INTRODUCTION:

Set against a story shaped by loss, longing, and unexpected possibility, One Alpen Day by Michele Davenport-Dutton centers on two people whose lives intersect at a moment when both are quietly hoping for something more than what they have known so far.

Angela Sutton has returned to the place she once called home after a series of personal losses leaves her rethinking everything she imagined for her future. Newly divorced and grieving multiple pregnancy losses, she begins helping her aunt run the family bakery, settling into a slower life shaped by routine and reflection. Her days take an unexpected turn when Mason Glade, a well-known Hollywood actor, walks into the bakery.

Mason arrives carrying his own burdens: a strained marriage to his estranged wife, Camila, whose struggles with alcoholism have spilled into the public eye, and a fierce desire to protect his two young children from the fallout. With Camila entering rehab, Mason takes his children and their nanny far from familiar pressures, hoping distance will offer clarity. As Angela grows closer to Mason and his children, questions emerge about timing, trust, and whether love can take root amid unresolved ties and uncertain futures.

EXCERPT:

Angela moved back to Grainau last year after Uncle Karl died from a massive heart attack at the age of seventy-six, leaving Aunt Terese to tend to their forty-year-old bakery alone. Around the same time, Angela had gone through a bitter divorce from her husband, Nick Sutton Jr. after three years of marriage. He had carried on his father’s legacy as a business mogul in L.A. Nick Jr. was in the Garmisch/Grainau area for business and it was there he met Angela at the bakery four years ago. He had swept her off her feet and dragged her to L.A where they were married a few short months later.

The Alpen Bakery, as named by Aunt Terese and Uncle Karl, carried an assortment of breads, rolls, sheet cakes and pastries. Bread is to Germans what cheese is to the French. There are more than four hundred types of bread in Germany. And, a good bakery such as Angela’s aunt and uncle’s, stocked at least ten to twenty kinds of breads, ten kinds of rolls and an assorted variety of sheet cakes and various pastries, including Aunt Terese’s delectable Apple Strudel. Plus, it was said by locals that they made the best cappuccino in town. 

Angela was cleaning and dusting all the pictures and paintings displayed in the bakery, over the empty tables when she heard Aunt Terese yell.

“Oh, dear! Somebody left their wallet on the counter!” She looked inside to see if she could find identification. She peered sideways at Angela and batted her eyelashes. “Mason Glade,” she said. Angela’s stomach turned in knots. Just hearing his name made her break out in goosebumps. 

“He’ll be back soon enough,” and with that, Aunt Terese closed the wallet. “He won’t get far without his wallet,” she quipped enthusiastically.

Angela went back to spritzing glass cleaner on the glass covering the Neuschwanstein picture which had smudges all over from people, mainly kids, touching it. It’s King Ludwig’s most beautiful and prized castle. The rest of the walls displayed photos of Garmisch-Partenkirchen and the ski jump, where the 1936 Winter Olympics were held. Both Aunt Terese and Uncle Karl’s parents attended, as it was a huge event. Uncle Karl was just a baby at the time. Next to the Olympic pictures were framed news articles and interviews from that event. 

After she dusted the painting of the Zugspitze, Germany’s tallest and most glorious mountain, which has her town of Grainau at its base, she went back into the kitchen and washed her hands. 

Aunt Terese saw Mason walking outside the front window and quickly shouted, “There he is, Angela!” 

Mason opened the door and walked up to the counter. “Hello, excuse me, but I believe I left my wallet here, or I’m really hoping it’s here.” Aunt Terese picked it up from behind the counter and handed it to him. Mason was grateful he didn’t lose it. “Oh, you don’t know how scared I was, thinking I had lost it. Thank you so much,” he said, a nervous relief in his tone. At that moment, Angela walked out from the back and Mason said, “Wait, aren’t you Angela?” He pointed over to the rear corner where he remembered seeing her choking. 

Angela’s insides did a cartwheel. She couldn’t believe he remembered her name from when Aunt Terese shouted it earlier, asking if she was okay. 

Angela cleared her throat. “Yes, Hi, I’m Angela.” She reached out her hand and Mason shook it. 

“Hello Angela. It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Mason, by the way. You work here?” 

Her hands were clammy and sweaty from her nerves. “Yes, this is my Aunt Terese and Uncle Karl’s bakery. They’ve owned it for forty years now.”  

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Michele Davenport-Dutton has loved reading since childhood and was once the top reader at her Montessori school in Garmisch, Germany. A lifelong fan of heartfelt love stories with happy endings, she finally brought her own story to the page with this debut novel. Michele earned her bachelor’s degree in Business Management from CSUB before putting her career on hold to raise her family, spending nearly 30 years as a stay-at-home mom. Now fulfilling a long-held dream of becoming an author, she lives in Shafter, California, with her husband, Chris. Together they have eight adult children and seven grandchildren, with hopes for many more. Visit Michele on Instagram.

Amazon: https://amzn.to/460BAhC

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/206186582-one-alpen-day

GUEST POST:

A Memory of Opa Max and Me

It was a cool, crisp spring morning in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany, in 1974. I was a cheerful five-year-old girl, holding my Opa’s hand and skipping along the sidewalk to keep up with his quick pace. We were hurrying to the station to watch the trains come and go, one of Opa’s favorite hobbies.

The recent rain left a shiny gloss over the cobblestone road, making the stones look like individual turtles hiding in their shells. As the stores prepared to open, I looked up at the balconies where many shop owners lived. High above, I saw an elderly woman with gray hair and a red scarf. With a large green watering can in her wrinkled hand, she quenched the thirst of a window box filled with vibrant red, white, and pink geraniums.

When we arrived at the station, Opa began singing the song he taught me: “Eisenbahn, Lokomotive, wer kein Geld hat, darf net mit.” Translated, it means, “Steel train, locomotive, whoever has no money cannot come along.” While the German lyrics rhyme, I always found the sentiment a bit harsh and felt pity for those who couldn’t afford a ride.

As Opa enjoyed a cigarette, I practiced flips on the nearby bars. Whenever he saw me, he would yell, “Ach Gott, Mimi! Du fällst runter!”—”Oh God, Mimi, you will fall down!” I would study him like a Monet or Van Gogh painting. He was a short, stout, yet well-dressed man who wore his grey feather hat with pride. His face was perfectly round, like a chef’s potato dumpling, and his large, steel blue-grey eyes always looked peaceful.

Opa wore Old Spice aftershave, and to this day, that scent instantly brings back his memory. Our walks to the train station were always an adventure, and they will forever be embedded in my heart.

My story takes place in the beautiful, scenic Garmisch/Grainau area of Germany and although the love story is fictitious, the setting holds fond memories for me as I lived in Garmisch as a little girl. Garmisch was my home, a special place with my loving family. I often reflect on the times walking to the train station with my Opa Max and below is a special memory from that time. I had to include Opa’s life events in my novel and share it with the world. 

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS:

What’s a detail, theme, or clue in your book that most readers might miss on the first read—but you secretly hope someone notices?
Mason’s estranged wife always wears gold- glittered costumes for her rodeo shows. Angela, the protagonist, has Emerald green eyes. The last line of the book has Mason thinking, All that glitters isn’t gold. All that glitters is Emerald green.

When did this story or idea “click” into place for you—was there a single moment you knew you had to write it?
My sons went on a weekend Boy Scout camping trip with their dad. He took our five-year-old daughter with them. I was all alone at home (a rare treat) and thought, “I want to write a book.” I grabbed my notebook and a pen and the characters just came to me. The setting unfolded and yet it took years in the making of writing this novel, having been a stay-at-home mom was my top priority. I’m happy to see my little novel finally come into fruition.

Which character or real-life person surprised you the most while writing this book, and why?
Opa, my grandpa. Although he passed on many years ago, at the ripe old age of 93, every time I read the last two chapters of my book pertaining to him, I cry. No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader, right?

If your book had a soundtrack, what three songs would be on it and what scenes or moments would they pair with?
“Everything that Glitters is Not Gold,” (sung by Mason, while he’s strumming his guitar in the alps. That song hits me hard)
“Edelweiss” and “The Sound of Music,” because of the majestic alps in the background.

What’s one belief, question, or emotional truth you hope readers carry with them long after they finish your book?
Finding healing from loss. Love and connection help people grow. Love is better the second time around.
If your protagonist (or the central figure in your nonfiction) could give the reader one piece of advice, what would it be?
Love triumphs over fear. Love conquers all.

What real-world place, object, or memory helped shape a key element in your book?
The setting in the Garmisch/Grainau is where I lived as a young girl. My Opa would hold my hand as I skipped to the train station where we’d watch the trains coming and going.

What’s something you had to research, learn, or experience to write this book that genuinely shocked you?
Researching miscarriages and how it affects women deeply, the trauma they endure.

If your book were invited to join a shelf with two other titles, which ones would make you happiest—and what would that shelf say about your story?
Jane Porter’s Christmas at Copper Mountain and Julie Olivia’s If it Makes You Happy. The shelf would say “Come over, stay a while. Let me take you on an armchair adventure you won’t want to miss.”

INTRODUCTION:

Some days unfold exactly as planned, while others take an unexpected turn. Katie’s Really Bad Day: A Story About Test Anxiety by Kathleen Jeffrey, illustrated by Susan Kilmartin, explores what happens when internal pressure overwhelms a child who usually feels prepared.

Katie enjoys learning and usually approaches her day with enthusiasm, but test days stir up uncomfortable feelings she struggles to control. During a spelling test, her anxiety becomes overwhelming, making it hard to think clearly or stay focused. In a moment of panic, Katie reacts in a way that draws attention and leaves her feeling embarrassed.

With thoughtful guidance, Katie begins to learn why her body reacts the way it does under stress. She is introduced to calming strategies that help her slow down and refocus. As she practices these tools, Katie gains confidence in her ability to manage anxious moments. The story gently shows how understanding and practical techniques can transform a stressful situation into a learning experience.

MY REVIEW:

I was offered the chance to review Katie’s Really Bad Day by Kathleen Jeffrey, a children’s book. I decided I would because many of my friends and followers have young grandchildren. I kind of wished this kind of book was available when I was a young child.

Kathleen Jeffrey has written an important book for parents and children. She has a wonderful Illustrator which takes this book up another notch. She is Susan Kilmartin. I especially enjoyed her beautiful illustrations. 

I highly recommend Katie’s Really Bad Day written by Kathleen Jeffrey and Illustrated by Susan Kilmartin. In my opinion, this book can be a great learning tool to teach coping skills and other children how to be concerned and help their friends.

Please remember to support the authors you read by leaving a review. Even a few words help.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from the author. The opinions I have expressed are my own and I was not required to write a review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Kathleen Jeffrey is an author of children’s picture books, fulfilling her mission to create stories that shine with love, light, spirit, truth, and joy—helping children navigate life’s challenges, explore big emotions, and grow with courage, kindness, and wonder. 

Visit Kathleen at her website and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

Amazon: https://bit.ly/4qDMemF

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/210447560-katie-s-really-bad-day

GUEST POST:

My inspiration for writing this book…

I was an anxious child in school. Eventually this anxiety developed into test anxiety that stayed with me through college. It didn’t matter if I knew the answers, the panic still set in!

Many children experience anxiety in school for various reasons. In researching for this book, it was wonderful to learn of the many resources and tools available today for teachers to help their anxious students. Some students are very good at concealing their test anxiety feelings and may suffer needlessly while also thinking they are the only ones. In addition, test anxiety can lead to a pattern of underachievement.

I hope Katie’s story will help children identify their own anxious feelings, know that they are not alone and encourage them to tell their teachers and caregivers what is going on before their anxiety leads to “A Really Bad Day!”

Who and what ultimately inspired you to become a writer?

About 23 years ago, after my dad passed away, I had a divine inspiration to write a spiritual children’s picture book. I started planning, thinking, praying on it, but the timing was never right to dig in and get it done. Life was busy, my children were young, and I worked full time. 

Eventually I left my 28-year media sales career and ended up working in the bookstore at Glastonbury Abby, a benedictine monastery. Researching and buying books for the store was fun, inspirational and kept my book idea alive. Finally, I wrote a very long manuscript. Through working with critique groups, I concluded it was really two books.  Out of that came Katie’s Really Bad Day. The next book is also about Katie and relates to my original inspiration for a spiritual picture book. 

Between journaling for the past 23 years, joining the Society of Children’s Books Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) to learn how to write a picture book, and writing poetry during covid, I was finally ready to leave my twelve-year bookstore adventure and get on with writing and getting the book published!

QUESTIONS &ANSWERS:

What’s a detail, theme, or clue in your book that most readers might miss on the first read—but you secretly hope someone notices?
Empathetic, concerned faces of Katie’s teacher, Mom & Dad, and her classmates when Katie is upset. No one is making fun of her.

When did this story or idea “click” into place for you—was there a single moment you knew you had to write it?
During critique group sessions with a long manuscript, I discovered I actually had two books to write. The first became Katie’s Really Bad Day: A Story About Test Anxiety, to identify Katie’s character with school & test anxiety, which is based on my personal story I had to tell for authenticity. The second book will feature Katie once again and will be illustrated sometime this year.

Which character or real-life person surprised you the most while writing this book, and why?
Katie’s sidekick Finn turned out to be quite the entertaining cut up as well a very concerned and empathetic friend.

If your book had a soundtrack, what three songs would be on it and what scenes or moments would they pair with?
“Inside Out” by Michael Giacchino, (From joyful school yard to Katie’s sudden test anxiety.)
“When I Breathe” by Stephanie Leavell (Learning belly breathing with Miss Julie and later with the class.)“When I’m Nervous” (A song for kids about overcoming anxiety.)
Overall story wrap up. Would play at the end of the book.

What’s one belief, question, or emotional truth you hope readers carry with them long after they finish your book?
That many students are anxious in school or before tests so you are not the only one. Because you are anxious before a test does not mean you are not smart or capable.

Tell us about a moment during the writing process when the story (or message) took an unexpected turn.
I was determined to have Mom take Katie into school the day she did not want to go because that was my personal experience. Through teacher critique partner advice and their experiences with children in today’s classrooms, I realized Katie would have to take the bus, work through it and tell Miss Julie what was going on.

If your protagonist (or the central figure in your nonfiction) could give the reader one piece of advice, what would it be?
Lots of kids get anxious before tests! Let your teacher and caregivers know when you are anxious. There are always solutions!

What real-world place, object, or memory helped shape a key element in your book?
My second grade elementary classroom and getting caught having scratched on my varnished desk was a deep rooted memory. A boy noticed it and yelled out to the teacher. She was very angry and scolded me in front of the class. I was so embarrassed I refused to go to school the next day so my mom had to bring me in and talk to the teacher.

What’s something you had to research, learn, or experience to write this book that genuinely shocked you?
Through my research on childhood, school and test anxiety, I learned test anxiety can start as early as second through fourth grade and may lead to underachievement. Between this research, writing my bio, interviewing my mom, older sister, adult neighbor and childhood classmates, I was able to make connections. The seeds of my overall school anxiety started with significant separation anxiety my first three weeks of kindergarten. By fourth grade my overall school anxiety did lead to test anxiety and eventually underachievement. Anxiety triggers fear and panic which makes it hard to concentrate when learning new concepts or taking notes while trying to keep up with the teacher or actually taking a test.

If your book were invited to join a shelf with three other titles, which ones would make you happiest—and what would that shelf say about your story?
Wilma Jean The Worry Machine by Julia Cooke (Classic, Funny, Popular)

The Big Feelings Book for Children: Mindfulness Moments to Manage Anger, Excitement, Anxiety, and Sadness by Sharon Selby MA (Respectable, Useful, Popular)

Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst & Ray Cruz Total Classic! (Happiest)

INTRODUCTION:

David Nichols arrives in Alaska grounded in logic, not instinct. In The Radical Radiance of the Fishing Fly, Lewis K. Schrager places a methodical mind into an unforgiving environment that exposes emotional truths long kept in check.

When rational certainty collides with emotional unpredictability, transformation becomes unavoidable. David Nichols’ structured life begins to shift after his brother Larry faces cancer. During treatment, Larry finds endurance through the creation of fishing flies and imagined waters, sustaining himself through uncertainty.

After recovery, Larry invites David on a fishing journey that tests both their relationship and David’s reliance on control. Immersed in a group driven by shared passion, David struggles to connect as unresolved conflicts between the brothers surface. He is drawn to Kathy Sands, another member of the group whose personal grief mirrors the emotional weight of the journey.

As the experience deepens, a covert nighttime expedition fueled by revenge forces David to confront the limits of reason, reshaping his understanding of loyalty, fear, and emotional restraint.

EXCERPT:

From Chapter One

I pulled out of the underground garage onto Wisconsin Avenue, then down the ramp heading east on the Washington Beltway. Rays of the rising sun glowed orange in a far-off bank of clouds. Gray banks of night fog, exhaled from dying creeks and streams entrapped within the urban sprawl, drifted over the roadway bridges before dissipating as rising haze over the slim remains of vestigial marshland. I turned onto I-95 North, speeding past countless semis parked close along the shoulders of the highway, red running lights blinking crazy in the half-light. I imagined the truckers awakening in their dark, coffin-like spaces, yawning and stretching and rubbing their eyes as they plan for another day bringing who-knows-what to who-knows-where.

Wondering where I was going.

Wondering why.

In fact, I knew. My destination on that steamy August morning was the Philadelphia airport, a rendezvous with my older brother Larry. In less than three hours I would be meeting him there. We would board our plane to Seattle, and then another to Anchorage, and then a third and a fourth, our destination somewhere in the Alaskan wilderness for a week of fly fishing.

The first rays of the freshly risen sun flared above the distant cloudbank. I squinted against the blinding glare, lowered my sun visor, fumbled with my sunglasses, and slipped them on.
This was a bad idea.

I was nervous about spending this much time with Larry. Growing up, he was brash and loud, determined to be the center of attention. I was quiet, more than happy to disappear into the background, unnoticed and undisturbed. This worked out fine when we were apart. On the few occasions where we found ourselves thrown together, like at an occasional high school party, he’d notice my subtle signals of embarrassment at his behavior and would talk more loudly, act more wildly, dance more crazily, until I shrunk away into a kind of nothingness and headed home on my own. I could never even think of taking him on physically when he pushed me past my breaking point as he was taller and far stronger than I, and a champion wrestler as well.

I tried to convince myself that this fishing trip would work out fine. So much had changed since our high school days. Larry had become a successful businessman, having grown Leather and More, our father’s store in South Philly to three times its original size. He’d expanded the business, establishing a second store in the Mall at Short Hills, a prime shopping destination in the tony New Jersey suburbs just west of New York City. He’d married Tina Simons, a wonderful woman who gave him a couple of lovely daughters. He’d mellowed.

Besides, I realized that all this cogitation was irrelevant. Mellowed or not, I never would have agreed to go on this trip if not for Larry’s cancer

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Lewis K. Schrager is an author and playwright whose short fiction has twice been honored in the F. Scott Fitzgerald Literary Contest and has appeared in numerous literary journals, including South Carolina Review, Cottonwood, and Bryant Literary Review. His plays have been produced in Baltimore and St. Paul, and The Radical Radiance of the Fishing Fly is his first published novel. A graduate of Johns Hopkins University and the Vanderbilt University School of Medicine, Schrager has also spent much of his professional career in global health, serving as an HIV/AIDS researcher at the National Institutes of Health and as a vaccine developer focused on tuberculosis prevention. Visit Lewis at his website.

Amazon: https://bit.ly/3YJofq0

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/239710220-the-radical-radiance-of-the-fishing-fly

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS

What’s a detail, theme, or clue in your book that most readers might miss on the first read—but you secretly hope someone notices?
The importance of appreciating the humanity in “others”. Our society is currently terribly divided. The general discourse, running from casual posts on social media sites to the language of our country’s leaders, too often is overtly, aggressively, dehumanizing – and seems to be getting worse each day. The consequences can be grave, leading to bigotry, violence, and even killings. This wasn’t the case when I wrote the book, (I first drafted this in ~2005). The initial title of the book was The Secret River. When I discovered that there was a Booker Prize finalist book with this name, I decided to change the title. The current title unexpectedly brought to my mind a focus on how something like a work of art (in this case, expertly hand-tied fishing flies) that could be appreciated by persons across economic, educational, and socio-political backgrounds could serve to serve to bridge societal schisms and help us appreciate others as fully “human,” with many of the same desires, and fears, as we hold ourselves.

When did this story or idea “click” into place for you—was there a single moment you knew you had to write it?
Great question – yes, there was such a moment. While this story is mostly fictional, the foundation is based in reality (as is true for most realistic, literary fiction, I think). My younger brother developed Hodgkin’s disease and was cured by a bone marrow transplantation. He was a passionate fisherman and, like the Larry character, tied beautiful flies while suffering through his transplantation, promising himself a trip to Alaska if he survived. He did survive, and invited me to go along, which I did, reluctantly. The “click” you refer to has to do with the circumstances surrounding the loss of his flies, and their subsequent recovery. This part of the book – how the flies were left behind in the Anchorage airport, how my brother went kind of crazy when he learned about this after we arrived in our distant village, how I came up with the story of one of the fishermen having a heart attack and needing the medicines left behind in his bag and threatened the airline with this, resulting in the delivery of his bag with his flies, and the bags of the other fishermen as well – actually happened. This was the “click.” The rest, particularly any of the story involving Kathy and Angie (there were no women on our trip) I mostly made up.

Which character or real-life person surprised you the most while writing this book, and why?
This is a tough one. Many of the characters I named above progressed, and changed, along different arcs. In terms of who “surprised me” the most…perhaps Kathy. She was the empath; she sensed David’s inner turmoil and reached out to him, even though he was a stranger to her. Although she projected a personality of tolerance and accommodation, she also had a no-bullshit side of her. This came through early, when she had the guts to approach the hunters and tell them to put out their cigars in the hotel restaurant. This also came through when she decided to join Rick Garret, Zack, Butch, and Larry on their naked, midnight attack on the hunters’ camp – and demanded that David join her in this, saying that “sometimes revenge is therapeutic.” I really liked Kathy.

If your book had a soundtrack, what three songs would be on it and what scenes or moments would they pair with?
Wow. I’m going to show my age here. 
1. Muddy Waters – Rollin’ Stone (Catfish Blues) – pp. 68-69, when David and Kathy return to the hotel dining room and find all the fishermen sitting around, gloomy at the prospect of having to go on the trip without their equipment. 
2. The Doors – Riders on the Storm – pp.201-203 – When the raiding party crosses the river in the moonlight to attack the hunters’ camp.
3. Crosby, Stills, and Nash – Wasted on the Way – p.212-213 – As they ride the last stretch of river, when everyone fishes in the warm sunshine. (I’d like to talk about more…)

What’s one belief, question, or emotional truth you hope readers carry with them long after they finish your book?
That “people are people” – fundamentally with the same set of desires and concerns (broadly written) – living, loving, dying. It’s easy to forget this and be distracted by various influences to view others as threatening and different. It’s more difficult to appreciate the similarities in others – with the most fundamental one being their existence as a human being. Sometimes, something as simple as appreciation for radically radiant fishing flies can serve as a reminder.

Tell us about a moment during the writing process when the story (or message) took an unexpected turn.
In an earlier draft, the scene on pp. 122-123, when David discovers Kathy bathing in the river and declines her invitation to join, had a different outcome. In the earlier draft, Kathy strode out of the water feeling angry, embarrassed, and hurt. It took about 40 pages of additional story for them to overcome this. Later, as I got to “know Kathy better,” I realized that this really wasn’t who Kathy was. I revised this and had her emerge from the river, nonplussed, and place a cold kiss on David’s forehead, before drying herself and getting dressed. This was the true Kathy…and also allowed me to cut 40 pages from the novel!

If your protagonist (or the central figure in your nonfiction) could give the reader one piece of advice, what would it be?
Avoid making character assumptions of people based on social, economic, educational, and cultural differences; there may be more similarities between you and “the other” than you may realize.

What real-world place, object, or memory helped shape a key element in your book?
The key place was the Alaskan wilderness, particularly the river that my brother and I traveled on and the little village in which we stayed (I call it Nalunaq; the actual village was Aniak) during the trip upon which this fictional story is based. I should add that the second real place is NYC in the wake of the 9/11 attack.

What’s something you had to research, learn, or experience to write this book that genuinely shocked you?
Not a whole lot “shocks” me – but I guess I’d say the intensity of the fly fishing subculture. The guys who were on the trip took fly fishing VERY seriously – sometimes comically so (to an outsider, like myself). As an example, the scene on pp. 143-149, fishing in a driving cold rain at the “Moan and Groan Hole”, actually happened. Everything was real, up to the point where Russ slipped into the river. (I still get the chills thinking about that day.)

If your book were invited to join a shelf with three other titles, which ones would make you happiest—and what would that shelf say about your story?
It’s going to be hard to answer this without sounding grandiose. Please cut me some slack here. 
1. In Our Time (Ernest Hemingway);
2. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje);
3. The Things they Carried (Tim O’Brien).
Including these novels on the shelf (and I was pained to exclude books by Graham Green and Reynolds Price) is that writing an engaging, page-turning story, and writing a book that has a kind of rhythmic resonance to it, are not necessarily mutually exclusive. I’ve read compelling stories that “sound” like a stone knocking on a rotted log – these can do well in the marketplace, but I don’t enjoy reading them. Similarly, “writer-first” stories, which are all about the writing with no compelling narrative (and, sometimes, no narrative at all) also are not interesting for me to read; they seem pretentious and, if I’m being honest, arrogant. I have found the books I’ve listed extraordinarily beautiful to read, while they also pull me along in their engaging, powerful stories. I can’t say I’ve achieved this in Radical Radiance…but I’ve tried as best I could.

INTRODUCTION:

The Last Adam by Ron Echols presents a story where faith, danger, and responsibility begin to collide. As pressure builds, the narrative traces how unseen forces influence decisions and place ordinary people at the center of extraordinary consequences.

Across locations stretching from urban streets to ancient contested ground, a hidden war begins to surface. Mary Levitt’s pregnancy becomes the catalyst for escalating threats, violent encounters, and visions that signal her child’s role in a prophecy long feared.

Joseph Riesman’s involvement in a major development project draws him into political maneuvering and ancient forces operating beneath visible power structures. What appears practical soon becomes spiritual confrontation.

The sacrifice of the archangel Raphael reveals the depth of the conflict now in motion—angels, fallen angels, and human agents maneuver to control or destroy what Mary’s child represents. Watched and hunted at every turn, Mary and Joseph face betrayal and spiritual warfare as they struggle to protect a life destined to alter the course of humanity.

EXCERPT:

Prologue

Location: The Lunar Surface, Tranquility Base, southwestern corner of the Sea of Tranquility.

The moon hung motionless, like a dead thing in the void of space. Its pockmarked exterior reflecting the sun’s merciless glare and millennia of asteroids pummeling its surface. In that airless waste where humans had once taken a small step, the lunar dust lay since undisturbed, marked only by boot prints and machinery left behind. Piercing through the silence of the void, a voice called out. 

“Raphael!”

A brilliant white light erupted into existence, hovering above the moon’s surface like a tear in the fabric of space itself. The light intensified until it seemed to bend space around it, taking form. A figure of a man emerged. Behind him, the first suggestion of wings. Translucent, but appearing stronger than steel, they folded against his armor etched with ancient angelic symbols that seemed to move when viewed directly. Dark hair, wild and untamed accentuated his sapphire eyes and caressed his polished, glass-like skin.

The being that called itself Gabriel stood motionless on the lunar surface, its feet leaving no prints in the ancient dust. The face that poets had tried and failed to capture for millennia turned slowly, searching.

“Raphael?”

The name rippled out without sound, more like a thought given form in the vacuum. Gabriel’s wings stirred restlessly, creating eddies in the dust that danced like spirits in the harsh light.

“Here, Gabriel,” reverberated a voice, bright but commanding, from the shadowed surface. Another angel sat casually reclined within the lunar rover, abandoned by the humans who briefly touched the face of Heaven before retreating to their warm blue marble decades ago. His eyes were fixated upon the Earth, suspended in the cosmic darkness. Raphael mirrored Gabriel, but adorned in silver armor with fiery ginger hair framing his serene face.

“I’ve been searching for you,” Gabriel said, moving closer. In the moon’s one-sixth gravity, each step seemed to take too long, as if time itself was stretching.

“Observing,” Raphael replied simply, still watching Earth.

“Observing…anyone in particular?” Gabriel asked, also redirecting his gaze toward Earth. From this distance, cities glowed like constellations, tiny lights poking through the darkness that surrounded them.

Maintaining his stare, Raphael revealed what he had been witnessing, his voice heavy from countless years of disappointment. “There in Houston, a man, after a night of heavy drinking, returned home to engage in an argument with his wife, he killed her in a drunken fit of jealousy. Across the sea in Madrid, Spain, a young prostitute on the cusp of adulthood prepares to inject herself with an HIV-contaminated needle provided by a friend. There, in Manila, a corrupt politician embezzles funds meant for the poor, channeling them to fuel his business ventures. Wherever I look, human virtue becomes more scarce.”

Raphael shifted his gaze to Gabriel, his glowing eyes piercing the darkness. “Who is worthy down there? Even among ourselves, evil found a way to take root. We cast him down to Earth, and he has only brought misery and death upon everyone there. Since the dawn of humanity, the stain of evil has tainted them all. They have no hope.”

Gabriel hung his head in solemn contemplation of Raphael’s declaration. They both knew who “he” was. Neither needed to speak the name that had once been brightest among them.

“You have manifested yourself on the human plane of reality. What if you’re spotted?” Gabriel snapped, briefly changing the subject.

A small chuckle escaped Raphael’s lips. “I am on the MOON, Gabriel, not Times Square New York. Besides, you’re doing it too. Did you even hear anything I said?”

“We do not materialize on this plane without purpose,” Gabriel scolded. “And yes, I heard you. I came to you because I have news.”

“What news?” Raphael asked.

“Your complaining is timely for once,” Gabriel chided. 

He stepped closer to the rover, standing beside Raphael. “You are correct; there is no one on Earth capable of saving them. However, he has devised a plan.”

Raphael peered up at Gabriel, rising from his reclined posture. “What plan?”

Gabriel leaned in, his voice whispering the secret. “He will go directly to them. He will send a part of himself to help them.”

“So, the time for final battle has come? He will lead us against the adversary?” Raphael asked, energy crackling around his form at the thought.

“No, this is not Armageddon,” Gabriel corrected. “This is the beginning. He will walk the Earth himself, using his own words, his truth, will be carried directly to them.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “That’s too much. They will panic at the sight,” he warned.

“As usual, you are not understanding. He will be born there.” Gabriel explained.

“What? Why?” Raphael’s bewilderment unusual for someone who existed since the earth was formed. “Become a human child? What could that possibly accomplish?”

Amused by the confusion etched on Raphael’s face, Gabriel continued, “He will birth himself into their world, experience their joys and their sorrows, breathe their air, and shed human tears. He will BE human. He says only then can he deliver what is necessary for their redemption. It is a necessary madness.”

“Incredible,” Raphael murmured, the word carrying both wonder and doubt. His gaze returned to Earth, that fragile sphere that held such consequence in the cosmic order. Resting his foot upon the rover’s steering wheel, he reclined once more, assuming his former pose, his mind wrestling with what he had just heard.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Ron Echols is an ordained minister of the Gospel, an award-winning business executive, and a four-time Telly Award–winning producer. With The Last Adam: Resurrection Day, he makes his debut as a novelist, bringing a cinematic sensibility and spiritual depth to contemporary Christian fiction. A storyteller at heart, Echols blends suspense, gritty realism, and biblical prophecy to create modern retellings that explore enduring themes of faith, power, sacrifice, and redemption. Drawing from his background in ministry, media, and leadership, his writing places ancient truths into present-day settings where spiritual warfare unfolds alongside deeply human struggles. He lives in Texas, where he balances business ownership, community service, family, and writing stories designed to engage the imagination while stirring the soul. Visit Ron at his website and on TikTok.

Amazon: http://bit.ly/49ZY4lQ

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/244392186-the-last-adam

GUEST POST:

I love supernatural stories.

Angels. Demons. Prophecy. Chosen ones.

But most stories treat divine intervention like clarity. I wanted to treat it like a problem.

Because if something undeniably supernatural appeared today, on camera, in real time, it wouldn’t unite people. It would fracture them. Belief wouldn’t simplify anything. It would raise the stakes.

That’s why I wrote my story as a thriller first.

Fast chapters.

Escalating consequences.

Characters forced to act before they understand what they’re dealing with.

I wanted it to read like a movie in your head. The kind where you tell yourself, one more chapter, and suddenly it’s way too late. Where the supernatural isn’t there to comfort you, it’s there to push the story forward and keep you unsettled.

Readers are smart. You don’t want sermons. You want tension. You want vibes. You want stakes that feel personal.

So this isn’t a book that tries to explain God’s plan.

It’s a book that asks:

What would it cost if God actually showed up again?

And then it lets the story run with the consequences.

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS

What sets your book apart from others in your genre?

The Last Adam doesn’t treat faith as an abstract.  It treats it as a lived, psychological struggle. Most supernatural thrillers either lean heavily into spectacle or into theology. This story lives in the tension between doubt and belief, power and responsibility, heaven and human consequence. The divine is present but never comfortable. Angels don’t arrive to reassure; they arrive to disrupt. The story asks what faith costs when it stops being symbolic and becomes real.

What’s your favorite compliment you’ve received as a writer?

A reader told me they forgot they were reading a faith-adjacent story and just tore through it as a thriller. They said, “I came for the supernatural angle and stayed because I couldn’t stop turning pages.” That’s exactly what I hoped for.

Why did you choose this setting/topic?

I wanted to place an ancient, world-altering story inside a modern America. We live in a time of deep skepticism, fractured authority, and spiritual exhaustion. That felt like the most honest place to ask what would actually happen if something undeniably divine showed up again, not in a church, but in a society that doesn’t believe in that anymore.

Which author(s) most inspired you?

Frank Peretti for showing me that faith-based stories could carry real tension and darkness. C.S. Lewis for his moral clarity and spiritual imagination. And Stephen King for his understanding of fear, character, and how the supernatural feels when it collides with ordinary lives.

Which 3 books would you bring to a desert island?

The Bible, because it’s not just one book, it’s an entire library, and I’d never stop finding something new in it. The Count of Monte Cristo, because if I’m stranded, I want a story I can live inside for a long time. And a desert survival manual, because faith and literature are important, but I’d still like to get off the island.

INTRODUCTION:

History often reveals itself through personal moments. In America, Mike Bond follows young lives shaped by upheaval as a generation comes of age during a decade that redefined the nation’s future.

Against a backdrop of cultural rebellion and political unrest, four young people search for meaning and direction. Troy, orphaned and newly adopted, finds hope through family and dreams of flight. Tara discovers the power of her voice as she moves toward rock ’n’ roll stardom. Mick, Troy’s brother, balances athletic success with rebellion and growing concern over war. Daisy seeks purpose through equality, service, and the study of the human mind, committing herself to activism and the Peace Corps. Together, their stories capture the victories, losses, and lasting questions left behind by a generation shaped by transformation.

EXCERPT:

FREEDOM

THE BOY STARED through the cyclone fence at the dirt road, golden meadow and forested hills beyond. He listened a moment more to the din of other boys playing in the concrete yard behind him, scrambled up the cyclone fence ripping his shirt on the barbed wire top and dashed across the meadow uphill into the cool shadowed forest.

Minutes later he glanced down from the hilltop at the hostile brick walls and barred windows of the orphanage. A black Ford police car with white doors had stopped at the gate, its yellow roof globe flashing. Two priests and a cop were walking along the road, one priest gesturing at the forest.

He imagined them catching him, hitting him, wished he’d never run away, turned uphill through the dark trees then down a wooded valley to a stream. He knelt in the wet moss, his reflection rising toward him – dirty and skinny, tan hair askew – and drank the icy water tasting of rock and mud. So this is what it’s like to drink from a stream.

He followed the valley for a long time till he saw a dirt road ahead through the trees. A big red car was there. Afraid he’d been seen, he pulled back into the trees. From the car’s open windows came voices, a man and woman. If he moved back up the hill they’d surely see him. He’d be taken back to the Boys’ Home, the Fathers would whup him.

A warm breeze stirred the leaves. His heart hammered, his knees shook with fear and fatigue. Soon the car would leave and he could cross the road.

The woman was moaning. Holding his breath he listened. The man must be hurting her. She cried out; the boy glanced round but there was no one who could help.

Shivering with fear, he worried what to do. If the man killed her and he had done nothing to help, it was a terrible sin. But if he tried to help her he’d get sent back to the Boys’ Home. Standing, he tried to see better. The man was pushing the woman down in the back seat, maybe strangling her.

The boy dashed across the road and banged on the car. “You leave her alone Mister!” he yelled, voice shaking, “I’ll call the cops!”

They were naked from the waist down. “Get him out of here!” the woman screamed. The man threw open the back door shouting, “You little shit!” and slapped the boy hard across the head. The boy tumbled into the ditch and scrambled through brambles uphill. The man wasn’t following but the boy kept running, gasping for wind, legs weak with fear that the man would circle somehow and get him. He ran till he could run no more, stumbled, fell, and ran again.

After a while he stopped and bent over panting, watching behind him. He couldn’t stop shivering but wasn’t cold. He tried to talk to himself and his voice trembled. His head spun, his ears whined. If the man wasn’t killing her what was he doing? Why had she said get him out of here? Why were they naked like that?

Confused and terribly lonely, the boy moved on through the forest, jumping in terror at the crash of an animal running away, a flash of tawny fur. Even the Boys’ Home was better than this.

In late afternoon he came to a big place of empty, run-down tarpaper-covered buildings, some of their windows broken, tall grass spiking up from their concrete yards. He felt hungry and afraid, then angry at himself for feeling it. He snuck along one building and looked in a window hoping for something to eat, but there were only empty concrete floors, yellowed newspapers, rusty cans, torn tarpaper, and a broken toilet lying on its side. He slipped through a half-open door and stepped silently from room to room around broken bottles, boards with nails sticking up and chunks of fallen ceiling.

A window shattered overhead and he ducked into a closet, broken glass in his hair, deafened by his pounding heart, hoping whoever it was hadn’t seen him.

Maybe it was a bird hit that window. Stupid bird.

He tiptoed from the closet toward the door. Another window crashed. He ran stumbling over cans and bottles. Someone was shooting at him. At the door he halted, fearing what to do. Blood ran down his cheek onto his shirt. They were going to kill him.

Steps scuffed outside in the concrete courtyard. A kid. The kid picked up a rock and slung it. Glass shattered and the rock hopped across the floor inside.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Mike Bond is the author of nearly a dozen bestselling novels and an ecologist, war and human rights journalist, award-winning poet, and international energy expert. His work spans more than thirty countries across seven continents, often drawn from firsthand experiences in remote, dangerous, and war-torn regions. His novels are praised worldwide for their intricate plots, vivid settings, and explosive pacing. His reporting has covered wars, revolutions, terrorism, and major environmental crises. Learn more at his website.

Amazon: https://amzn.to/4qtsBxK

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57580047-america

INTRODUCTION:

Susie Black has written a series that sounds absolutely delightful. Death By Sample Size is Book 1 of the Holly Swimsuit Mystery series. I haven’t read them yet but, I already have this book in my possession and Susie Black was so generous that she also sent me a book for a giveaway! Check the bottom of this post for the details.

SYNOPSIS:

Everyone wanted her dead…but who actually killed her? The last thing swimwear sales exec Holly Schlivnik expected was to discover ruthless buying office big wig Bunny Frank’s corpse trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey with a bikini stuffed down her throat. When Holly’s colleague is arrested for Bunny’s murder, the wise-cracking, irreverent amateur sleuth jumps into action to find the real killer. Nothing turns out the way Holly thinks it will as she matches wits with a wily murderer hellbent for revenge.

EXCERPT:

Before the first inkling of dawn, I said good morning to the nosy crane I shared my slip with as I hoisted myself over my houseboat’s forward deck. The halyards tinkled a soft sonata on my neighbors’ masts as the leeward wind luffed their sails. Damp fingers of morning fog curled over the dock and gave the briny air a chewy texture as I made my way to the gangplank.    

I entered the parking structure and dropped the top on my sixty-five pink Mustang convertible. I settled into the worn bucket seat and cranked the heater to the blast furnace level. I hit the radio button for the oldies station and jammed the volume loud enough to wake the dead. I crossed Admiralty Way and glugged a fortifying gulp of unleaded commuter mug coffee strong enough to peel two coats of paint off my car.

It’s not like I’m even a morning person. But if you’re from LA, the one thing you can always count on is that you’re gonna be stuck in traffic on the 405 whether you’re driving at three in the morning or three in the afternoon. The reality is either you’re gonna be two hours late or two days early. That’s how it is for us LALA Land commuters. What are ya gonna do? I traversed the Marina Freeway and merged into the heavy traffic already bottlenecked on the northbound 405. I crept along at a turtle’s pace for three miles till I transitioned eastbound onto I-10 and crawled my way downtown.
                                               ****

I finally arrived at the California Apparel Mart minutes before being on the road long enough to become the butt of the old joke. I was a young woman when the day began. My footfalls echoed in the near-empty underground parking garage. I got to the elevator bank and pressed the button. When the elevator doors opened, I had to stop myself short not to step on her. There was Bunny Frank, the buying office bigshot, lying diagonally across the car. Her legs were splayed out, and her back was propped against the corner. Her sightless eyes were wide open, and her arms reached out in a come-to-me baby pose. She was trussed up with shipping tape like a dressed Thanksgiving turkey, ready for the oven with a bikini stuffed in her mouth. A Gotham Swimwear hangtag drooped off her lower lip like a toe tag gone lost. Naturally, I burst out laughing.    

Before you label me incredibly weird or stone-cold, let me say genetics aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. If you’re lucky, you inherit your Aunt Bertha’s sexy long legs or your father’s ability to add a bazillion-dollar order in his head and get the total correct to the last penny. Without even breaking into a sweat, it’s easy to spout at least a million fabulous traits inheritable by the luck of the draw. Did I get those sexy long legs or the ability to add more than two plus two without a calculator? Noooooooooo. Lucky me. I inherited my Nana’s fear of death we overcompensated for it with the nervous habit of laughing. A hysterical reaction? Think Bozo the clown eulogizing your favorite aunt.

I craned my neck like a tortoise and checked around. Then I clamped a fist over my mouth. Cripes, how could I possibly explain my guffaws with Bunny lying there? Disappointment was simultaneously mixed with relief when there was no one else in the parking lot. Where was security when you needed them?

I toed the elevator door open and bent over Bunny. I’d seen enough CSI episodes to know not to touch her. She was stiff as a board, and I attributed the bluish tinge of her skin to the bikini crammed down her throat. I was no doctor, but I didn’t need an MD after my name to make this diagnosis. Bunny Frank was dead as the proverbial doorknob.

This was my first time almost tripping over a corpse, so if there was one, the protocol wasn’t clear. Send Bunny to the lobby? As if. Since the lobby wasn’t an option, I pressed the stop button. Of course, every ten seconds, the darned elevator pinged loudly as though begging me to let it complete its journey.

I was pretty freaked out; there I was, babbling to the body. “I should go for help, but I don’t wanna leave you here alone.” Naturally, Bunny Frank remained mute. She was way beyond giving a crap what I did or didn’t do.

I leaned over and read the name on the hangtag out loud in case she was interested in which brand of bikini she had lodged in her mouth. “Gotham Swimwear, a sample size ten. I’m gonna take a wild guess the style didn’t make it to your retailers, gotta get it on your floor list?” For someone never at a loss for words, Bunny Frank was as mum as a cloistered nun. “With you, the problem is the style was probably a real dog, and it still made the must-buy list.”

My eyes had a mind of their own as they strayed over to Bunny. I’d swear she was staring disdainfully back at me as though, somehow, I’d let her down. As if. Inside my head, Bunny snickered, “Oh, get over yourself.”  And they say God doesn’t have a sense of humor. Ha. I am living proof God has a rather perverted one. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Susie Black – Named Best US Author of the Year by N. N. Lights Book Heaven, award-winning cozy mystery author Susie Black was born in the Big Apple but now calls sunny Southern California home. Like the protagonist in her Holly Swimsuit Mystery Series, Susie is a successful apparel sales executive. Susie began telling stories as soon as she learned to talk. Now she’s telling all the stories from her garment industry experiences in humorous mysteries. 

She reads, writes, and speaks Spanish, albeit with an accent that sounds like Mildred from Michigan went on a Mexican vacation and is trying to fit in with the locals. Since life without pizza and ice cream as her core food groups wouldn’t be worth living, she’s a dedicated walker to keep her girlish figure. A voracious reader, she’s also an avid stamp collector and sailor. Susie lives with a highly intelligent man and has one incredibly brainy but smart-aleck adult son who inexplicably blames his sarcasm on an inherited genetic defect. 

Looking for more? Contact Susie at:

Website: www.authorsusieblack.com

E-mail: mysteries.authorsusieblack@gmail.com

GIVEAWAY:

Susie Black is graciously giving one epub copy of Death By Sample Size. If you would like to sign up for the giveaway of an epub of Death By Sample Size, send an email to me with your email address. I will assign a number to all entries and use a random generator to choose the winner. Good Luck!

INTRODUCTION:

A sense of unease drives Fire Feud by Thomas Roehlk, where professional obligation, family history, and unresolved violence intersect. The story unfolds through methodical revelations rather than sudden answers.

Following the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, a crime was committed that would ripple quietly through generations. More than a century later, its consequences resurface when a skeleton is uncovered at a modern construction site. Attorney Mandy Doucette is assigned to handle the legal ramifications, only to learn that the remains are linked through DNA to her own company and her boyfriend’s family.
Reggie, Mandy’s twin and an FBI forensic pathologist, traces the forensic evidence back to the long-dormant feud between two powerful families. As the sisters investigate, they uncover layers of fraud, betrayal, and concealed violence. Their pursuit of the truth places them in direct conflict with influential figures who are determined to keep the past hidden—no matter the cost.

QUESTIONS &ANSWERS

What sets your book apart from others in your genre?
I consider my genre as thriller, with the sub-genre of legal thriller. I have much respect for women in the corporate law world, and I believe my work shines a light on this type of character in the crowded world of thrillers.

What’s your favorite compliment you’ve received as a writer?
My favorite was from a review I received on my first book, Red Deuce. It was “Red Deuce shows the author’s behind-the-scenes understanding of how corporations work, making it seem all too credible. The plot keeps you guessing until the very end. Just when you think you’ve figured it all out, he throws another curveball that leaves you eagerly flipping pages to uncover the truth.”

Why did you choose this setting/topic?
Choosing Chicago as a setting provides an amazing city with amazing history, and therefore amazing opportunities to build stories. My protagonist is a study in contrasts. She finds herself unable to poke the beast until it reveals its web of intrigue and illegality, and the story of intermingled crime and espionage allows the protagonist to push herself into solving the mystery.

Which author(s) most inspired you?
Michael Connelley, John Sandford and Steig Larsson.

Which three books would you bring to a desert island?
Caleb Carr’s The Alienist, Steig Larsson’s Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, and Erik Larson’s Devil In The White City.

INSPIRING MOMENT

Every now and then a moment surprises me as an author with the gift of a story’s beginning. Recently I visited the local library in my town in New York and found a wall-sized recreation of an 18th-century town map. Realizing what it was, I examined it to find the original farm where my house now sits. In that space was a small regular information tag containing the words “pirate attack 1783.” Having no idea that pirates were operating in Long Island Sound then, I decided I had to research the issue.

Luckily the librarian archivist was able (enthusiastically) to provide me with a 1939 newspaper article explaining that a local 17-year-old lad was murdered by a band of whaleboat pirates. Unfamiliar with the term I dug into local history for the Revolutionary War period and found a treasure trove of information. Whaleboat pirates were a common phenomenon in that era, as were privateers, and pirates were in their waning moments in the so-called Age of Sail. I had been toying for some time with the idea of writing a pirate story, and now I had been dealt my opening hand.

My dive into the rabbit hole of researching the whaleboat pirates revealed to me the world of privateering, the conflict between revolutionaries in colonial America and the loyalists who clung to King George III, and the incredible role played by the seagoing men of that period. Once I understood how nations and citizens interacted in this time period, I was able to fashion a protagonist and a story. He would spring from the end of the Seven Years War (America called it the French and Indian War) and play a central part in the story of the attack against a coastal family. The murder of the teenager would be the decisive conflict in my story and I could wrap it up with the final departure of the British Royal Navy from the then-occupied Long Island. This was at the sunset of the Revolutionary War.

Then I wondered why I should stop there. A second part of the continuing story could be to take my protagonist to the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico and witness the end of the pirate era. That presented me with a promising volume two of my story, ending after the War of 1812.

Then I wondered why I should stop there. Further research taught me that, in the mid 19th-century, piracy continued in the American Great Lakes. I was able to find history that enabled me to fashion a third part of my story with ancestors of my earlier protagonists roaming those lake waters.

From an innocent visit to the library, my inspiration evolved into a three-volume story of pirates and privateers from the Revolutionary War era through to the Civil War era. Now I just have to write it!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Thomas M. Roehlk is a retired corporate attorney from St. Charles, Illinois, whose career spans major international corporations in the defense sector, consumer products, transportation equipment, and financial services. He spent more than 20 years serving as general counsel and chief compliance officer for a public company, bringing deep real-world legal and corporate insight to his fiction. A graduate of the University of Wisconsin and John Marshall Law School, Roehlk also holds a Master in Management degree from Northwestern University. A devoted endurance athlete, he has completed more than 100 marathons and ultramarathons worldwide, as well as ten Ironman triathlons. After 46 years in the Chicago metropolitan area, he and his wife now split their time between Florida and New York. Visit Thomas at his website.

Amazon: https://bit.ly/4rWQP4L

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/243683449-fire-feud

SYNOPSIS:

When Bubby Welter is fifteen, his mother Carrie’s mental breakdown alters the course of their lives. Her illness creates emotional distance, leaving both mother and son isolated in different ways. As Carrie struggles internally, Bubby faces the external consequences of instability.

A failed robbery brings embarrassment, a close friendship teeters, and the realization that trust can be fragile takes hold. Searching for something solid, Bubby turns his attention to the father he never knew.

Take a Look at Me Now is a story about family disruption, emotional inertia, and the uncertain process of understanding who you are when the foundation beneath you begins to shift.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Robert Crane is an American writer who writes literary fiction: short stories, novels, plays and poetry. He looks forward to putting out a novel which takes place in his adopted country of Norway. He wants his readers to be enlightened and moved by the stories. He feels good fiction seeks to expand a person’s perspective and engagement with the world.

REVIEW:

Wow! Don’t you just love it when an author you love writes a book in a new genre for them and knocks it out of the park? Especially when that genre is another of your favorites? Well, let me tell you that Ashley Farley wrote Dark Current Rising, the first book in the Sutherlin Files. It is a Crime Fiction and it was phenomenal! I think she did a fabulous job of creating the story line and the characters. There were a few twists in there that I did not see coming my way. I’m blown away that one of my favorite authors could veer off in another direction and make me love her books all the more.

Lane Sutherlin is a Detective and is headed to her hometown to look for her best friend Addie who has gone missing. Her father is a retired judge in the town and he is not quite himself these days. Lane had avoided telling anyone back home that she was recently divorced. I enjoyed meeting the new characters in this book. Some of them were those you would want as friends and some were part of the dark current that was under the surface of the town. 

In case you haven’t noticed by now or I’m new to you, I like a variety of genres and Crime, Mystery, Suspense and Thrillers are just a few. Ashley Farley writes a lot of Family Drama and Romance. I have to tell you that it was refreshing to see her voice in another genre that I love so much. 

If you are like me and like a variety of books to read, I think you should give this one a try. She certainly didn’t flop at her first try at Crime Fiction! I definitely will be looking forward to the next two books in this trilogy. So, pick up Dark Current Rising by Ashley Farley for your nightstand before the next book comes out. Until next time…Happy Reading!

Don’t forget to support the authors you read by leaving a review. Even a few words help.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from the author. The opinions I have expressed are my own and I was not required to write a review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

SYNOPSIS:

A missing woman. A haunted detective. A town built on secrets.

When Detective Lane Sutherlin returns to Tidewell, Virginia, it isn’t by choice. She’s back in the small waterfront town she once called home to search for her childhood best friend, Addie, who’s vanished without a trace.

But coming home means more than chasing leads. Lane finds her father—the town’s respected former judge—slipping further into dementia. Old wounds with her brother flare, resentments deepen, and the house she grew up in feels less like a refuge and more like a reminder of everything she’s lost.

As Lane digs into Addie’s life, she uncovers more than she bargained for: a toxic marriage, whispered betrayals, and powerful men determined to protect their own. Every clue draws Lane closer to Tidewell’s polished elite—and to the rot lurking beneath their perfect façades. Soon she realizes Addie may not have been the only target.

In Tidewell, the past is never really past—and some secrets refuse to stay buried. Lane must untangle lies, face old enemies, and risk everything to bring the truth to light…even if it means becoming a target herself.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Amazon Charts and USA Today bestselling author

Ashley Farley writes Southern women’s fiction about love, loss, and the quiet courage it takes to start over. Her stories follow everyday women—mothers, daughters, sisters, and friends—as they navigate life’s hardest moments and find their way back to hope.

A South Carolina native, Ashley’s heart still belongs to the Lowcountry, where moss-draped oaks meet salty air and Southern charm runs deep. She now writes from her waterfront home on Virginia’s Northern Neck, where she shares her days with family and two strong-willed Labradors, Emmie and Willa.