to “experience everything fully,” but when faced with something truly brutal, he flinches like anyone else. That contradiction feels very human, even if the surrounding philosophy sometimes drifts into abstract territory.

The community itself is where things really start to take shape. The Brethren of Congruence is filled with people who are, for lack of a better word, messy. Not in a dramatic, over-the-top way, but in a very believable one. You’ve got people running from past lives, people trying to fix themselves, people who probably shouldn’t be living in a secluded group dynamic at all. The interviews with each member are where the book slows down, but also where it gains texture.

Some of those conversations feel intentionally frustrating. Characters dodge questions, spiral into philosophy, or fixate on things that seem completely irrelevant to a murder investigation. At first it reads like distraction, but over time it starts to feel more like a point. These people don’t operate on the same wavelength as the detective, and that disconnect creates a kind of quiet friction throughout the story.

Detective Cullen is a solid counterbalance. He’s grounded, practical, and increasingly irritated by everything he’s dealing with. His skepticism gives the story structure when it threatens to drift too far into introspection. The dynamic between him and Kade works because neither fully respects the other’s worldview, but they still need each other to move forward.

This is not a traditional mystery. If you’re expecting tight plotting and constant forward momentum, this might feel slow. The narrative is more interested in ideas, personalities, and internal dialogue than in building suspense in a conventional way.

That said, there’s something quietly effective about how it all unfolds. The sense that something is off, not just with the crime but with the people around it, lingers in the background. And the deeper you get into the community, the less certain everything feels.

It’s less about solving a murder and more about understanding the environment it happened in.

Summary:

Overall, this is a slow-burn, character-driven mystery set inside a secluded spiritual community. The story leans heavily into philosophy, interpersonal dynamics, and psychological nuance rather than fast-paced plot. Readers who enjoy introspective or philosophical fiction that feature more character studies than action may enjoy this book. Happy reading!

Check out The Brighter the Light, The Darker the Shadow here!

 

Review: Black Sheep by K.E. Stokes

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

Gem was a quiet little girl born of a loving family, or so it seemed. One day, her life was irrevocably changed by her mother’s sudden, unprovoked and brutal attack, fracturing her very existence. Years of intolerable cruelty followed until an adverse event during her teenage years forced her to leave Lanebridge and seek shelter with her sister in London. Her newfound freedom within the hostile depths of a big city came at a price, her innocence and purity attracting salacious predators.

She eventually finds a career, love and the comfort of stability, none of which can erase a torturous past and the underlying bitterness gnawing at her tender soul.

A brush with the mystical brings change, as an unlikely guardian watches from the sidelines, infusing her thoughts and decisions by psychological transference. The dark, influential encounter guides her to a gratifying finale where she must compromise what is right to settle a long-awaited score.

Favorite Lines:

“All she ever wanted was to be normal, and therefore accepted.”

“Gem was now fighting an emerging vulnerability—a shackle of ‘love’ that digs deep into your chest and tears your heart open wide—made harder still when she consumed alcohol.”

“Cruelty is a moral judgement, implying the ability to reflect upon the meaning and consequences of one’s behaviour.”

My Opinion:

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

This book is not an easy read—and I don’t mean that in a “slow pacing” kind of way. I mean it in a “gut punch from page one” kind of way. The opening alone sets the tone for everything that follows, and it doesn’t really let up. You’re thrown straight into Gem’s world, and it’s brutal, isolating, and honestly hard to sit with at times.

What makes it hit so hard is how grounded it feels. There’s no exaggeration or dramatization for the sake of shock—it just is. The abuse, the neglect, the way Gem is slowly stripped of any sense of self… it all unfolds in a way that feels uncomfortably real. You’re not reading about a single bad moment—you’re watching a life shaped by it, day after day.

Gem as a character is what really carries the story. She’s not written as overly strong or unrealistically resilient—if anything, she feels worn down, conflicted, and constantly trying to survive in small, quiet ways. Whether it’s hiding food, writing in her journal, or just finding moments outside the house, you can see how she’s piecing together something that resembles control. It’s subtle, but it matters.

There are also these small moments that almost feel like relief—like Simone helping her at the store, or her time with Dan, or even just being outside. But what stood out to me is how quickly those moments get taken away or twisted. It creates this constant tension where nothing ever feels fully safe or lasting, which makes the story feel even more claustrophobic.

This isn’t a story about healing or resolution—at least not in the traditional sense. It’s more about endurance. About what it looks like to grow up in a situation where you’re constantly diminished, and what it takes just to keep going. It’s uncomfortable, sometimes frustrating, but definitely memorable.

Summary:

Overall, this is a dark, emotionally intense story that follows a girl growing up in an abusive, isolating environment, where even small moments of relief are fragile and often taken away. It’s raw and grounded, sometimes uneven in writing, but powerful in how realistically it portrays survival, resilience, and the long-term impact of being treated like you don’t matter.

Check out Black Sheep here!

TW: Child abuse, domestic violence, neglect, bullying, coercive control, sexual content involving a minor, mental health distress, and suicidal ideation.

 

Review: Enoch Mast’s Ballroom by Paul H. Lepp

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

Plantations filled the Antebellum Period and mansions the Gilded Age. Much is known about those who lived and designed them, little is known about those who built and renovated them. At the time, the public had their halls and theaters to discuss their issues, and the wealthy had their private auditoriums or ballrooms to weigh what the public was saying. The story of Enoch Mast’s Ballroom takes place on the eve of World War I and covers all types of terrain, ending where it began in Cleveland, Ohio. It revolves around a contract Enoch Mast entered with the Lasbrith family to renovate their ballroom on Euclid Avenue, a location better known as Millionaires Row. He entered this agreement against the advice of associates and friends who told him they never pay the full amount. The Lasbriths’ have an army of lawyers on retainer and who always give any work to be done to the highest bidder and then have their lawyers beat the contractor down to the price found on the lowest bid. This approach didn’t work on Enoch Mast. He succeeds in taking over their ballroom, it becomes his. There he leaves his mark on the ballroom and history.

Favorite Lines:

“The lion’s share of history consists of anonymous people and random events.”

“The past always surrenders its secrets to fate…“

“Let the cube explain to them the present can’t exist without the past, and  the future can’t exist without the present—the present trapped between the two.”

My Opinion:

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

Enoch Mast’s Ballroom opens quietly, almost deceptively so, with a stonemason, a cemetery, a single object placed with care. At first, I thought I was settling into a historical piece. Instead, I realized pretty quickly that this book is interested in something slower and stranger: how stories get embedded in objects, how history speaks when people don’t, and how much meaning can be hidden in what looks ornamental.

What struck me most is how patiently the novel builds its scaffolding. The voice lingers. It circles. It pauses to look backward before it ever moves forward. At times, this felt indulgent—but more often, it felt intentional. The book seems deeply aware of time: how people experience it, how nations mark it, how individuals are crushed or shaped by it. Enoch Mast himself is less a traditional protagonist and more a gravitational center. Lives, events, and ideas orbit him, sometimes loosely, sometimes with uncomfortable closeness.

There’s a heavy historical weight here—slavery, class divisions, labor, wealth, power—but it’s filtered through a personal lens that keeps it from becoming a textbook. Still, this isn’t light reading. The book asks you to sit with uncomfortable truths and to notice patterns that repeat themselves across generations. The metaphor of the ballroom works especially well: a space meant for beauty, display, and privilege, sitting atop systems that are far less elegant. I found myself thinking about how often wealth hides violence simply by polishing its surfaces.

That said, this book won’t be for everyone. The pacing is deliberate, sometimes slow to the point of testing your patience, and the narrative voice can feel distant. If you’re looking for a tight plot or constant forward motion, this may feel frustrating. But if you’re willing to let the book unfold on its own terms, it rewards attention. By the time I finished, I didn’t feel like I had just read a story—I felt like I had walked through a long corridor of American memory, stopping at doors that are usually left closed.

Summary:

Overall, I would recommend this to readers who enjoy literary historical fiction, idea-driven narratives, and books that linger on symbolism, class, labor, and the long shadows of American history. As a slow, reflective historical novel that’s more concerned with memory, power, and what gets buried than with plot momentum, this book may be best suited for patient readers who don’t mind a deliberate pace and prefer atmosphere and reflection over action-heavy storytelling. Happy reading!

Check out Enoch Mast’s Ballroom here!

 

Review: Brilliant Genesia by Eva Barber

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

In a society that cages women’s minds, a young girl’s disturbing visions lead her to Dr. Mitchell, a psychiatrist who helps her escape her predestined existence. Zara must now hide her true identity to follow her dreams of becoming a scientist studying dark matter. But when a tragic explosion shatters her world, she must flee to a different continent with her forbidden lover and their unborn child. In that new world, the foe from her past resurfaces and kidnaps her daughter. Zara must now follow her foe into a different realm.

Years later, her daughter, Emery, emerges from a different dimension with amnesia, forced to piece together her mother’s fragmented legacy to rediscover her own identity and the extraordinary power she possesses. Taunted by figures from her past she can’t remember, Emery must confront a multi-generational conspiracy that threatens to alter reality itself.

Favorite Lines:

“Ideas and thoughts are never stupid, Zara.”

“Fourth time is the charm?”

“She is the love of my life. She is my emery. I knew and loved her in a previous life, in another dimension, in another realm. She is my destiny.”

My Opinion:

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

Brilliant Genesia begins as a quiet, unsettling dystopian story centered on Zara, a girl growing up in a rigid society where gender roles are enforced with clinical calm. Her visions of a woman trapped behind glass feel, at first, like a psychological mystery. Is she ill? Is she imagining things? But the more Zara questions the world around her — the aptitude tests, the carefully controlled research, the expectations placed on girls — the more it becomes clear that the real instability lies in the system itself. The early chapters are heavy with tension, not because of explosions or spectacle, but because of silence: what Zara cannot say, what her father will not discuss, and what her doctor may or may not be protecting her from.

What works particularly well in the first half is the slow intellectual rebellion. Zara’s awakening doesn’t come through dramatic speeches. It comes through memory, curiosity, and the terrifying realization that she might be smarter — and freer — than the world wants her to be. The recurring image of the glass barrier becomes a powerful metaphor for confinement, truth, and generational suppression. The therapy sessions with Dr. Mitchell are layered with subtext, and the domestic pressure from her father reinforces how deeply control runs in Andalian culture.

But the book does not stay contained in that quiet psychological space. As the story progresses, the scope widens dramatically. New characters step forward, and the narrative shifts into something more kinetic and expansive. Underground facilities, covert movements, rescue attempts, confrontations with authority — the second half becomes much more action-driven and ensemble-focused. The stakes move from internal questioning to physical survival. What began as a personal awakening evolves into a larger reckoning with systemic control and hidden truths. The world-building grows broader, and the tone becomes more urgent.

This structural shift may surprise some readers, but it ultimately reinforces the book’s central theme: once truth surfaces, it spreads. The later chapters lean into loyalty, sacrifice, power, and the cost of confronting institutions built on deception. Where the first half feels claustrophobic and introspective, the second half feels dangerous and wide open. Together, they form a story that moves from quiet resistance to tangible action.

Summary:

Overall, Brilliant Genesia is a layered dystopian novel that blends psychological tension with broader sci-fi elements. It asks big questions about gender, autonomy, institutionalized falsehoods, and inherited control — and then explores what happens when those questions refuse to stay buried. Readers who appreciate both slow-burn intellectual rebellion and later plot-driven momentum will likely find this one compelling. Happy reading!

Check out Brilliant Genesia here!

 

Monthly Features – February 2026

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Twin Rivers by Jeremy Bender

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

Synopsis: The High Priest rules the city of Twin Rivers in the name of the Lord of Mercy, his AI god. In this land, where robotic Brothers complete all labor and humans are left to enjoy the fruits of this Eden, something rotten grows. Yonatan, a newly ascended Priest in the sclerotic Priesthood, is meant to shore up the faith of those left behind. Yet as Yonatan’s preaching takes him deep into the city’s bowels, he must confront heresy far deeper rooted than he ever imagined. When he sees one of the city’s paramilitary Keepers leave a young woman to die because of her unsanctioned implants, Yonatan must decide whether his faith in the Lord of Mercy outweighs his own belief in human exceptionalism.

Summary: Overall, Twin Rivers is a dense, unsettling dystopian sci-fi novel about a city that calls itself paradise while feeding on control, faith, and violence. Through priests, enforcers, and those left outside the walls, it explores how power hides behind ritual and how mercy becomes a weapon. Dark, intense, and uncomfortable in the right ways, it’s a story about what people are willing to ignore to keep believing they’re safe.

See the full review here: Twin Rivers
Purchase here

 

The Dog Years of Ananias Zachenko by Paul H. Lepp

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

Synopsis: What do you do when you run out of time? Ask Ananias Ezra Zachenko what he did after he was diagnosed. He set an agenda, took care of finances, delved into relationships, considered the heroic act. Didn’t go into denial, but defiance, there’s a difference.

He put it all in motion during the time he had left. A dog gets seven years to our one. Chenko rationalized the relationship by taking the best from both, our days the dog’s years and began to calculate. Anything to lengthen the short leash he is on.

During his dog years he planned for everything, but nothing turned out as expected. He concentrated on time, when he should have been looking at weight. No matter the type of year, when one runs out of time on this side, one has to figure out how to make weight on the other side.

Summary: Overall, The Dog Years of Ananias Zachenko  is a quiet, thoughtful novel about illness, time, and the way diagnosis forces a person to renegotiate their relationship with living. Grounded, reflective, and emotionally restrained, this story explores how we measure time when the future becomes uncertain — and whether time can ever really be controlled at all. 

See the full review here: The Dog Years of Ananias Zachenko
Purchase here

 

Her Ravishing Heartless Prince by A P Von K’Ory

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

Synopsis: He’s a European prince with a thousand-year lineage—and he hates her as much as he craves her.

Alyssa:

Prince Carl-Theodor Frederick Maximillian Christoph Albert Maria Johann Anselm is as insufferable as his name is long. Arrogant, powerful, entitled—everything I despise wrapped in devastatingly gorgeous packaging.

So I do what I do best: verbally eviscerate him and his precious bloodline with razor-sharp insults. I avoid him like the plague.

But avoidance only delays the inevitable.

Soon he has me exactly where I’ve been secretly fantasizing—on my knees before him. The problem? I can’t tell if this is seduction or revenge. Prince Hot and Cold swings between arctic ice and molten lava, dragging me to the edge of beautiful insanity.

The real question: will I survive the fall?

Prince Carl-Theodor:

Alyssa obliterates my world like a derailed train the moment we meet. Her beauty blinds me—then her vicious tongue insults thirteen thousand years of noble bloodline.

No one has ever dared.

As Head and Defender of the House of Saxony-Bremer, I vow on my ancestors’ graves to make her pay. I’ll bend her. Break her. Make her beg until she drowns in regret.

But here’s the twisted irony that threatens everything: hurting her destroys me too.

I can watch her crumble, hear her wounded cries—but the moment she surrenders, something in my chest stops cold.
Have I sworn an oath that will damn us both? And why does her pain feel like my own destruction?

Summary: Overall, this is a high-drama, ego-heavy royal romance where attraction and revenge walk hand in hand. If you enjoy dominant alpha tension, pride-fueled misunderstandings, and romance wrapped in luxury and lineage, this delivers an intense, indulgent ride.

See the full review here: Her Ravishing Heartless Prince
Purchase here

 

The 7 Albums of Stovepipe by Paul H. Lepp

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

Synopsis: From 1948 to 1982 nothing was as high mileage as a turntable. The speed limit was set at 331/3 rpms to take a spin down a highway of tunes on a ten-inch vinyl LP (Long Play) record album. The turning point 1982 when Compact Discs began to put the albums in our attics and closets. To some the change from LP to CD was a turning point on the same level as BC to AD. A wealthy collector has a well-trained staff they spend their time on finding the artifacts the turning points of the Boomer Generation left behind, items like Lee Harvey Oswalt’s belt, Jack Ruby’s cuff links. His staff comes across a nine word offer on the net, “Any Albums Made by the Stovepipe – Name Your Price.” He allows his staff to investigate, the project becomes an obsession. What they find out is a group known as The Chronologists are also interested in the authenticity of Stovepipe, the Musical Massiah between LP and CD, master of voice and instrument, lord of technology. Both Collector and Chronologists want to prove Stovepipe beyond a myth like Paul Bunyan or Johnny Appleseed, but for different reasons. One wants to prove he is alive, the other dead, and only one can be right.

Summary: Overall, a dense, unconventional novel that blends conspiracy, cultural history, and myth-making, The Seven Albums of Stovepipe is less about proving whether its central figure exists and more about why we need him to. The book rewards patient readers who enjoy experimental fiction, unreliable narrators, and stories that feel part oral history, part conspiracy file — especially those interested in music culture and how influence gets erased or mythologized. 

See the full review here: The 7 Albums of Stovepipe
Purchase here

 

Review: Her Lethal Crown Assassin by A P Von K’Ory

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

A MAFIA PRINCESS
DARK KNIGHT BRITISH ARISTOCRAT
WHO’D BURN DOWN THE PLANET FOR HER

When powerful Mafia fathers need to settle debts, even daughters become currency. But Ambrosia Gianovecci Derossa has never been anyone’s pawn—and at twenty-one, she’s done playing by her father’s rules.

Ambrosia

Kidnapped from my Swiss holiday by a lethally gorgeous knight and whisked off to London on his private jet, I should be terrified. Instead, I’m fascinated. My captor is a stone-cold Crown assassin with impeccable manners and a plan to use me as bait for my notorious father. What he doesn’t know? There’s no love lost between the Phantom and his rebellious daughter.

Enjoying my captivity baffles my royalty abductor. The twisted attraction crackling between us floors him. Mafia princess. Knighted British gentleman killer who’s honor-bound to treat me respectfully. Kryptonite. I plan to take full advantage and charm him out of his rigid self-control.

Unfortunately, he’s about as easily swayed as the Rock of Gibraltar.

Damien

The Crown tasks me with one mission: capture the Phantom, an American crime lord more powerful than the Vatican and twice as elusive. A Royal Marines Commando, I’m built for impossible missions. Kidnapping his daughter to smoke him out should have been simple.

Think again. Now I’m trapped in a London penthouse, playing bodyguard to a 21-year-old who’s pure temptation wrapped in designer silk. Any involvement violates every code of ethics in my profession and threatens my knighthood. She’s forbidden territory.

But she flirts without boundaries, pushing me toward something dark and possessive that has nothing to do with duty. She shatters my armour, makes my resistance chains disintegrate, and awakens a hunger I’ve never known. With her, sin looks so devastatingly beautiful. I need divine f*cking intervention.

And I’m starting to wonder if I even want that.

Favorite Lines:

“God, give me strength. And Devil, please rip it the fuck away.”

“The gods aren’t heroes, the assassins are. The villains aren’t monsters, the angels are. The titans shy away from cruelty, the heroes drink it to survive. Give the villain your heart and he’ll save it in anticipation of possible further use for it down the road. Give the hero your heart and he’ll crush it under his feet on his way to his heroic deeds. The bad boys are the ones who take and admit they’re doing so, take it or leave it. The good boys are the heart-stealers who slip silently into it and then away with it, never to be seen again, leaving you with an empty hollow in your chest.”

“In the darkness, I hold her close and wonder if healing can really be this simple— if love can truly be stronger than shame.”

My Opinion:

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

Within the first pages we get birthday betrayal, mafia politics, a controlling father known as The Phantom, and a daughter who is done being traded like hard currency. Ambrosia Giannovecci Derossa is not soft. She’s sharp. Angry. Wounded. Gothic. She walks into rooms like she’s both the bomb and the fuse.

And then we get Damien. 

Elite Royal Marine. Calm. Surgical. Tactical. The kind of man who runs chemical simulations for breakfast and treats kidnapping like a chess problem. His perspective shifts the tone from emotional rebellion to strategic surveillance. Where Ambrosia burns, Damien calculates.

What makes the book compelling is that it’s not just a romance — it’s a collision course. A mafia princess raised to be bartered. A British operative tasked with using her as bait. Neither of them fully what they appear. Both more dangerous than advertised.

The setting leans fully into excess — private jets, Swiss Alps penthouses, rooftop helipads, armored SUVs. But the luxury isn’t decorative. It’s part of the tension. Every opulent space is also a potential trap. Every high-end suite doubles as a battlefield.

The pacing feels cinematic. Surveillance scenes. Tactical planning. Chemical mixtures. Helicopter arrivals. You can practically hear the score swelling under it all. It reads like a blend of mafia dynasty drama and espionage thriller, layered with simmering attraction neither side wants to admit.

The writing is bold and unapologetic. It doesn’t whisper. It declares. Internal monologues can run long. Metaphors occasionally stretch. Dialogue sometimes leans theatrical rather than subtle. But there’s ambition here — big themes, big stakes, big power dynamics. It commits fully to its world.

At its core, this story is about control. Who has it. Who loses it. And what happens when two people who are used to operating at the highest levels of power find themselves circling each other. It’s intense. It’s dramatic. It’s morally gray.

Summary:

Overall, this story is a high-stakes collision between a furious mafia heiress and a calculating British operative tasked with kidnapping her. Set against a backdrop of extreme wealth and global power politics, the story blends dynasty drama with tactical espionage. The writing leans bold and sometimes theatrical, but the tension, scale, and cinematic ambition keep it gripping. If you enjoy morally gray characters, elite military strategy, mafia power struggles, and attraction layered over danger, this delivers intensity from start to finish. Happy reading!

Check out Her Lethal Crown Assassin here!

 

Review: The 7 Albums of Stovepipe by Paul H. Lepp

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

From 1948 to 1982 nothing was as high mileage as a turntable. The speed limit was set at 331/3 rpms to take a spin down a highway of tunes on a ten-inch vinyl LP (Long Play) record album. The turning point 1982 when Compact Discs began to put the albums in our attics and closets. To some the change from LP to CD was a turning point on the same level as BC to AD. A wealthy collector has a well-trained staff they spend their time on finding the artifacts the turning points of the Boomer Generation left behind, items like Lee Harvey Oswalt’s belt, Jack Ruby’s cuff links. His staff comes across a nine word offer on the net, “Any Albums Made by the Stovepipe – Name Your Price.” He allows his staff to investigate, the project becomes an obsession. What they find out is a group known as The Chronologists are also interested in the authenticity of Stovepipe, the Musical Massiah between LP and CD, master of voice and instrument, lord of technology. Both Collector and Chronologists want to prove Stovepipe beyond a myth like Paul Bunyan or Johnny Appleseed, but for different reasons. One wants to prove he is alive, the other dead, and only one can be right.

Favorite Lines:

“Every great turning point in history leaves behind some artifact of the moment.”

“Human nature moves in two gears: conscious and subconscious, what we see and what we dream. At times, human nature finds it hard to separate the real from the imagined. That it’s in our nature to combine the two and call it history.”

“The only thing we can’t afford is to overlook any moment in our time that changed us.”

My Opinion:

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

This is a book that doesn’t want to be read quickly. It wants to be circled, revisited, argued with, and maybe put down for a while before you come back. The Seven Albums of Stovepipe presents itself as a kind of investigation, but it quickly becomes something stranger: a meditation on authenticity, myth-making, and how culture decides what (and who) matters.

The framing device — a wealthy collector obsessed with historical turning points — works as more than a narrative hook. It becomes a lens for examining how we assign value. The artifacts, the surveillance, the obsession with documentation all point toward a deeper anxiety: that something meaningful slipped past unnoticed, and that history might have gotten it wrong. Stovepipe isn’t just a missing musician; he’s a missing explanation.

What’s most compelling is the book’s refusal to settle into a single genre. It reads at times like a conspiracy file, at times like oral history, and at others like philosophical riffing disguised as cultural criticism. The voices of the First Contacts feel intentionally uneven — not polished, not always reliable, but deeply convinced. Their certainty becomes contagious. You start wanting Stovepipe to exist simply because so many people need him to.

The language is dense, rhythmic, and unapologetically idiosyncratic. This is not streamlined prose. Lepp leans hard into repetition, digression, and accumulation, and that choice mirrors the book’s central question: does meaning come from clarity, or from persistence? The reader is asked to do work here — to follow long riffs, to sit with ambiguity, to accept that proof may never arrive in a clean form.

By the time the book reaches its later sections, the search itself feels more important than the answer. The Chronologists, the collector, the First Contacts — all of them are trying to control a narrative before it controls them. Whether Stovepipe is real almost becomes secondary. What matters is the hunger for belief, the fear of being late to history, and the quiet terror that the most important things might only exist on the margins, half-heard and easily erased.

This is a book about music, yes — but more than that, it’s about who gets to define influence. About how culture canonizes some voices while others survive only through rumor, devotion, and fragments. The Seven Albums of Stovepipe doesn’t give you answers so much as it dares you to decide what you’re willing to believe without them.

Summary:

Overall, a dense, unconventional novel that blends conspiracy, cultural history, and myth-making, The Seven Albums of Stovepipe is less about proving whether its central figure exists and more about why we need him to. The book rewards patient readers who enjoy experimental fiction, unreliable narrators, and stories that feel part oral history, part conspiracy file — especially those interested in music culture and how influence gets erased or mythologized. Happy reading!

Check out The 7 Albums of Stovepipe here!

 

Review: My Family and the End of Everything by Joe Graves

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

The end of everything begins closer than you think. Of course, it always includes such foul practices as bureaucratic corruption, disregard for science (or the overindulgence of it), and corrupted religion. But this is not where it starts. It begins much closer to home-smart homes to be exact, and well-intentioned inventions (they really did think it was a good idea)-and human consolidation, and old men doing their best to retire.

My Family and the End of Everything follows generations of the Profeta family as they march naively towards the setting sun. The ending doesn’t come with explosions-at least, not at first. It arrives quietly, in funerals, final meditations, historical preservation, and decisions no one remembers volunteering for. From networked houses and autonomous bots to terraformed worlds, time travel, dying suns, and suspiciously ceremonial banquets, these stories track humanity’s ongoing attempt to stay human, in all our gloriously human ways.

This isn’t one apocalypse, but several, for the world ends far more often than we’d like to admit. Yet somehow, through all of them, a family-and their stubborn faith in each other and in their God-finds a way to endure and present to us this question: If we could change the future, would we?

Favorite Lines:

As I do with all of my short story collection reviews, rather than favorite lines, here are a few of my favorite stories: The House, The Pivot, and The Day the Sun Died.

My Opinion:

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

This is one of those books that feels quiet while you’re reading it — and then very loud in your head afterward. I went in expecting a more traditional sci-fi dystopia: smart homes, neural implants, generational timelines, the sun literally going dark. And yes, all of that is here. But what surprised me most is how personal it feels. The novel is structured as a collection of short stories that tell family histories. Each story stands on its own, with its own setting, tone, and central character, but they’re stitched together by bloodlines, history, and a shared looming reality: the slow unraveling of humanity under the weight of technology, time, and its own ambition.

The early stories, like The House and The Water That Shapes Us, are intimate and unsettling. They explore smart homes that optimize autonomy away and villages wrestling with the moral cost of hyperconnection. But those are just the opening notes. As the book unfolds, we move into space brokers and gravity trials, time-traveling historians chasing the elusive “Pivot,” off-world settlements, generational missions, political maneuvering, and ultimately the literal death of the sun. Each short story feels like a snapshot from a different era of the same extended family — different centuries, different planets, different moral dilemmas — but all orbiting the same core questions: What shapes us? What do we inherit? What do we sacrifice to survive?

Because it’s structured as a collection, the pacing feels episodic. Some stories hit harder emotionally, some lean more philosophical, and others feel almost like thought experiments wrapped in narrative. That variety is part of the experience. You’re not meant to sink into one continuous arc; you’re meant to see evolution over time — spiritual, technological, familial. The repetition of certain themes across generations (connection vs. isolation, faith vs. efficiency, autonomy vs. optimization) is deliberate. It builds a cumulative weight rather than a single crescendo.

What makes the format work is the throughline of family. Even when the timeline jumps or the setting shifts from Earth to orbit to distant systems, you feel the continuity. The book reads like an archive passed down through centuries, asking whether progress always equals improvement. It’s ambitious in scope — far bigger than just one storyline — and that ambition is both its strength and its defining characteristic. If you go in expecting one protagonist and one conflict, you might feel untethered. But if you lean into the anthology-style structure, the mosaic effect becomes the point.

This collection is less about the end of the world and more about the slow rewriting of what it means to be human.

Summary:

Overall, I found this book to be a reflective, generational sci-fi that explores what we lose when everything becomes connected. Instead of flashy dystopia, this book offers quiet, unsettling plausibility — smart homes that optimize away autonomy, neural networks that gently suppress prayer, and families wrestling with what shapes identity across centuries. It’s thoughtful, faith-tinged, and morally gray in the best way. If you like speculative fiction that prioritizes emotional and philosophical depth over action, this one lingers. Happy reading!

Check out My Family and the End of Everything here!