Editorial Reviews for Nominees
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 Score: 94/100 (9.4 out of 10)
It's Indiana Jones meets Prometheus! Reliquary of the Dead by David Falk takes place in the 25th century and follows Dr. Pierre Gulet, an archaeologist pulled into an accelerated colonist program and shipped to the exoplanet Gliese 832 c, being told that there is a "problem with the planet." Pierre is brilliant and stubborn. He quickly becomes the colony’s reluctant problem-solver. Strangely enough, Pierre’s specialty is in prophetic utterances carved into Egyptian Middle Kingdom burials. This brings up one of the biggest questions of the book: for what reason is Pierre (of all people) being recruited on this futuristic space mission? What need would a futuristic space society have for someone with this archaic specialty? However, Pierre's background does prove vital when he and medic Alicia Stripes uncover a god-machine, the titular Reliquary, beneath Gliese’s sands. As Arish’s food fails and scatterbugs go missing, rival commander Terry Brandt makes his move and the orbiting MegaAI abandons them, forcing Pierre to weaponize the relic’s toxic breath to save the colony and setting the stage for a larger war featuring primordial gods. One of the most fascinating aspects of this novel is the world-building. You really get a sense of how alien and different the time and setting(s) of this book are. Let's set the stage. In the 2400s, a total of four World Wars have been fought. Each of them, as you might imagine, brought about dramatic change. World War III brought about the banning of nuclear weapons. World War IV banned androids and cybernetic augmentation outright. The Armistice didn’t just end a war, it reset civilization’s ethics and priorities. By Pierre’s day, humanity has planted flags on 48 worlds, with orbital MegaAIs coordinating traffic, research, and scarce resources. Colonists are drafted through accelerated programs with strict social contracts, pair up and try to breed for children ("make a good faith effort") or face exile. Out on Gliese 832 c, the air and dust try to kill you, scatterbug swarms struggle to terraform, and people live by lithium hydroxide rebreathers, ration cards, and “insta-caff” (which is kind of like coffee, but a lot less tasty and enjoyable). It feels both futuristic and feral: frontier hamlets under alien skies, governed as much by austerity and myth as by code and policy, until a primordial Reliquary under the sand wakes up and proves the oldest technology in the system isn’t human at all. This book explores how many aspects of humanity never change regardless of technological advancements. In a sense, we're just like cavemen with business suits and suitcases now. Even in the 2400s, there are still corrupt and power hungry people like Terry; there are still fanatical, cult-like groups of people, and people still need their caffeine (whether it's palatable or not). This book has a lot going for it. We will say that it seems to place an inordinate amount of focus on scatterbugs, the terraforming critters. Yes, they're cool, cute (sometimes), and somewhat integral to the plot, but did we have to read about them constantly. Pierre even adopts one as a pet and names it Maat. It seems like every other page had to have something about the scatterbugs doing one thing or another. We almost felt like this book might as well have just been about the scatterbugs, starring the scatterbugs as the main characters. Cause, why not? They're everywhere anyway! The good news: once the Reliquary thread heats up, the book absolutely snaps into focus. Stakes spike. The colony politics tighten. Pierre and Alicia’s steady, brain-and-heart partnership shines. Terry’s ambition curdles into something dangerous. And the survival scenes—hazmat scrambles, ration worries, suit patches, desperate gambits—hit hard. By the final act, it’s tense, clever, and memorable, with imagery you won’t forget. Check it out on Amazon!
1 Comment
 Score: 93+/100 (9.3+ out of 10)
Fate Can Toss a Boomerang may be Carolyn Summer Quinn's darkest and most compelling mystery yet! Carolyn Summer Quinn is one of the most prolific authors in the history of OCA with five previous award-winning entries (this being the sixth). She seems particularly adept at crafting historical fiction like Until the Stars Align and To Bloom Like a Tulip as well as mysteries like The Mystery from Way Back When and Cans of Cola Just Don't Cry. One reservation we've always had about Quinn's work is that she has a certain style that often seems chaotic and convoluted, yet—somehow—simultaneously formulaic and predictable. Those adjectives don't usually go together, but we'll put it another way: it often seems like Quinn gets you all mixed up and wound up in knots near the middle of the book with a truckload of characters and red-herrings, but the conclusion is often pretty obvious. Meanwhile, a lot of the same types of plotlines and characters seemed to reoccur in Quinn's books, for better or for worse, as we've expressed in other reviews. Well, this book is a breath of fresh air in that regard. Yes, it's a bit predictable in terms of the culprit, but we'd be lying if we said we weren't thoroughly engaged through this book. That's a big deal. Like we were alluding to earlier, we've often felt like a lot of Quinn's books start strong and end strong, but there tends to be a lot of twisty-turny fluff in the middle that isn't as compelling or interesting. This book does have red-herrings and twisty-turny fluff, but it's compelling and interesting. So, that's a big win. We didn't want to put this book down. That's another big win. Carolyn Summer Quinn must have really taken our previous criticisms to heart (especially about the formulaic nature of previous books) and made adjustments, because this book is distinctly different in so many ways. The tone is different. The premise is different. Yes, it's still a mystery, but it's a lot darker and a lot grimmer than probably any other book Quinn has written so far, including the Holocaust-era books. This book involves a lifelong child predator, Petra Turkett, as its primary villain. That on its own raises the stakes and our blood-pressures. This is a more intense book than the others, one that keeps you on your toes, unsteady, uneasy, and nervous on what could come around the corner. And, ironically, Petra Turkett is effectively, theoretically the victim of the detective mystery, at least so far as she's the murder victim whose homicide needs to be solved by the protagonists. This really raises some big huge questions—ethical and moral ones. Like, does a predatory monster like Petra Turkett deserve justice? Does her case deserve the same attention and investigative efforts as her victims? Adding to this is the fact that the main protagonist who is charged with solving Turkett's murder, Detective Knox Wanamaker, is a former victim of Turkett's. Now, THAT's a premise! Now, there is a part of us that felt that Knox's character and backstory was a bit... off. For example, if he was a police officer—no, not just a normal police officer, a detective—with direct knowledge of Turkett's pedophilic activities—why would he never come forward with evidence? Why wouldn't he do more to protect the community from her? Yes, him being a police officer seems to scare her away, but beyond that... it doesn't seem like Knox did enough to thwart her while she was alive. Like, how many more kids could've been protected if Knox had been more diligent and used his position to investigate her more? Why did it take her death to prompt that? Like, what about Cody, Jasper Somerset, and—heck—even Davey? All of these lives could've been helped if Knox did the common sense thing and was more proactive about stopping Petra. Anyway, if you set that aside, this is a really tense mystery, especially when you start to realize how many people Petra victimized and how many lives she ruined. What happened to Jasper just doesn't sit well to us, and we're haunted by the thought of what Knox could've done better to stop someone he knew was evil and a criminal. Perhaps that's the point. It's a book full of ethical and moral dilemmas. Should you investigate and persecute a victim for taking out a menace to society? Should you use/abuse your position of power to stop a menace to society before they can strike again? If a loved one is assaulted, should you retaliate? Do you have that right? If you're assaulted, should you retaliate? Do you have that right? Or does that go beyond mere self-defense and into something else entirely? Another good thing about this book is the subtle budding romance between Knox and Marigold Rivas. There's a definite attraction there, which presents an ethical dilemma (should you crush on and try to date your coworker?). But beyond that, you can kind of infer that Knox is romantically awkward because of the abuse he suffered at the hands of Petra, making her impact even more profound. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 94/100 (9.4 out of 10)
In the iconic song by Eurythmics, we're told: "Sweet dreams are made of this... Some of them want to use you Some of them want to get used by you Some of them want to abuse you Some of them want to be abused" Few stories embody those lyrics more vividly than The Real Dreamwalker Presents: El Niño by Ashlyn Jacobs! Indeed, the line between dreams and nightmares can be razor thin. The same dreams that drive us toward triumph and fulfillment can also bring about tragedy, death, and our downfall. Ask any bank robber who now finds themselves behind bars without freedom or agency--all for some extra cash. Ask any guy who thought they were marrying the girl of their dreams only to end up with a hysterical control freak and paying child support. This book centers around the mysterious, enigmatic figure known as the Dreamwalker, a dark force that haunts dreams, appears at unexpected times, and often brings about the unraveling of lives, sometimes through a distorted version of wish fulfillment. "You asked for it, you got it...ten-fold" is pretty much what he operates by. If you dream about wealth, he'll pretty much bury you alive in it. If you say you want to win the lottery, he'll drive you crazy with paranoia. If you wish for your dead loved one to come back to life, he'll reanimate every corpse in the cemetery to surround and horrify you, maggots and all. You know who he reminded us of? Calypso from the Twisted Metal video games. Calypso would often punish the winner of the Twisted Metal tournament by twisting their own wish in a dark ironic way. For example, Axel wishes to be freed from the machine he’s chained to, and Calypso “frees” him by tearing off his arms. Warthog asks for the body of a 20-year-old, and gets a young body with his original old head still attached. Twister wants unmatched speed, so she’s granted such velocity that she outruns time and meets a prehistoric end. Thumper wishes to rule the world, and becomes king of a dead, ruined planet with no one left to rule. Dollface begs for the world’s biggest runway to become a supermodel, and Calypso teleports her onto an airport runway where a landing plane crushes her. Dreamwalker really comes across as a villain and an antagonist, seemingly a sick, twisted, sadistic one who brings about a lot of pain, suffering, and misery. He rarely ever talks. At one point, his voice and thoughts seem to play through a stereo speaker that some basketball boys have on. However, there seems to be at least one instance in which he actually talks and has a conversation with someone, from what we recall. That conversation happens with Camilla, the girl who escapes her bleak living situation by creating art, particularly of a dragon, which she calls her "Baku" (a Japanese spirit demon her mother had told her about before dying, which she seems to view as a guardian or protector). Not only does Dreamwalker have a conversation with Camilla, but he actually explicitly asks her what she wants and wishes for. This is special because, from what we recall, Dreamwalker acted mostly like a Freddy Krueger-like dream stalker or psychic who would basically eavesdrop or figure out what you desired from what you said or thought about. He actually provides a lot more courtesy to Camilla than he does other characters. Well, why would he give Camilla more courtesy than other characters? We think that it's because Camilla is actually a good and innocent person deep down inside, unlike many of the other characters who tend to be selfish, greedy, vain, promiscuous, or out for revenge. But perhaps more than that, Camilla is an innocent victim. Not only did her mother die, but it's strongly implied that her father is sexually and physically abusive toward her. So, in this instance, Dreamwalker almost (kinda) drops divine justice. Most of the time, though, he's an a-hole. We'd love to compare him to someone like the Grim Reaper (from multiple stories) or Death from Interview with Death by V.K. Pasanen, but Dreamwalker is just not as benevolent or morally neutral as those characters. It really does seem like he goes out of his way to make everyone as miserable as possible. For example, what did Chase do that was so evil, immoral, or wrong to deserve his father dying at a Dodger's game, then being terrified and traumatized by zombies? Yeah, you could argue he may have sought vengeance and retribution against Dreamwalker for the death of his father, but wouldn't you? Also, it isn't clear that Chase really intends to get back at Dreamwalker, it seems like he just wants answers and his father back. Do you blame him? The poor kid! And think of Dashawn. What did Dashawn really do that was so evil, immoral, or wrong that he deserved to be lured into a cranberry bog and fed to a giant spider? Dashawn trash-talked, showboated, and took a dumb bet. That's classic teen bravado, not mortal sin. Oh, and by the way, Dashawn is also not used to success. He's looked down on as a poor basketball player yet dreams of making it big in D1 someday. Do you blame him for being excited and happy for winning a game and succeeding at his favorite sport for once in his otherwise-dismal life? Give the kid a break! Like, look at Archie Manning flexing on that one Sam Houston player after a touchdown following three weeks of mediocre play and being told he sucks and is overhyped/overrated. Um, hello, Dreamwalker... instead of picking on little kids who just want to be the next Michael Jordan, there are full-grown college football players with silver spoons in their mouth showboating against future Uber drivers. The Dreamwalker dangles a treasure chest and then weaponizes the kids’ competitiveness against them. That isn’t justice, it seems like entrapment dressed as a “lesson.” Same with Chase: grief isn’t a crime. He wants answers and his dad back. Punishing raw, honest grief with zombies and terror feels vindictive, not corrective. There's a chapter/scene in which Dreamwalker plays literally freeze tag with kids (literally freezing/petrifying them), leaving only one of them alive. The survivor then falls upon great fortune, finding stacks of $10 bills (ok, that's kinda humorous) and getting invited on a date with the cutest girl in school. But the guilt eats him up inside. He is haunted by his dead friends until he eventually takes a razor blade and, well... we'll leave it there. That's... pretty effed up. Dreamwalker is not a good, decent, or even just/fair guy. He just isn't. Now, there are aspects of his character that are interesting. He seems to know what people are thinking and what they want. He smells good. His alluring scent is actually one of his defining characteristics. He's often covered in or holding a blanket. Wolf spiders often appear from him or when he's around (if we recall). Sorry if our memories are fuzzy. This book is pretty whacky, wild, and surreal. It got our heads twisted in a knot at times. Oh, and by the way, he also "appears" to the reader at one point, "staring" at the reader and menacing them like he's Moro from the Dragon Ball Super manga chapter 43. That's... pretty meta, creepy, and cool. We also thought it was kind of humorous that he terrorizes Ellie, Tina, and Lorna as a werewolf after they obsess over werewolves. Ok, we might be stretching about the "obsessed" and fangirl parts, but our head-canon is that they're huge fans of Twilight and other such books. That thought is a humorous to us because we get a lot of werewolf novels and werewolf smut sent our way, including smutty-werewolves-in-space books, believe it or not. There was also that one book in the previous contest in which the girl and the werewolf were going at it the whole book like rabbits on a trampoline. Anyway, we're not sure if the girls did anything to deserve Dreamwalker terrorizing them either. It needs to be said that we started this book off being very lost and bewildered. The book is surreal. It skips around a lot and never seems to maintain a focus on any one character or group of characters except for maybe Dreamwalker himself. This is more like a short-story collection or anthology than a novel with a single cohesive plot. Another thing that left us somewhat baffled is... what's with the El Nino thing? Like, we know what El Nino is, but what did it have to do with what Dreamwalker was doing? Like a lot of this book, it kind of seems to be a motif that's tacked on or shoved in during a later draft. Another example is how the narrative tries to set a precedence for Dreamwalker by introducing us to concepts like the baku and the yokai. We found this to be distracting more than anything, adding fluff to the book. But we get why it's there. Like we said, it's supposed to set a precedence that people around the world and throughout history have encountered Dreamwalker or beings like him. Check it out on Amazon!  Paperback Score: 94/100 (9.4 out of 10)
Audiobook Score: 95+/100 (9.5+ out of 10) The Warrior's Shade is the second book in the Saxen Saga and one of the most anticipated sequels in the history of our contests! WE LOVED the first book, The Handler's Gambit. It marked a return to epic science fiction with interesting and compelling characters, cool technology, a lot of tension, suspense, and fabulous world-building. But above all, the first book made us fall in love with its core characters, especially the enigmatic Elyon, a living superweapon and (in a sense) a mutant from an already-overpowered humanoid-alien race known as Saxens. The Saxens are key to this series, also being the race of one of the other major characters, Reia ("Domina"--a bit of a space queen or duchess of her own domain) and Vindik, a deceased warlord and the ruthless villain of the first book. In all honesty, this book is sorely missing Vindik. The threat and menace he posed was one of the things that really made the first book great. It really does feel like a doughnut. A really tasty, frosted doughnut with sprinkles, but a doughnut none the less, complete with a big, huge hole in the middle. Vindik's absence is immeasurably felt. In fact, many of the other characters still reference and talk about him as if he's still a major influence and factor in their lives. That's how impactful a character he was! He was basically the plot equivalent of a Texas-sized asteroid dropped into the middle of the Atlantic. Anyway, this book more prominently features Reia, a Saxen Domina with a short temper and exceptional "gravity" powers. While she's not necessarily villainous and evil like Vindik clearly was, she exists in a morally gray area. She's not beyond exploiting and manipulating Elyon and Boone in various ways to get what she wants. You know who she reminded us of? A combination of Divatox (the space pirate queen from Power Rangers) and President Coin from The Hunger Games series. She's flamboyant and funny (at times) like Divatox but also a dark political force like Coin proved to be. Speaking of "funny", one of our favorite scenes was when Reia got so mad that she started generating heat and static electricity that follows her. We just kept imagining this really hysterical woman with smoke coming out of her ears and her hair sticking up. And let's not forget the series' main protagonist, Turner Boone. Now, Boone was a mixed bag for us in the previous book. Part of that was how he was playing a lot of the other characters in the book, feigning loyalty while basically serving his own goals. He also made some really risky, head-scratching decisions like putting Elyon in danger with the idea that this would prompt her to unleash her phenomenal powers. But Boone is cunning and intelligent, especially for his relatively young age. He's a commander who was prized and highly sought-after for his talents by both Vindik and Reia during their power struggle (we're just gonna choose to call it that for simplicity's sake). The best way we can describe him is that he's a prodigy, especially for his high position. He is in charge of a floatilla of warships centered around his storied flagship, the Makellan, which is sort of like the Starship Enterprise or Millennium Falcon of this book. A lot of the book takes place on or around the Makellan. Boone is clearly a more humanized character in this book. What makes us say that? Well, in the previous book, he was very cutthroat in the things he did and the way he acted. Like we said, he kept putting Elyon in danger and just kept trusting she'd respond appropriately with her powers. He also served Vindik, not a very good guy, and Reia, an only-slightly-better person. Being in such a role probably forced Boone to be more stoic and cold, especially knowing that Vindik could come down on him at any moment for showing hesitation, reluctance, or compassion. In this book, Boone's conscience is constantly torn. This is critical as a plot device because he has to make a lot of difficult decisions—at an ethical, moral, and tactical level—that could have a range of consequences. We see him hesitate, second-guess, and even feel guilt over the lives lost under his command. His compassion, once buried, surfaces in quiet moments where he puts his crew’s safety over victory. He also has to balance the wants and machinations of what might be an untrustworthy and possibly even sinister client. And that leads us to mention the all-important "client" in this story, Chelani. Keep your eyes peeled for this guy! This "client" may not be so benevolent after all. Anyway, this book shines in a variety of ways. The world-building is impressive. There are a lot of different locations, people, races, and factions in this series. Something we really appreciated was the technology. We loved how there was a naturally progression and advancement in the technology. For example, the "relic" is described as having older-styled retractacle cannons. We're told that modern cannons use a different mechanism. That's a nice touch. It makes you feel like this world/universe has been lived in and has its own history. Elyon is a highlight again. She's so cool! One of the first scenes with her features her taking out nine trained soldiers at once like she's Young Vegeta fighting Saibamen or something. She is referred to as "the galaxy's biological bomb." How freakin' awesome is that? Apparently, if she dies, she releases some kind of mega-virus (Sa-Xe) or something that infects everyone like the bubonic plague. Another highlight is this other character named Greming. Greming was an antagonist yet gray force in the previous book who was serving Vindik with moral reservations, somewhat like Boone was. They're actually mirrors of each other, in a sense. This is extra interesting because we learn that Greming was actually Vindik's childhood best-friend. He saw Vindik's descent into power-hungriness, paranoia, and madness following the trauma they experienced. Greming has this really impactful quote when questioned by Boone about if he would've destroyed an entire spacecraft with innocent people on board if Vindik ordered it. He responds: “I would have done whatever he wished. But I wouldn't have liked it.” It's also notable that, from what remember, Boone and Greming had almost identical experiences with the Coalition Academy. Essentially, they both went their own ways due to issues with the Coalition Academy. Greming is a bit of a mentor to Boone. Outside of Elyon, he's really the one whom Boone seems to fall back on the most. Speaking of Boone and Elyon, their relationship has developed a lot. They crave being in each other's presence and long for each other. It's... kind of cute, kind of beautiful, and kind of weird. Well, what makes it weird? Well, Elyon is sometimes referred to as a "kid" or a teenager. She's actually 17 years old, which would still technically make her underage in Earth terms, unless the "telomere" years used by the Coaltion and people in this universe mean something entirely different. Layer on top that Boone’s been a protector/guardian/authority figure for her, and you get an age/power-imbalance that makes their closeness feel… complicated. Also, since the previous book, she was described as being a very strikingly attractive female person with bright eyes and hair. It was pretty clear in the previous book that Boone had an almost big-brother or paternal feeling toward her. However, this book seems to imply (if not outright forward the idea of) some romantic feelings and romantic tension between the two. For example: “She slid into bed… inching toward his warmth. Elyon took a long breath, taking in his pheromones… She was nearly asleep when Boone’s arm dropped around her… She placed her head on his shoulder and fell asleep.” "Boone sat back, watching more than listening. Elyon’s lithe body was her instrument, and she controlled it for whatever purpose suited her. Her words held no interest right now. His eyes wandered over her bare, rounded shoulders, the creamy blue tint of her skin, the curves beneath the shimmering blue dress, the long, athletic arms that undulated with each motion. As if seeing her for the first time, his pulse quickened, and his thoughts grew foggy." Yeah, that's not a big-brother/little-sister relationship, that's venturing into an intimate or romantic one. Now, in all fairness, they are very close in age. Boone is 19 and Elyon is 17. It's not like Boone is robbing the cradle. This is essentially like a college freshman dating a high school senior. And, in all honesty, they clearly have chemistry. It's just the knowledge that he was just nurturing her like a little sister or a daughter in the previous book that makes things a bit awkward. Beside Elyon, there are a few other super cool superweapons like the EM driver (rail cannon) and the relic—a "world-breaker" air-to-surface beam emitter that's apparently capable of terraforming whole planets! One thing we really need to say is that the audiobook is excellent, especially in terms of the performance by the narrator. This is arguably the best audiobook performance we've experienced since Sir Michael Caine's book, Deadly Game (which was narrated by Eddie Marsan). Scott Allen, the narrator of both The Warrior's Shade and The Handler's Gambit, is absolutely PHENOMENAL! If he isn't one of the best audiobook narrators, we want to know who is! He gives each and every single characters a unique voice! Female characters too! We get a range of different accents, tones, and voices in here. We couldn't be more impressed! It should briefly be noted that there is one genuine female voice in here, we think of a character named Cantara. We're not exactly sure why she was given a different voice actor/actress from all the other characters (maybe it was an inside thing), but they do an ok enough job. This book and audiobook succeed in a lot of ways. One issue we'll bring up is that there are some pacing issues in the second half. It DRAGS. This book meanders a lot longer than it needed to around 3/5ths of the way in, but the majority of our thoughts toward this book lean positive. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 94/100 (9.4 out of 10)
Water Horse by Ashley Chapman is a fantasy romance novel with a touch of dark mythos and a hint of sea salt, light, and steel. This is the sequel to Kelpie, a previous OCA-winning novel, which introduced us to the sympathetic Southern Belle, Vivienne Griffin, who is thrust into a heated conflict between mythical were-creatures called Kelpies. Kelpies are pretty much mythical water monsters in Scottish folklore who resemble horses and try to entice riders before devouring and/or drowning them. So, they kind of function like Sirens. They're powerful and even magical, similar to dragons. They can transform from their Kelpie form to their human form and vice-versa. They're really fascinating creatures who rarely get showcased in fiction to the same degree as other creatures like mermaids, dragons, and unicorns. So, it's a breath of fresh air to see them depicted. In the previous book, Vivienne's life was crucially saved using Riley Lochin's royal Kelpie blood. This is inarguably the most important plot point in the series and pretty much drives the events of Water Horse, the second book. Due to her now carrying royal Kelpie blood and being destined to give birth to the next king, she becomes a prime target for all Kelpie and evildoers like Droch and Cro. Now, we have to be honest: a lot of our feelings about the previous book are also felt in the second, for better or for worse. For example, we continued to be upset with how Eelus, who seemed like he would be the deuteragonist and main love interest of the series, was sidelined and played third-fiddle to Lochin. The way we feel about that is similar to how a lot of people felt that Esmeralda in Hunchback of Notre Dame should have ended up with Quasimodo and not with Captain Phoebus. In the same way, we kept wishing the narrative would honor the steady, tender bond Eelus built with Vivienne rather than defaulting to Lochin’s crown-and-conflict magnetism. It really seemed like Lochin came down from heaven like a deus ex machina to become the deuteragonist rather than earning it the way that Eelus did. It really feels like he became the second main character because he was powerful and had a royal bloodline. We get why the plot pivots to Lochin; it raises the political stakes and expands the mythos, but it leaves Eelus feeling... well... undeservingly friend-zoned. We felt a little better after Lochin spent more time with Vivienne in this book, but that feeling never fully subsided. This is especially true since it seems like every Tom, Dick, and Harry is madly in love with Vivienne, and she doesn't do much to assuage that. In fact, it often seems like she provokes it. There's a scene in which she starts sexy stretching, then booty-bumps a male character, all while the narrative constantly tells us she's sexually inexperienced and doesn't even know how to kiss. We then get excuse after excuse to put her in sexual, sensual, and intimate situations like when she has to pretend to ferociously make out with Cro (one of the main villains) to fool other characters—keeping up a ruse—all while imagining Cro is Lochin. That had us rolling our eyes. Like, "Yeah, right, girl. Yeah, right." She even says things like "I provoked [tempted] you on purpose." Those scenes kind of made us feel a certain way about Vivienne. It made us feel like she's the kind of girl who would flirt with a bunch of guys just to see how it drives them all crazy and against each other. And we're pretty sure that's not what the author was going for granted the pseudo-Christian message of mercy and forgiveness. Oh, and Vivienne continues to be frustratingly bone-headed. It helps that the narrative acknowledges her decisions don't seem smart to some, but they still don't seem smart. For example, she constantly puts herself in needless peril and tries to be merciful and even friendly to characters who are pure evil (like Bleeder) or near pure evil (like Cro). She even says things like “If I hadn’t agreed to stay with him for five minutes...If I had tried to run, like I should have!” It's nice that she acknowledges her decisions are dumb, but they're still dumb. Now, with that said, this mercy, compassion, and ability to see the brightness in even the evilest people is what makes Vivienne special. She's Christ-like in that sense, which fits the book's surprisingly Christian messaging. She is someone who will turn the other cheek, not try to take the speck out of someone else's eye, and not cast the first stone. That's what seems to make her a fitting candidate for the critical position of Kelpie queen, something the book is clearly building toward. While other characters, including good ones like Lochin, are sometimes vicious and cruel, Vivienne is almost always friendly, kind, caring, and compassionate. It's what sets her apart. We get that. And it's not like every single one of her decisions is dumb. Like, she does some calculus in her head (hmm... maybe I shouldn't fight a friggin' powerful dark lord being a frail human female with no formal combat training + a bum ankle and rib) but eventually decides not to fight Droch until he forces her to. But, like, so much of this book is her reaching out to and trying to be friendly with Cro, a freakin' monster whose followers literally cannibalize one of their own. A guy who tortured Lochin. A beast who grievously injured her and Lochin. Like, there's a point of no return, girl. We kept wanting Vivienne to get her head out of her &%^ and see how dangerous and evil Cro was. It's like watching your best friend date a dude who beats her and cheats on her all the time. Girl, STOP BEING STUPID AND RUN! We even get lines like how any woman with half a brain would hate Cro. It's like Stockholm syndrome turned up to 11. It's like the girl who says, "But, daddy, I can fix him!" So, Vivienne has a very interesting way of looking at the terrible people and things that she has encountered and experienced. Michael actually helps her to frame her thoughts early in the book: “If Bleeder hadn’t come, I might never have known what a Kelpie was. I might never have had a ride on one...I might not be sitting in the time-out corner with you right now.” Keep in mind, Bleeder was a sociopathic/psychopathic mass-murdering Kelpie whose evil seemed to know no bounds. He is the closest thing to an irredeemable character we've read about. Vivienne also says: “There had to be more to him than chaos and seduction.” She tells him directly, “despite the horrors you’ve shown me, there’s more to you than what frightens me.” During the duel she pleads with Lochin, “Because he’s worth saving!” and suggests Cro's cruelty also pushed Lochin toward his power. Later, she states, “You are good, and you are worth having your soul saved.” This is really touching, powerful Christian messaging. It really makes you think. But what about those who aren't as lucky as Vivienne? To have royal Kelpie blood flowing through her and every Kelpie fawning over her? To have plot devices and plot conveniences keeping her alive? Well, you could argue the saints and martyrs all experienced trials, tribulations, suffering, and eventually death. Jesus suffered and died being self-sacrificing, merciful, kind, caring, compassionate, and forgiving. That was kind of the point. Being a Christ-like Christian isn't easy. If it were easy, everyone would be doing it. This book also made us think about a very huge question: Why are we human? Why aren't we something else like elvin, Kryptonian, Saiyan, Viltrumite, or Kelpie? Vivienne may help us answer that question. Vivienne is human. Despite Lochin's blood, she isn't superpowered or magical necessarily. But she's special because of how she is. Because of her not fearing death. Because of her love, compassion, caring, and mercy. So, that message kind of comes across. And at least Eelus had some time to shine in this book (albeit sparsely) and that his bond with Vivienne from the previous book was somewhat acknowledged. For example, Vivienne recalls riding him for the first time and how special that was. He's also the first one to stop her from leaving when she declares to Lochin that she's a liability and is a danger to everyone. That's special. There's also a cute and cool new group of creatures called Pucas who hate/fear the Kelpies but hate/fear Droch more. In fact, they come together and put aside their differences in the face of the evil ones. One of the cutest is Autumn, a Pulca who is like a rabbit and even acts like it. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 87/100 (8.7 out of 10)
Communicate Like a Champion is the kind of slim, straight-to-the-point guide you can finish in a sitting and use the same day. It opens with a deceptively simple thesis: most misfires happen because the intent behind a message is fuzzy. The book immediately grounds that idea in a scenario every worker knows too well, the “quick meeting” with no context, then shows how both sides can fix it. Managers should state a purpose before the meeting and close with explicit next steps. Employees should ask one clarifying question, restate their understanding, and follow up in writing if needed. It is common-sense advice, yes, but presented with a crispness and dual-perspective coaching that makes it stick. The heart of the book is a seven-part model of communication: Clarity, Confidence, Respect, Listening, Tone, Empathy, and Follow-up. The author does not bury you in jargon. Instead, each component gets quick A/B examples that show how tiny edits change outcomes. “Let’s catch up” becomes a clear, agenda-driven invitation that tells people exactly how to prepare. Hedgy “I think… I’m not sure…” becomes decisive “X changed; A is on track; let’s assess B before committing.” “That won’t work” softens to “I see your point—may I offer another perspective?” These upgrades are small, but the cumulative effect on trust and momentum is big. What pushes this from “nice list” to “usable playbook” is the habit engine behind it. The 28-Day Communication Challenge turns the seven components into daily reps. Week 1 gets you leading with intent and summarizing conversations in one sentence. Week 2 trains your ear and your tone. Week 3 layers empathy and healthier conflict. Week 4 adds tools and institutionalizes follow-up. If you simply did these prompts for a month, your inbox would get clearer, your meetings would end cleaner, and your team would notice. The “tools” chapter is practical. It acknowledges that Grammarly, Copilot, and ChatGPT can help with tone and clarity, then does the rare, responsible thing: reminds you to review suggestions so meaning is not lost. It pairs the software with analog discipline like journaling and structured peer feedback sessions. There is even a worked example of the kind of feedback an AI assistant might give you after you upload the guide and describe a tricky communication, from “three things done well” to “questions to deepen reflection.” That blend of tech and craft is exactly where most professionals live. Now, we use the word "book" with some apprehension because one of this work's greatest weaknesses is how sparse it is. This book is effectively only about 30 pages long with 30 (or so) additional pages being mostly blank and dedicated to notes. This is more like a pamphlet or a Power Point presentation than a book. It's unfortunate because we started reading this with a ton of excitement and very high expectations. Who doesn't want to learn to "Communicate Like a Champion" from a guy literally named Champion? Well, it wasn't quite as substantive and impactful as we had hoped. This book would've really benefitted from case studies and examples from real life. We do like that this book provides some hypothetical scenarios and different things to say, allowing the reader to choose between what they would consider ideal or not-so-ideal communication. Our favorite was the "I need this by 3 AM" example. It really gave us perspective. This book is best students, emerging leaders, and busy pros who want immediate, measurable gains in clarity and tone. Also great for managers who need a shared language for meetings and follow-ups. Less ideal for comms veterans seeking dense research or niche, industry-specific playbooks. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 95/100 (9.5 out of 10)
Behind the Stars by Chad Gregory is one of the most pleasant surprises of the season! While short in length, it's thick and dense in substance! What do we mean by that? Well, Behind the Stars isn't just a book about being a stand in or double for Hollywood stars, it's a book about performing at your best, being a professional, showing up every day, getting 1% better every day, and following your dreams! We did not expect all of that! And it resonated with us. Why? Well, because many of us have been actors in various capacitates whether on stage, or just background extras. We've interacted with big-name stars and smaller ones. We've talked to directors, assistant directors, and crew. It's absolutely fascinating to be involved in the intricate filmmaking process, but it's also intimidating. The thought has always lingered: most of these people make a lot more than we do. Some of them are millionaires. Some of them are household names. It's a sobering thought to be a hand's reach away from someone who is known to millions. It can make you feel invisible, inadequate, and inferior. It can make you feel small, weak, or invaluable. This is true for us as authors and book reviewers as well. Brandon Sanderson and others frequently use the same building as us for signing events. It's easy to feel starstruck, but it's also easy to feel a bit down as well. After all, these people seem to be where we can seemingly only dream to be: rich and famous. But Gregory, a legitimate stand in and double for A-list celebrities (one in particular), is great to remind readers that they are valuable. In fact, no one is "untouchable" or greater than anyone else in the eyes of God, as reaffirmed in the "Me Too" section. People who thought they could take advantage and exploit others were eventually brought to justice. Meanwhile, those who did the right things and held onto their integrity were vindicated. In fact, one of our favorite parts of the book was when Gregory talked about how you should be willing to stand up for those who are being taken advantage of in the industry, such as being shorted of their overtime pay. It's not making a fuss, it's doing the right thing. It's letting everyone know that you're more than someone who's there for a paycheck. Speaking of being valuable and important in the face of celebrities and powerful people, Gregory has several key quotes reaffirming this. For example: "It’s not about stealing the show—it’s about owning your piece of it. You’re the unsung hero... quiet, steady, and clutch. The benefits? Work, wisdom, trust, sanity, growth. You’re not just standing in. You’re standing out, even if they don’t shout your name." “A stand-in doesn’t get the spotlight. No one’s chanting their name. But there’s a truth in their work, a quiet power, that’s worth more than any red carpet.” “Stand-ins don’t get trailers or red carpets, but the best ones carry an intrinsic pride that doesn’t need external validation. They know that every perfectly lit shot and flawless take bears their imprint. Their reward lies in the knowledge that their skill elevated the production, even if their name never graces the credits.” "A carpenter doesn’t sand a table’s underside for praise; they do it because the work demands it. Similarly, a stand-in’s pride isn’t about recognition—it’s about integrity. They’re not there to steal the show but to ensure the show succeeds.” We really love passages like these. They actually extend far beyond being in filmmaking. They extend into every aspect of life. They're applicable. That's what we love. Do what you do well. That seems to be one of the big take-home messages of the book. On top of that: take pride in what you do. There are a lot of great quotes and phrasing about taking pride in your work: "Pride in performance means dodging these traps, so stay sharp, skip crafty, shut up, keep it professional, stand still, let the gig come to you, show up early, show up period, and stay off the radar." "Later, when the actor steps in, the scene flows effortlessly because the stand-in’s mastery laid the groundwork. That’s pride in performance: a silent vow to be exceptional, even in the shadows." Do things because you're a professional and that's what you do, not because you get cheers and applause. The reward is in your heart and in your soul—knowing that you did a good job. The other part of the reward is when you get paid and you keep getting invited back to get paid. We yapped a lot about our feelings about the book, but what about the contents of the book itself? Well, this book is the culmination of years of work by Chad Gregory, a professional stand in and double in films. While the author never explicitly states it, it can strongly be inferred and researched that he was a stand in and double for none other than Sylvester Stallone, who, according to the author is "arguably the most iconic actor in the history of TV and film." Stallone is famous for the Rocky and Rambo movies, both of which are iconic. Heck, the Rocky franchise might be our favorite movie series of them all! Of this mysterious famous actor, Gregory says he is "an A-list superstar, a true American icon. His work and name transcend TV and film." Indeed! If you look up Chad Gregory's IMDB and photos, it's no surprise. He looks just like Stallone! Especially with sunglasses. Their body-types are identical, which is really encouraging for people who put effort into staying in shape. It also gives some hope to those who aren't quite six-feet or taller. Gregory talks a lot about people who get roles because of their height, yes, even average-sized and shorter people. Gregory talks about how he knows someone who got a role just because he was 5'10" exactly! Hmmm... wonder who that could've been! This book provides a lot of great and applicable advice to being in a stand in or double role. One of the key things that Gregory keeps emphasizing is how you should study the actor you're supposed to mimic. Study for hours. Gregory half-jokes about how he should have a PhD in every actor he stands in for. He studies their tendencies, their ticks, their postures, their gaits—everything he can. He also talks about who to get to know on the set, particularly the 1st AD (assistant director) who is usually in the know about what's going on. He talks about always being ready and available, not hanging out by the snacks or chatting on the side. Something else he talked about was self-control, especially avoiding fidgeting and unnecessary movements like bouncing or twitching on the set. Stillness is a virtue when you're a stand in. Why? Well, because the lighting and camera crews have to base everything you do off of you. So if you're moving all over the place, it's going to be a mess! It's going to be very frustrating. Oh, speaking of not being frustrating, Gregory also talks about things to do and things not to do. You don't want to be the one who's known as a nuisance on set. That's a good way to never be invited back or be replaced on the spot. This really made us think about other roles and occupations in life--inglorious, quiet ones. Maybe you're a garbage man. Maybe you're a janitor. Heck, maybe you're an offensive lineman in college or even the NFL. The spotlight may not be on you, but do your job! Do it well! We loved that message. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 92+/100 (9.2+ out of 10)
Multi-time OCA winner David Bush continues to introduce the wonders of history (particularly western history) via his extraordinary animal-filled series! Animal Attrition is the 7th book in the series that began with General Jack and the Battle of the Five Kingdoms. It takes place during the time of the Vikings, 9th century C.E., and is inspired not only by the history but also the culture of the Vikings in Europe at the time, particularly Norse mythology and their heavy emphasis on war. One of the key points of this book is how the Vikings gradually became Christianized despite originally looking down on the Christians and their beliefs, something which changed as the Christians became more successful in war and the Vikings looked to gain favor from their God. In AD 878, a brilliant-white deer, Lars, is blamed for a chaotic market accident and the superstitious community turns on him. He’s secretly protected by Freydis, a formidable elkhound matriarch who once abandoned him as a newborn (found after a shipwreck) but later bonded to him like a son. The village’s misfortunes (bad weather, disease, a deadly raid) get pinned on Lars, and the druid Gunnar stokes fear. During a midnight plot to kill Freydis and the deer, Odd (Freydis’s surviving, one-eyed son) pressures for a truce, but Lars overhears the conspiracy and chooses exile to save Freydis. On the road, Lars is joined by a crippled, one-eyed raven calling himself Odin-One-Eye (a fallen echo of the god), who claims Lars’s true mother was a white deer from across the sea--the shipwrecked doe who died after giving birth. The raven lost his eye and wing tailing that voyage; now he rides Lars’s antlers like a living “leafless tree,” needling him with bleak humor as they head south. Meanwhile, Freydis’s world contracts: husband Njord and son Lot are killed when their supposed ally Rufus (a wolf) pays Blackbeard (a Tailandian bear) to ambush them. Freydis vows vengeance and hardens into a political force, yet she’s still emotionally tethered to Lars. When Rufus marches on the settlement, Lars climbs a nearby peak and triggers a rockfall, which becomes a full avalanche that buries most of the invaders and kills Rufus. Odd counterattacks and wins. The townsfolk refuse to credit Lars and claim luck returned only because he left. Freydis recognizes his silhouette at the summit, but by the time she brings others to the site, thaw has erased the evidence. Lars, believing exile is the only way to protect her, stays gone. From here the book widens into allegory: Norse blood-piety versus a rising “white organisation” ethic (harmony among animals and between animals and humans), which--yeah--is a name that raised some of our eyebrows. Anyway, rumors swirl that Lars isn’t just lucky, he’s an omen. Some imagine him as Yggdrasill’s living sign (life-making over war-making), and even Freydis, battle-hard, pragmatic, suspends animal sacrifices for a time. The finale refuses a fireworks Ragnarok: instead, characters choose what to be. Odd and Freydis look toward Tailandia (the old homeland) as a literal and symbolic workshop to forge a new society, carrying a small lantern of hope into the dark. It’s a twilight, not of annihilation, but of realignment. This book, similar to Animal Quest and Animals Divided, really feels rushed. The best example we have of that is the encounter between Lars and Blackbeard. What seemed like it was heading toward a great, action-packed scene seems to fizzle out before it even began. It builds, then flattens. That whole scene seemed rushed, and everything after that really felt crammed-in. It's strange because the book was building quite well. Being brief and concise isn't entirely a bad thing. You can read this book in about three hours or so, which is great for YA, middle-grade, and younger readers. It's an opportunity for them to learn some history. However, similar to other books in the series, it often seems like the historical sections are actually more interesting and fun to read than the fiction. You'll learn a lot from it! With that said, this book has one shining light: the relationship between Lars and Odin-One-Eye (the raven) is charming and humorous. We're assuming this relationship reflects the tenuous relationship that Vikings and Christians had in their early years. Odin-One-Eye clearly reflects a Viking culture that is hanging on by a thread in the face of a larger, more powerful cultural force. He seems to represent lost or old glory. Viking culture is adapting, bargaining, and losing ground in stages as it struggles to exist and coexist. This book is very promising and quite valuable as a way to teach history to children. We just wish that the last third didn't seem so rushed. A fantastic historical-fiction series overall! Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 93+/100 (9.3+ out of 10)
CONTENT TRIGGER WARNING Have you seen those stories about people who've gotten themselves killed (or killed themselves) in horrific ways, then thought to yourself: What the hell were they thinking?! The Canceled Life of Zander Wolbach by Alden Windrow is a thought-provoking yet morbidly entertaining glimpse into the life and mind of a man who makes such a horrific and baffling decision. What's extra fascinating about the main character, Zander Wolbach, is how he's simultaneously relatable and familiar yet also alien and weird. He's a guy who'll struggle with noisy neighbors and rude people over the phone (like many of us have) yet will pray for a snake not to bite him on a trail or pray to thank an animal for giving its life to be his food. Zander is a bright but anxious twenty-something stuck in Folksport, scraping by on a newspaper call-center job and trying to manage depression and meaninglessness in weekly sessions with his therapist, Dr. Golden. It's revealed that he has Gilbert's syndrome, a benign liver condition that makes him appear yellow at times. We thought this was going to be a much more important detail in the book (and perhaps even a major plot device), but it really doesn't seem to be. It really serves as window dressing to show how much of an oddball and black sheep Zander is. The early chapters set a routine, introducing us to the mundaneness and hamster wheel of Zander's life. It's full of fluorescent-lit cubicles, irate subscribers, and Zander’s uneasy mix of politeness and simmering anger, followed by the couch in Dr. Golden’s office where he admits he sometimes wishes he could “disappear” but has no plan to act on it. The therapy gives language to his frustration (wrong degree, false starts, self-reproach) while the call center grinds on, framing his desire for a more creative life. He turns that longing into songs. He becomes some sort of "healing musician." While this might seem weird, it's coincidentally something that also happened in Cora's Magic Melodies by Sally Kashner. You've gotta admit that music does having some healing properties, at least psychologically. People often listen to music to feel better and/or cope with stress. Recording at home, Zander releases a stripped-down, personal set that includes tracks about therapy and library afternoons; the reception is mixed, but it nudges him onto stages, first a church afternoon with a small, attentive crowd, then more shows. Momentum builds when an established alt-rock act, Doug Sereda, invites him to open. Zander plays well, sells a stack of CDs, and hears Doug promise to mention him to the label, a moment that feels like a door finally cracking open. Life, meanwhile, keeps undercutting him. He lands a marketing job at Quality Star Cruises but, two years in, a merger sends the headquarters to Cleveland and his position is eliminated; the layoff scatters the team and yanks away his one piece of stability. His attempts to channel music into service (volunteering as a “music healer”) end in humiliation and a burst of rage that sees him smashing his guitar behind the hospital dumpster. Throughout the book, a mixture of things are developing both in Zander himself and also in the world. Zander himself falls deeper and deeper into Buddhism, meditating and pronouncing Dharma. He sees a video and hears about the Monks who self-immolated during social strife and war-time in the 20th century. It peaks his curiosity. Meanwhile, the world goes through several crises in his lifetime including the Clinton scandal, 9/11, Iraq War, race riots, and the shocking election of Donald Trump. America itself grows increasingly divided between left and right. What's interesting is that Zander, a former Bill Clinton supporter, becomes increasingly disillusioned and eventually disinterested in politics altogether. In other words, he supports neither side. So, that begs the huge question: Why would he consider self-immolating? In protest of what? In support of who? It almost seems like he's just disillusioned with the world and society in general, and that's pretty much the explanation that the book comes up with. What's really fascinating about this book is that, despite the dark and grim conclusion its clearly heading toward, it's actually incredibly entertaining and humorous. The early customer service phone call he handles is super relatable, not just from Zander's prospective but also for the customer's. The customer is upset because the paper boy keeps throwing the newspaper in the wet bushes, and he assumes this is on purpose. The customer then makes threats of wanting to strangle the paper boy (who really isn't a boy, more like a man because he can drive a car, apparently). We've all been on both sides of that conversation: the one receiving a complaint or the one expressing it. It's frustrating either way. And it really shows how both silly yet powerful and important human conflict can be. Zander also has a terrible supervisor named Cole at one point. Cole is a bully and one of the book's antagonists, despite his rather short presence int he book. He calls a fellow coworker "Stevie Wonder" whenever he makes a mistake, essentially calling him blind. He puts everyone down and is savage to everyone in much the same way. We mentioned Doug Sereda, the singer, earlier. And his concert portions are some of the most entertaining and natural/organic in the book. His rapport with every audience is impeccable. We had a lot of fun reading it. There's also examples of good writing in this book, especially when describing viscerally human experiences. One of our favorite scenes is when Zander is shaving in front of a mirror and it's described as him scraping anxiety off of his face. Check it out on Amazon!  Score: 91+/100 (9.1+ out of 10)
A kid's imagination is a powerful thing! This book follows Ambrose, a boy obsessed with fantasy, especially dragons! All day, Ambrose thinks and daydreams about dragons and having magical powers: flying, healing, and using super-strength. He's accompanied by his gecko, Simon, whom he imagines being his personal dragon. He is treated like a weirdo and crazy person by the school and other students, particularly Tommy, a sickeningly malicious bully who keeps threatening to hurt Simon. Tommy and his cronies routinely torment him, grabbing Simon and squeezing him, planting worms in his food, and even spitting or pouring things into his meals to make him sick. They trip him in hallways, paint dragons on his walls to get him in trouble, and mock his obsession with dragons at every turn. What horrible, terrible people! Tommy is one of the most despicable, unlikable characters we've ever come across. A true scumbag! Like, Tommy shoves him in a metal bin. Do you know that people have actually gotten trapped, suffocated, and died in bins like that? This is practically attempted murder! We hate to say it, but Ambrose does come across as disturbing. No, he's not malicious and doesn't want to harm others, but he seems to be a danger to himself. There's a scene in here in which he is about to self-harm with a boxcutter to prove to himself that he has "healing powers." This is legitimately insane! Honestly, this scene should not be in this book, espcially considering that it's likely intended for middle-grade, juvenile, and YA readers—especially impressionable age groups. It also doesn't help Ambrose's character at all. It makes him seem like an unhinged lunatic who needs major psychological/professional help. If you just ignore that scene, the book, plot, and characters work well enough on their own. There was no need for something so horrific and extreme, even though he doesn't go through with it. Just the thought and implications are mortifying. However, it does make you think a little bit about how dark and grim Ambrose's real life is. Outside of his fantasies, he's an orphan who is relentlessly bullied and looked down upon, treated like an unwanted outsider. Fantasy serves as an escape for so many people, and Ambrose takes it to the extreme. Anyway, not everything and everyone in Ambrose's life is a miserable downer. Mr. Quan, the school janitor, serves as a Gandalf-like, comforting, supportive presence to Ambrose. He may be a nominee for Best Supporting Character. It's so doggone unfortunate that he isn't in more of this book. It really is. As you might expect in a book like this: magic and dragons are more than the stuff of myths and legends, they're real! And Ambrose himself is a living embodiment of that. Ambrose is actually a prince, the son of King Darius and Queen Aria, the rulers of what can probably be described as the "Dragon Kingdom" or "Dragon Realm." Speaking of dragons, it turns out that Simon is actually a dragon named Casius! And Casius has a sister, Sophie/Sopherea, who can also take on an owl form. However, the book isn't named after Simon & Sophie, it's actually named after Ambrose and his twin sister, Afiria. The two essentially serve as the main protagonists of the novel. Unfortunately, Ambrose, Afiria, and the Dragon Kingdom is menaced by a dark force led by Morfran, a dragon overlord, and Malachi, a powerful black dragon (and Morfran's son). This book is effectively and thematically a lot like Keynin Battles books: the wish fulfillment of a young man with all of his fantasies coming to life. It's still an interesting and fun little read. Oh, we can't wait until Tommy gets his! Check it out on Amazon! |
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