Friday, April 26, 2024
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Uncaged Review – Shiva XIV by Lyra Shanti with Excerpt

By
Cyrene Olson
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0

Shiva X1V
Lyra Shanti
SciFi/Space Opera

Prophecy rules, science rebels, and the fate of all depends on a boy named Ayn.

Predestined to become the great messiah of his people, Ayn must save his galaxy from disease and war. But when an unknown enemy threatens everyone he loves, the destiny he thought was his spins out of control.

A coming of age story amidst galactic turmoil, Shiva XIV has action, romance, mysticism, and magical creatures. Join Ayn and his friends as his journey to become a heroic legend unfolds!

*Adult themes, intended for mature teens and up.

Excerpt

“That’s The Chord!” Zin shouted as it went by.
“The Chord?“ Ayn yelled back. “What is it exactly?”
“It’s the main way everyone here commutes. We should take it into the heart of the city!” Zin happily exclaimed.
Following close behind his new friend and guide, Ayn clumsily carried his suitcase, trying his best to keep the pace. They soon went upstairs, which spiraled and seemed to go on for miles. Finally, when they reached the top, they had to wait a few minutes for the next train to slide through the opened silver dome that covered them from the smog-filled sky.
When the oval doors to the train opened automatically, Zin smiled at Ayn with a wink. It was as if this was the happiest day of Zin’s young life, and Ayn had absolutely no idea why. However, as they sat down upon the long horizontal benches, Ayn began feeling a sense of wonder and calm. It was the first time since the horror of his birthday that he didn’t feel a deep emptiness and sorrow. He even felt a small amount of Zin’s excitement as he peered through the window in order to watch the traffic of floating vehicles hovering below them.
“Look!” cried Zin. “It’s the Hithra Temple!” Ayn followed Zin’s pointed finger and looked to his right. Ayn could just make out a massive structure that had a marble surface with sharp triangular edges. He wondered what a temple was doing in a city that was known to be free of religion, but he didn’t ask his excitable friend. Zin was in such a happy state, and Ayn didn’t want to disturb him.
As the train raced through the city, it made several stops before Zin got up and motioned to Ayn that it was time to leave. The two halves of the oval door slid open and they exited the train quickly with luggage in tow.
“Where exactly are we going?” Ayn asked, already tuckered out.
“Well,” said Zin as he paused for a moment, scratching above his right eyebrow, “I think we should just head into the artist’s section of the city and see where fate takes us.”
“Fate?” scoffed Ayn. After everything that had happened, he seriously wondered if fate existed. “Aren’t your people scientists?” Ayn said with a hint of sarcasm. “Do you even believe in the concept of fate?”
“My people may not,” Zin casually replied, “but I do.”

Uncaged Review

The first book in this SciFi is a great beginning – and if you’ve never read Space Opera or you’ve wanted to and didn’t know where to start, this is a good place to begin. A very nicely thought out world, with quite a cast of characters. The main characters are Ayn and Zin, with Ayn the next savior of his people, like the next Buddah if you will. He’s also intersex, meaning he has both female and male genitalia, and I was wondering where this was going, but in this first book it is more of a coming of age story and coming to terms with his future and this aspect of his character may be left to later editions. The book was slow going the first third of the way through, but the world building and character development is superb.

The plot gets moving when Zin helps Ayn escape danger – and at this point, the reader has slogged through the slow part of the first book in a series often suffers from – the background building and getting the reader up to speed.

Just one negative is the overuse of exclamation points. I don’t feel they gave the emphasis that was intended, more of an irritant. Being the first novel from this author, I can easily shrug it off.
Reviewed by Cyrene

4 Stars

Uncaged Review – An Enlightening Quiche by Eva Pasco with Excerpt

By
Cyrene Olson
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0

An Enlightening Quiche
Eva Pasco
Contemporary

An heirloom quiche recipe and baking rivalry turn up the heat in a Rhode Island mill town rife with secrets and scandals! Misconceptions, misdeeds, and maliciousness wreak havoc on those caught in the crossfire of a tragedy.

Excerpt

From An Enlightening Quiche: Chapter 10 in Entirety

Augusta: “I wish you’d find a good man to settle down with by the time your next one comes around!” The crux of Oncle Emil’s “flirty in your thirties; finished at forty” pronouncement at last year’s milestone birthday fête hit my psyche with the displacement of an earthquake’s aftershock when the forty-first made landfall. Settling down with any one of the misfits I found myself attracted to, while shunning decent enough men like Ray Provost, a ticking time bomb by profession, unsettled those who positioned themselves along the periphery of a gladiatorial arena, helpless to shield me from deep wounds self-inflicted by engaging in morally destructive behavior. Hooking up is one thing. Falling in love with any of the riffraff
I bedded, a dim prospect aligned with descending the rungs of a ladder into an abysmal abyss. Stuck in a holding pattern, I didn’t want to fall in love only to have my heart broken into irretrievable pieces.
Before the spectacle of the upcoming candle blowout took place, during one and the same period of grace leading up to Thanksgiving, a stranger’s downward climb precipitated even more disgraceful conduct which eventually put me in the bad graces of those detrimentally affected by my actions. On my own collision course with destiny, hitting Blackstone’s rock bottom seemed the only way I could ever gain enough insight to navigate through dire straits and orient my moral compass toward beau chemins.
***
According to the National Weather Service, November’s average temperature of 49.6 degrees in the Northeast tied us 2nd place with the topaz months of 1927 and 1948. A lucky break for Marc who got off to a late start lining up estimates for a roof replacement, then deciding to abandon his systematic search midway through the alphabetical list of prospects in favor of hiring the A team comprised of a scruffy, hungry-for-work, two-man band of brothers who billed themselves as “Above the Rest Roofies.” A price quote and handyman pitch in laymen terms convinced Marc a Tremont roof over our heads would keep us dry for many years to come.
Undistracted and undaunted by my serial yawns of boredom induced from having reached a saturation point on the subject of roofs, Marc continued his monologue despite my detachment. “Ignorance or lack of proper workmanship eventually causes the gravel to be moved or removed from the tarpaper, exposing the roof to the elements so that over time water gets in. I’ve been assured they’re going to use a tarpaper variant where gravel is applied to the hot tar during the manufacturing process, forming a permanent layer to give the roof ongoing protection. Not bad, eh?”
“Oui oui.” I muttered Beauchemins’ equivalent of “uh huh.” My lack of enthusiasm merited one of Marc’s noogies to my head before he left the office to oversee printing and binding operations.
Ouais! Yeah! Our banner November ranked second amongst the warmest in recorded history, going as far back to the late 1800s when the first roof insulated the newly constructed building known as American Voyager Luggage. Forwarding fast to Brulé Bookbinding, a few roofs later, I’ll relate straightaway how atmospheric conditions struck at the heart of matters due to a gift horse of 68-degree, sunny weather on a Thursday which reigned in holy terror.
***
Marc hadn’t bargained for the two-man band of brothers blaring hard rock from a boom box up on the roo-oo-oof, a trouble-proof paradise where their cares may have drifted into space, while the rumble of guitar riffs menaced those who occupied the world below— namely moi! Most days Marc took refuge inside the belly of the mill, preferring the steady onslaught of noise produced by cacophonous machinery for hours on end. Or, he’d barricade himself within the vault of the restoration room, a sanctified humidor for a cloistered bunch who restored and rebound rare books.
A glutton for auditory punishment, I managed to overcome my struggle against friction and opened the oversized office window halfway to take advantage of the afternoon’s unseasonal balminess. As a consequence of fulcrum’s folly, several attempts to schedule new work orders proved futile while mentally battling a barrage of riffs from “Smoke on the Water.” Daaah daaah daaah …!
Amazingly, a piercing cry of agony could be heard above Deep Purple’s smoke screen, alarming one of the bros to kill the deafening decibels. A salvo of expletives rife with obscenities ripped through the air, zooming in one ear and out the other, kicking off a visual with potential to set my loins on fire if executed in slow motion. Timing may be everything, but so is tempo when it comes to priming one’s libido for ribald, raunchy sex! Strange, what a woman’s desire can influence her to fantasize through envisioning a wicked game of trailing an ice cube from sternum to steel-panel abs on a select male!
Rhythmic fluctuations of high voltage ping-ponging throughout my brain created a rapid-fire pulsation whenever I mobilized the memory of a midday descent from a rooftop as a slow tango, in stark contrast to the slapstick antics of a beau jester frenetically fleeing his assailant and hell-bent on making a beeline for temporary asylum in my office. Forever committing his magnum force to memory, I’ll begin with the first tantalizing increment of a roofer’s rush to the ground along the rungs of a stabilizing, extension ladder.
His boots, worn and rugged as the man who slipped inside them. Those leather work boots portended a toughened and wizened individual who blazed the less-traveled roads in life, slogging through mud and trampling over brushwood, incurring abrasive scrapes and scratches, yet emerging a formidable survivor for having endured and overcome setbacks along a precarious journey.
Thighs tightly squeezed inside the loincloth of washed-out denim jeans emphasized lean musculature chiseled from daily exertion on limbs attached to a man who manually labored and belabored on a rooftop dawn to dusk. Licensed, reliable, and you betchya— affordable, after shooting himself in the foot by undercutting prices to get a leg up on competitors all vying for their place in the sun. Then, paying through the roof for general liability insurance in order to improve his rating in procuring work for a client base who wouldn’t consider job bids otherwise. Sky-high thighs couldn’t afford to be riddled with arthritis or sustain injury on the job if the man connected to them intended to support a family and supply its daily bread. What about health insurance? At skyscraping prices, not likely, unless covered under a spouse’s plan, depending on costs for deductibles or co-pays. Amen.
Furthering along the rungway, the full monty slide progressed to a fit n’ trim torso which no tool belt could disguise. Since roofing demands physical strength to lift and lug heavy materials, the muscles along his equatorial region were terra firma, imploring me to speculate if I could bounce a quarter off of his solar plexus as well as his gluteus maximus. Curiosity in conjunction with lacking the psychological acumen to delay gratification creates a lethal combination where I’m concerned.
Eye movement proceeded up, up, and away from the flyway to the byway of biceps on sinewy upper arms sun-bronzed and bulging from the tightness of his grip on the side rails of the ladder as he shimmied closer to ground level. This cat on a hot tin roof sheathed inside a frayed, faded T-shirt stained with perspiration harbored no fat! Lean and agile, though far from fragile, and nimble without a quibble, this roofer achieved peak performance with every mount. Double entendre, intended! Seducing and inducing me to believe the counterpoise necessary for navigating slope transferred an ability to shoulder responsibility in juggling the onslaught of lemons life hurled at him.
Having progressed this far along my voyeuristic excursion of roofer madness, the cumulative effect from each salacious revelation built a sexual tension which would either downgrade to a fizzle or escalate to a frenzy, hinging upon my reaction the first time ever I saw his face for determining whether the sun rose or froze in his eyes. Turn-on or turn-off? That is the salient, silent, theatrical question posed by two people who find themselves thrust together on a make-do stage paired inside a theater of the round, oblong, square, oval, or heart-shaped for that matter.
The locale of such meetings proves incidental and inconsequential as does an inspection of each facial feature, separate and apart from its composite effect, better discerned by a holistic approach when scaling the topographical canvas of configurative physiognomy. Circumstances behind the downslide decreed and decried the parameters of our face-off when the eagle landed on turf in front of my window, panting in sheer terror and barely managing to issue a disarming call to armament.
“Call 911! I’ve been stung by a yellow jacket! Could lose consciousness under ten minutes from … allergic reac …”
***
A surge of adrenalin ramped up my retreat from the window, inciting a mad dash to the fridge for Blanche’s EpiPen. Frantic pounding on the outside door initiated an abrupt turnaround where I practically fell flat on my face from the disorientation of spinning my heels to unlock and open it. A race against time staged a comedy of errors fueled by trauma on the other side of the heavy metal conduit to safety. Both of us dispensing with formal introductions, I grabbed him by the arm and led him to my desk chair where shoving him onto the seat nearly caused an overturn.
I rushed back to the fridge, and while rummaging its interior for the elusive pen, he rolled up to me, inches from my derriere, primed for a confrontation undoubtedly ripe with derisive accusations as to what I was doing on my hands and knees when I should be phoning in a medical emergency. Voila! Concealed behind Charlemagne’s yogurt army. Forearmed, I stood up and towered over a cornered rat. Before he could vent aggression, I took high aim and jabbed the EpiPen into his outer thigh with all my might to make sure I penetrated denim’s tough hide and made contact with flesh.
A split second of bewilderment gave me the chance to step back out of harm’s way, fearful he’d slug me in retaliation for the pain I’d inflicted, then top it off by adding insult to injury. Shock mutated into agony verbalized as a savage groan while he grasped the shiverme-timbers, wooden side arms to buck up.
Rooted in fear from a precarious predicament of raising the hackles on a surly beast, I braced myself for the seething rage about to spew. Cued by the grotesque transfiguration of lips contorted into a snarl, and teeth clenched for conveying vehemence, I fortified my psyche to withstand any unscripted insult he might add to my injurious jab. “You’re deranged and oughta be locked up in a psycho ward! I’ll be lucky if I can walk outta here!”
He couldn’t. He stood, but complained of feeling faint and collapsed onto the seat’s unforgiving surface I never had the prescience to soften with a chair pad.
Dizziness! Blanche’s one-time tutorial, more of a fire-and-brimstone homily before a congregation on coffee break, prophesied the deadly sins of bee stings. One of them, lightheadedness, or a sharp drop in blood pressure. Another, a red rash spreading beyond the sting site, his easily discernible as a tumescent lump on the side of his neck, and most definitely red-flagged. Two symptoms too many!
Severe allergic reactions aside, Blanche instilled the fear of God in her flock when she impressed upon us the thirty-second margin for removing the stinger to prevent any more bee venom from entering the bloodstream, and further cautioned first responders not to pull out that sucker. Scraping it with a stiff-edged object, or fingernail if need be, would inhibit releasing more toxins into the skin. Time and tide wait for no man. Seconds had trespassed into minutes since he sounded his own alarm. Coûte que coûte, as in hook or by crook, I had to make it snappy. Que ça saute!
Ransacking the top drawer of my desk and spilling much of its contents onto the floor during the search, I made a split-second judgment call for Bic to do the trick and pried the pen cap loose with my teeth. The element of surprise attack no longer a viable option, I banked on power of persuasion to convince the crumpled mass slumped forward in a heap of my target objective to approach his jugular with a cap clip. Offering no resistance, he wearily nodded his consent.
Frazzled but belatedly pressed to depress the 911 phone pistons as a last resort after an expenditure of energy void of coordination, I bit my lower lip in trepidation, pondering whether his family might initiate a civil action suit by filing a wrongful death claim stemming from my negligence to engage an emergency service tout de suite.
I never completed the push button triad, prevented from doing so when Tremont no. 2 burst into the office, facilitated by my overt neglect to lock the door behind me when I admitted Tremont no. 1. The stockier, more clean-shaven half of the brotherhood, who unceremoniously introduced himself as Ashe, suspiciously eyed the phone receiver in my hand, and voiced his irritability by insinuating I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.
“Hang it up!” Startled, I dropped the receiver which dangled by its cord over the desk, emitting an off-hook quad frequency demanding an urgent smack down on the cradle. “My brother doesn’t know you saved my life by nearly stabbing me to death! I’m Gabe, by the way.”
Analogous to calling a truce on a bloody battlefield, he proffered a handshake. Brief as the interlude may have been for me to reciprocate an introduction, the warmth and might of his clutch felt like the laying on of hands to incite a primeval, Pentecostal uprising deep from within. Sing Gabe’s praises to the skies! Long, lean fingers coveted my hand in a grasp sending telepathic shock waves via my cutaneous receptors. Bare-handed bandying put a hold on flesh rough to the touch on its posterior surface and smoothly callused on the palm.
The second tier of ripples emanating from this out-of-body experience intensified from a bemused grin overlaid during the shake. In the aftermath, the eyes had it! Heavy-lidded browns exercised their optimal, optical power of illusion to undress their subject in effigy by leaving nothing unaddressed. The last vestiges of reserve and resolve dissolved under his scrutiny, affecting my voice to falter in a falsetto, audibly foreign to my own ears, dubbed as an unnaturally, high-pitched wail of a banshee. “Your hide was saved today on account of an employee prone to severe allergic reactions from bee stings keeps her spare EpiPen in the fridge.”
Ashe grabbed one of those paisley honker hankies the size of a bandanna from his back pocket and wiped sweat off his brow, conceding relief his kid brother wasn’t a gonner from fumbling with his own EpiPen and dropping it on the weed-infested ground, nowhere to be found. He helped his brother up on his feet, resolute in driving him posthaste to Landmark Emergency in Woonsocket for follow up medical care in case the dosage wasn’t enough to reverse his allergic reaction. “Second close call, hey, bro? Maybe now you’ll consider those
allergy shots.”
Woozy from a prolapsed adrenalin rush, I collapsed onto the swivel chair’s hard- knocked surface to recuperate and gather my wits before collecting desk debris scattered in every direction. A blade named Gabe tarried a fleeting moment by the open door, the gleam in his brooding browns once again ascertaining the pull of our animal magnetism. “Tell that lady I owe her one.”
Mon Dieu! Ephemeral traces of Gabe Tremont lingered after he disappeared from view. The seat radiated his body heat. The signature muskiness of his perspiration hovered as an aphrodisiacal cloud nine committed to my olfactory memory. Intoxicated by his pheromones, I closed my eyes to siphon his image in the residue of energy he’d left behind, envisioning his shaggy locks heavily dispersed with gray. His face shadowed in stubble, chiseled lean, browbeaten to a leathery tan by the relentless assault of the elements; lines permanently etched from having passed the focal point of fifty—my judgment call. His visage, a passageway to reach his soul, entreated me to stroke his cheek and trail my index finger along his lips to silence them in readiness for a kiss.
The sexual tension which certainly would have erupted in erotic spasms subsided out of sheer necessity for me to take leave of my senses and leap from my chair to find Blanche, hereby rendered defenseless against a venomous mortal enemy without her antidote.
By the time twilight’s dark shadows encroached, Jacasseuse pollinated the air with gossip about her heroic action as a silent benefactor. The prattle even permeated the sheltered restoration room by ricochet. Bridgie Doyenne, who ran into Blanche on her way back from squatting over the lone porcelain throne inside the tight quarters of our unisex lavatory, smoked Marc out of hiding in the restoration room. Eager for the scoop from a primary source, he hurried back to our office where he discovered me crawling on all fours gathering debris strewn helter-skelter.
Poor choice of words perhaps, but, stooping to my level, he crawled alongside me, shoulder to shoulder, helping to reclaim sundries while ingesting the perilous facts. Peering into his eyes, magnified by the lenses of tortoise shell rims, the placidity of those ocean blues induced me to buckle under and surrender tears which gave way to convulsive sobs. He put his arms around me, lending a shoulder to cushion my distress. When the tide ebbed, he dried my tears with his handkerchief, and led me to my chair where I collapsed like a ragdoll.
At Marc’s insistence, I sipped a glass of orange juice he’d poured. Too weak to refuse his
ultimatum, I let him drive me home.
Faster than a yellow jacket’s flight in search of another poor sap, news of the rescue had spread throughout Beauchemins by the time Marc deposited me curbside in front of the Marchands’ abode. Dragging my hindquarters up the porch stairs in an altered state, Yolande opened her door, stifling a gasp at my expense. She thwarted my hasty retreat to crash by redirecting me to have dinner with her and Norm, then admonishing me to get to bed soon afterward. “Sacre bleu de Tabarnak! Some reaction you had!”

Uncaged Review: This was a hard book for me to really get into and enjoy. Although the book is really well written with engaging characters and storyline, the word play, the puns, and the descriptions were very distracting for me and disrupted the flow of the story. The Canadian-French connection in the book is a bit lost on me – so that is a connection I never made. This is also written in the first person narrative and switches between the main characters – which worked fine, but within those narratives, it almost felt like it would switch to second person for a paragraph or so. Intelligent writing? Yes. But for me, it was like a roast that was left in the oven just a few minutes too long. But once you get used to the writing style, you’ll find an original and engaging story that leaps over its own hurdles.

With all that said, if you can get beyond those aspects, you’ll find a very original storyline with strong women and life in this small town. Between saving the local mill and the quiche bake-off, you will find friendship, betrayal and skeletons in closets with mysteries you are eager to solve. Reviewed by Cyrene

4 1/2 Stars

Uncaged Review – A Tale of a Rough Diamond by P.J. Mann with Excerpt

By
Cyrene Olson
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0

A Tale of a Rough Diamond
P.J. Mann
Suspense

Not all that glitters is diamond; sometimes it is only glass. But even its sharp edges will never hurt you like family.
Stephan is living a life every teenager would envy. Son of a wealthy businessman, he lives carefree and carelessly. However, nothing is as it seems, and his perfect life is doomed; it has been since before he was even born. Days thrill-seeking, nights lock-picking; it’s all just about to fall apart.
His older brother has uncovered a secret. For all their years together, Roger has envied Stephan’s life, his success, the attention he has from their father, but now Roger can wait no longer; this is the moment, the moment he can hurt Stephan the most, when he can turn Stephan’s choices against him, tear apart everything he cherishes, and steal away his future.
With secrecy and the resources of the Russian Mafia on his side, the older Mills brother effortlessly brings Stephan’s world down around him, a single tip-off to the police burying him under the ruins of his former life.
After a year behind bars, Stephan seems to have no hope, no future. Cut off even from the rest of his family, can he reclaim his life and freedom, or will he sink still lower? Will his years of petty crime damn him, or will they be enough to help him fight back?
And will he have to do it alone?

Excerpt

1. STEPHAN MILLS

The hall was immersed in darkness, with only the buzzing sound of the air-conditioning system and his heartbeat breaking the silence. He sneaked from a secondary road to the basement where, according to the information he could gather about the security system of the building, no surveillance cameras were installed.
He studied the blueprints in detail. Every single corner, from the basement to the parking hall, and from the emergency stairs to the floor corridor, was taken into account. However, he felt uncomfortably nervous, as he was rightly aware that surprises were not to be underestimated; flats in residential areas were well-watched by surveillance cameras. And for a reason, he thought, smiling.
He took a deep breath and covered his face whilst walking along the shadow zones of the cameras in the parking hall, towards the emergency stairs. He opened the door to the stairwell and started to climb.
His target was the fifth floor. If the information he’d got from J. was right, at Flat number 306 he should find an empty apartment. Empty of the owner, and soon empty of all the things he would be stealing from there. He felt the adrenaline rush streaming inside his body.
Third floor. He stopped and took another deep breath, allowing his heart to regain the pace.
Fourth floor. He was almost there. He felt his mouth dry.
Fifth floor. He remained still for a moment to regain his breath. Then he opened the door leading out to the corridor. It would remain in darkness for a few minutes, just enough time for him to get inside the apartment.
He walked to his target, silent as the shadows, unseen and unheard by the other inhabitants of the floor, and finally to Flat 306. His daily El Dorado.
He carefully examined the lock of the door and shook his head. The further technology advances, the easier it gets, he thought happily, singing in his mind.
He was a burglar and a fairly skilled one, too. Well, surely skilled, but lucky… not quite. His misfortune put him in jail on a regular basis.
There were times, in the past, when he had never thought this would become his life; and, if he had to be honest, he didn’t much enjoy it. He wanted to have an honest and steady job, to make a life. He wanted to be like all the people he robbed… Normal.
Once, when he was still a kid, he used to introduce himself to other people’s apartments just for the sake of it. Then, later, it became a necessity, the only way to survive for various reasons; all aliens from his real will. But, perhaps it was what he truly deserved, and he should have stopped thinking of himself as a victim? He shook his head.
Everything started the day he was born, the day that he, sometimes, regretted the most. For, from that day on, he had to learn that the person he yearned to call Mom was not willing to be his mother at all, but rather his brother’s Mom.
He was born into a fairly rich family as Stephan Mills. His father, Jonathan Mills, was in the timber business and co-owned, with his brothers, a well-known family firm that exported raw material all over the States.
Jonathan was aware of the difficult relationship between his wife and their son, so he tried as much as possible to compensate, with his attentions, the lack of motherly love his son should have received from her. However, that was not enough for Stephan; he yearned desperately for his mother’s love, the same love that was reserved exclusively for his brother.
Her behavior didn’t fit with those of the other mothers of the kids at school, and Stephan felt jealous of them all. His older brother, Roger, didn’t seem to have a lot of sympathy towards him, but mostly he thought it was just because of the difference in age. Roger was five years older than Stephan, so they didn’t have many opportunities to share the same interests.
They were, moreover, decidedly different in character as in aspect. Stephan was shorter but strong-built, dark-haired and brown-eyed. His skin was a healthy tanned brown, all year round. Roger, on the other hand, was extremely thin and delicate. His pale skin gave him a sort of melancholic, peaky look that raised, more than once, the concern of his parents.
Even though he was surrounded by the love of both his mom and dad, Roger always felt jealous of Stephan. He felt that his younger brother’s presence took away from him part of his father’s affection that, otherwise, would have been destined for him.
For this reason, Roger devoted his life to a single purpose: to destroy the image of Stephan in front of his father’s eyes, and so reclaim what was originally meant to be intended only for him. He didn’t know how he would achieve his goal, but he was sure that, sooner or later, he would find the way.
Years passed by and, even from elementary school, one could have probably forecasted the kind of characters the two brothers would have developed when they reached adulthood. Roger was an obedient and calm boy; he would get only the best grades at school so as to make his parents proud of him. Stephan, on the other hand, was more interested in looking for trouble rather than studying; being averse to any kind of rule or regulation, he often ended up in detention.
“Look at yourself, Stephan,” his father said as he picked him up from the umpteenth detention. “What can I do to make you understand that rules are made to be followed? That they are not made only for people like your brother? Why can’t you be more like him?”
“I’m sorry, Dad. But this time it was not my fault, honest,” Stephan replied, trying to explain the reason why he always seemed to end up in trouble. He knew already that, this time, he wouldn’t be able to escape the punishment waiting for him.
“Oh, so you are going to tell me that it wasn’t you who was caught damaging the rector’s car?” his father asked impatiently, although curious to see what kind of excuse his son would come up with this time.
“Yes, but you see… they put me in…” Stephan tried to explain, being sure that his fate was already decided.
“I see,” his father said. “They must have forced you, so you couldn’t escape. Then, as soon as the guard saw you, your friends untied you, so that you could get all the blame. Isn’t that so?”
“No, but…” Stephan didn’t quite know how to explain to his dad that, if he had refused, he would have been considered a loser.
“Then everything is clear, and you are grounded… for a month,” his father replied seriously.
“A month? Oh man!” said Stephan, upset.
He felt terribly annoyed about the punishment. However, he knew that, somehow, he deserved it.
It was like in that book he was reading; he didn’t get the meaning before, but now it was clear. What was the title? He tried to remember. At, that was it! Crime and Punishment, or something like that.
He realized how stupid he had been, to follow what his friends told him to do; he must have looked like an idiot. And, at that moment, whatever looked cool before, became suddenly foolish. They just played him at their whim; they knew he didn’t like to be compared to his brother, that he would have done anything so as not to be considered a loser.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” he said, turning his head down. “You’re right, I should have thought of the consequences.”
“Apologizing is not actually fixing things up, you know,” said Roger smugly, overhearing the conversation. “You have to learn how to behave in a civilized society.”
“Oh, shut up, you!” Stephan replied. He already felt stupid enough, without him to rub it in.
“Stephan! You are not allowed to speak to your brother like that, especially when he is right. Apologize immediately to him,” his father said, raising the tone of his voice.
“I didn’t mean to be rude to you,” said Stephan. “I was just feeling upset.” He turned his face to his brother, who was sitting in the back seat of the car.
Roger smiled victoriously. “Apologies accepted. But you should learn to understand the difference between right and wrong, or soon you will find yourself in bigger trouble,” he replied.

That wouldn’t have been the first, nor the last, time that Stephan was caught doing something wrong. School was mostly too boring for his lively character, and he was sure that the teachers couldn’t understand him. So, the only way to escape the boredom was to hang around, during the recess and after school, with his friends, who shared the same problem; they wanted more than to sit on a chair for hours learning something about grammar, maths and uninteresting things like that.
The event, which started up the definitive rupture between him and his family, took place one summer’s night. Everyone was sleeping at home, when the telephone rang.
Jonathan Mills reached for the bedside table and finally got the phone.
“Hello…?” he answered, almost whispering, looking at his wife sleeping peacefully at his side.
“Mr. Jonathan Mills?” a voice asked.
“Yes, that’s me… Who’s there?” he asked, standing up from bed and walking out of the room.
“This is Officer O’Connell. We have arrested your son, Stephan Mills, as he broke into an apartment with the intention to rob it. He should have called you himself, but we can’t calm him down. I guess he is pretty scared. Anyway, he is in our custody and soon will be debriefed. You might want to come and take him home, but he will have to face trial.”
Jonathan simply stared into the phone. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“In my opinion,” continued the police officer, “since this is the first time he has done anything like this, he won’t be judged severely… probably he will be set a house arrest, or be given over to the social services, particularly if you can afford a good lawyer. I think that you need to have a serious talk with him.”
Jonathan thought that perhaps he was just dreaming. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t understand. You are saying that my son is a burglar and he might go to jail?” He tried to stay calm and to comprehend what was happening.
“I do mean exactly that, Sir,” said O’Connell, lowering the tone of his voice. “I’m sorry; this must be a shock for you.”
“No, well… Yes, I mean… Sure, I will come as soon as I can. Thank you, Officer,” Jonathan replied, hanging up the phone.
He couldn’t believe his ears; why did that boy have to behave like that? What had he done wrong in educating him? His only thoughts as he got dressed were to collect him from the police station.
He was almost at the door when Roger switched on the light. Jonathan looked at him in surprise, like a child who was caught stealing from the candy jar.
“Where are you going, Dad? You look like a thief,” Roger asked, smiling.
“Shh,” whispered Jonathan. “I need to get your brother from the police station. It seems he was caught burglaring a private apartment.”
“He did what?” replied Roger loudly.
“Silence!” hissed Jonathan. “Don’t wake up your mother. Come on, come with me,” and he pushed him out of the door.
“Hey, let me get dressed first,” protested Roger. “I can’t go in pajamas.”
“Okay, but hurry up,” said his father, wiping his forehead with his hand.

“So, what are you going to do?” Roger asked as they were driving to the police station.
“I don’t know,” replied his father. “I honestly have no idea what is going on in your brother’s head, sometimes. He is a sweet and kind boy, but when he comes up against something exciting, his brain stops working. Plus, he is so easily influenced by those friends of his. They are just abusing his ingenuity, to make him do whatever they want.”
“I understand it is none of my business,” said Roger. “But, in my opinion, you should be firm with him, Dad, and perhaps take some drastic decisions. As long as he knows you will unfailingly be there, to cover for his mistakes, he will never learn to be a responsible man, and he will always be at the mercy of people who will use him. Today it’s a robbery, tomorrow you won’t know what it might be.”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” said Jonathan. “Maybe you’re right. But, in my heart, I can’t help but take care of him.”
“But don’t you understand?” replied Roger. “It is just by taking too much care of him, as you say, that you are letting him down. How can he learn if you don’t give him a lesson to remember? What will happen when you won’t be there to help him? You won’t be around forever; you can’t watch over him perpetually. He has to learn how to walk on his own two legs.”
His father remained silent, thinking about what Roger had said, and he had to admit that maybe that was his mistake. He had covered up for Stephan’s mistakes too often, and never let him grow up to face his responsibilities. Roger was right; he knew it. Even if it was difficult, he decided that Stephan would have to take it like a man.
They eventually arrived at the police station. Inside, it was quiet, and the neon lights made the place look more like an old dungeon.
Jonathan walked up to the information desk.
“Good evening,” he said. “Officer O’Connell called me. You have arrested my son, Stephan Mills. May I see him?”
The police officer looked at him and smiled. “Sure, come with me,” he replied. “We finally managed to calm the boy down.” He led them through a corridor and to the room where Stephan was being kept.
As they walked in, Stephan stood up and ran to hug his father. “Dad, please,” he whispered, sobbing desperately. “I’m so scared.”
Jonathan had never seen his son in such a state before, and felt dreadfully sorry for him. However, when he glanced at Roger, he remembered that this time he had to be firmer, for Stephan’s sake.
Jonathan parted from him and slapped him. “You should truly feel ashamed,” he shouted angrily, “just as I am right now. What was the big idea of robbing an apartment? As if you don’t have everything you desire. We can afford to grant you whatever wish you might have. What’s your excuse now? You are eighteen years old, Stephan. You should be able to recognize right from wrong.”
Stephan remained silent. He was dumbfounded by his father’s response, but he knew he was right. He had no reason to act the way he did, apart from the boredom and the need to feel the adrenaline rush.
“Dad…” he said, confused.
“No, this time you are going to listen to me,” his father interrupted. “I don’t want you to say a word. You have gone way too far this time, Stephan, and you are going to pay for it right now.”
Jonathan looked at his son for a moment before continuing. “I am not going to pay to have you released tonight. You will wait in jail for the trial,” he said severely. “Neither am I going to pay for a lawyer to get you out of this mess. You put yourself into this, and you are going to get yourself out and pay the consequences of your stupidity. Maybe then you will learn a valuable lesson.”
Stephan stared at his father in disbelief. “Dad… you can’t leave me here,” he said. “Please, I can explain…”
“What are you going to explain?” replied his father. “I don’t want to hear another word from you. I only hope that you will finally learn to respect the law and act like a civilized adult. I’ll see you when you get out of jail. I expect you to use this time to reflect on your actions and to think about your behavior in the future.” With that, Jonathan turned away to walk out of the room.
“Dad, please, I’d like to exchange some words with my brother,” said Roger. “Can I have some time alone with him?” He looked at his father and then at the police officer.
“I’ll be in the car waiting for you,” Jonathan said to Roger as he exited the room, without looking back.
“Not more than five minutes,” the officer said, closing the door behind him.
When they were finally left alone, Stephan turned his gaze away from the door, and the inquisitorial eyes of Roger, and focused his attention on a hole in the wall.
“So, Stephan, my dear brother…” began Roger sarcastically.
Stephan continued to stare at that hole in the wall. He wished he were small enough to be able to crawl in there and disappear from the world, to be far from his brother, from his mistakes, and from the unbearable feeling of shame.
“Now it is time for you to pay for having intruded in my life,” Roger continued. Stephan looked at him, not quite getting the meaning of what he was saying.
“What do you mean?” he asked, surprised.
“I’ve finally got you exactly where I wanted you,” replied Roger. “Ever since you were born, you have been stealing the attention of Dad away from me. You have constantly been the special one to him, the one to be protected from everything. Instead, I was always the last in line. Now things are going to change. It wasn’t easy to convince Dad to leave you here, for he was determined to bring you home, and have a serious talk with you.”
Roger paused and looked at his brother coldly.
“He would have paid for the best lawyer money could buy,” he went on. “It was by luck that I caught him as he was going out of the house. I convinced him that the only way to help you would be to leave you here. Now that you are going to be far away for quite some time, I will have time to convince him to cast you away from our family. You have brought shame on all of us. You have ruined the good name of the entire family! How could you?”
Stephan looked at his brother in shock. He didn’t know what to say.
“Well, brother,” said Roger, “I guess my time is ticking away. I will have to leave you soon.”
“Roger,” replied Stephan, “please, what is going on? Why are you doing this to me?” He was in tears.
“Because I hate you,” spat Roger. “You don’t deserve to be part of our family.”
“This cannot happen,” said Stephan, confused. “It must be a dream, but…” He was not quite sure what to say.
“But what?” replied Roger. “You still don’t get it. Are you seriously that stupid? Look at yourself; do you actually think that, after this scandal, Dad will welcome you back into our family as if nothing has happened? I will make sure there is no place left for you there.”
Stephan knew that his brother was somehow right; he took for granted too many things in his life, and now he had probably lost everything he’d had – his family, his home. Everything was gone, because of his stupidity. He then wondered what would happen if the police found out it was not the first robbery in which he’d participated.
He began to panic. He had no idea what was going to happen to him from that day on. However, there was one thing he did know for sure, and that was that he was alone.
Stephan wondered how much time he would have to spend in jail, and what would happen to him there. Could he still hope for house arrest instead?
“Please Roger, don’t destroy my life,” he begged. “What do you want from me? What should I do?”
“I want you out of my life,” replied Roger angrily, “and there’s nothing you can do about it. Now I’ll return home. Good night and sweet dreams, brother.” He laughed as he walked out from the room, leaving Stephan alone.
Stephan sat on the bench, without any strength left in his body. He wanted to rewind all his life and rewrite it from the beginning, deleting all the moments he had disappointed his father, all the times he’d let himself be misguided by his so-called friends just to be “cool”. Thinking about it, at that moment the only word that came into his mind was “loser”. He wanted so badly to be back in his own home, in his bed, where he could finally feel safe.

Uncaged Review

A nicely done suspense, that keeps you guessing. For me, this book started a tad too slow and didn’t really catch me very quickly, but don’t be put off by that – it does become much more intriguing and engaging. As a teenager, Stephan has a good life, but he’s always pushing the boundaries. Finally, he ends up in prison, and his father refuses to bail him out this time, mainly because his brother convinces his father that Stephan needs to learn his lessons. Heartbreaking for both Stephan and his father.

The very long first chapter deals mostly with Stephan in jail and how he comes to terms with his life. There is a nice twist to the story that I did guess in part, but the author did a good job getting me to feel empathy for Stephan, and although he was on the wrong path and did deserve some of his punishment, you’ll want to seek revenge of your own on his brother.

Some of the wording is a bit stiff, but all in all, it was an enjoyable read. Reviewed by Cyrene

4 Stars

Uncaged Review – I Am Terry Walker by Skye Andrews

By
Cyrene Olson
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0

I Am Terry Walker
Skye Andrews
Horror/Fiction/Serial Killer

I Am Terry Walker is about a serial killer who uses torture methods to kill his victims. For two decades, he remained anonymous. This is his story.

Uncaged Review: This book reads as a journal with date by date accounts of his victims, and it jumps into the thoughts of a serial killer, his thoughts and his own warped reasoning on the different ways he kills his victims. This book does not hold back, and it’s not recommended for the squeamish. It’s one of those books you don’t really want to read, but you can’t put it down either. I don’t think I’ll even ask where the author got their information on some of the torture methods, as there were quite a few I never heard of before. This isn’t a long book – but it’s a sick look into the mind of a very sick man. Reviewed by Cyrene

5 Stars

Uncaged Review – The Reluctant Wife by Caroline Warfield

By
Cyrene Olson
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0

The Reluctant Wife
Caroline Warfield
Historical Regency

Captain Fred Wheatly’s comfortable life on the fringes of Bengal comes crashing down around him when his mistress dies, leaving him with two children he never expected to have to raise. When he chooses justice over army regulations, he’s forced to resign his position, leaving him with no way to support his unexpected family. He’s already had enough failures in his life. The last thing he needs is an attractive, interfering woman bedeviling his steps, reminding him of his duties…

Uncaged Review: The first page starts with a lot of action we are introduced to Fred who learns he has two daughters to care for now. As their mother has suddenly died. A witness to this is Claire, who was hoping to speak to her brother Philip who is Fred’s Major in the army. Claire and Fred find themselves thrown into traveling together, which will hold many problems for them both. I really enjoyed this book it was filled with alot of action and suspense. Enough to keep the readers on their toes. I’m looking forward to reading the next book by this author. Reviewed by Jennifer

4 Stars

Uncaged Review – Inception by Bianca Scardoni

By
Cyrene Olson
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0

Inception
Bianca Scardoni
Young Adult/Paranormal

My name is Jemma Blackburn and I have a secret. I know vampires are real. I watched one murder my father eight months ago, and even though they tried to convince me it didn’t happen—that I’d lost touch with reality due to the trauma, I know what I saw was real…

Uncaged Review: This is a terrific page turner, and touted as a new adult/paranormal – but also it’s in the category of Childrens – and I would definitely not go that route – new/young adult is okay. The twists and turns that this book takes you on, will have you screaming. There were times I didn’t even like Jemma as she acted a bit too childish, and other times I was on her bandwagon – but I was always engaged. The other characters are also engaging, but trust me, you’ll want to go after a couple of them yourself when this is over. I finished this book in one day, and when a book grabs me that well, it’s a winner. There are three books in this series out now, and a fourth slated soon, but with over 500 reviews on Amazon, I had to see what the fuss was about and it didn’t disappoint. Reviewed by Cyrene

5 Stars

Uncaged Review – She by David Kummer

By
Cyrene Olson
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0

She
David Kummer
Young Adult/Thriller

It’s been twenty years since the children went missing. Everybody has forgotten. They always do. And now, they’ll regret it.

Hardy is a sleepy town on the river. In 1995, it’s nothing special. Nobody pays attention to it. Nobody thinks about the woods nearby. But something comes out of them. It watches. It takes. It kills.

Michael is a teenager, enjoying his summer. His friends, his little sister, and his community feel the excitement building. That all changes in one night. The kidnappings… are back.

Uncaged Review: The first book wrote by this young author who is off to a promising start.

“She” is a old woman who takes kids every 20 years. Some describe her as a witch. Others look at her as a scary tale to tell the kids. If you see her you can bet your life she’s watching you. Life will never be the same again for a group of friends after they encounter She. I really enjoyed this book it wasn’t in your face horror, more psychological horror – the kind that gives you the creeps. I found myself wanting to find out even more history that concerns She. This book would make a great film or tv drama. Can’t wait until book 2 – this author is someone to keep a eye on.
Reviewed by Jennifer

4 Stars

Uncaged Review – Seasons by Iesha S. Walker

By
Cyrene Olson
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0

Seasons
Iesha S. Walker
Romantic Erotica

Troy Delaney has spent her dating years compartmentalizing the men in her life. Men were necessary, but interchangeable. Troy never felt the need to settle down or foster real connections with men. Men were necessary because “Like the four seasons each one of them served a purpose” in her life. Men were interchangeable because if they failed to fulfill their purpose they could be replaced by the next man who could.

Uncaged Review: A prospective story on life dramas and the struggle of finding love. Troy isn’t the type of girl to just settle with one guy. She likes four guys like the seasons of the year. So she will never be hurt or really have to commit to a guy. But when a tragic acident changes the way Troy views life, she may just never be the same. I really liked this book. As Troy is the type of girl that you feel could be you. Her emotions and fears are real and you can feel them on the page. I found myself caring about Troy and wishing her to find a happy ending. The pleasent thing about this book is it deals with a lot of issues surrounding females. Can’t wait to see what this Author brings out next.. Reviewed by Jennifer

4 Stars

Uncaged Review – Love and the Shameless Lady by Barbara Monahem

By
Cyrene Olson
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0

Love and the Shameless Lady
Barbara Monahem
Historical Regency

Disgraced lady Daisy Warren serves ale in a tumbledown inn, sings crude songs for the smugglers, and writes romantic novels in her spare time. Shunned by her own class, she’s resigned to her lowly life—until someone tries to kill her.
Gentleman spy Sir Julian Kerr noses out seditionists and traitors. When he visits the inn to investigate two suspicious Frenchmen, he meets the lovely but hostile Daisy. He doesn’t intend to get involved with her—but then he learns that someone is threatening her life.
He wants to find out more—it’s part of his investigation.
He wants to protect her—he’s a chivalrous man.
He wants her.
But will Daisy’s bitter past allow her to risk love again?

Uncaged Review: This is the first book I’ve read from this author, and I am happy to report, I hope it won’t be my last. This is an engaging regency, with the heroine committing all types of faus paux in the era, from having sex before marriage, to writing racy novels. Being shunned by society, Daisy works at a pub, slinging ale and food to unsavory types. Enter Julian – who takes an interest in Daisy and can’t get her off his mind. But Julian also has secrets…

Suspense, romance, likeable characters and a couple nice plot twists give this original regency a bit of zest. The danger to Daisy’s life throws both Julian and Daisy together, and we watch a slow brewing romance. Recommended. Reviewed by Cyrene

4 1/2 Stars

Uncaged Review – Zombie Virus by Samuel T. Raven

By
Cyrene Olson
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0

Zombie Virus
Samuel T. Raven
Young Adult/SciFi/Horror

Ben excels in the stupidity department, however, he fancies an intelligent girl, Charlie, but she’s not interested. She prefers boys who can hold up a decent level of intellectual conversation. When Ben finds a drug that may increase his intellect, he takes it, hoping this will open to the door to Charlie’s heart. However, this has disastrous consequences as the virus adapts, causing widespread disease. The only thing that stands between it and the complete annihilation of mankind is a time traveler from the future who only has limited interaction with the present. Can this time traveler help prevent the end of days for humanity whilst at the same time help Ben find true love?

Uncaged Review: Part 1 in a 6 part series follows Ben and Alex, best friends at college. Ben has a crush on a girl called Charlie and is desperate for her to notice him. He takes some important vials from a science centre trip which nearly brings about a zombie outbreak. Ben does have some tricks up his sleeve to help try and end this. I really liked this book the first half felt a little rushed like the author was trying to fit massive amounts of plot into a short book. Towards the second half of the book it was very action packed and full of zombie fun. Of course it ends in a cliffhanger and I’m desperate to see what happens next. Reviewed by Jennifer

4 Stars

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