#Bookreview: Strength #fantasy #book

This is a special post I do once a month to highlight a book I reviewed some time ago, but never actually featured on my blog. Because this is an author blog and not a book blog, I don’t always feature all the books I read. Like all good and dedicated fans of the written word, I do my part and leave reviews on Goodreads.com, Amazon.com, and sometimes other places, but don’t always bring attention to what I’m reading, unless you follow me on YouTube… hint, hint, wink wink 😉 In any case, please enjoy this review of a book I read at some point in my life.


I realize this should be a WIP and or Reading Challenge Update, but… life happens. I’ll have it next Friday. Promise :D.



Title: Strength

Series: Mark of Nexus #1

Author: Carrie Butler

Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance

Pages: 389

Reading Level: Teen Adult

Content: R (violence, brutality, sensuality, sexual content, dark and mature themes, adult situations, suspense)

If only my college experience had been so interesting.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. There were times when I didn’t know exactly where it was going, but it all came together in the end. At no point during reading it was I ever bored, but there were times when I had to really think about what was going on in the story, and I appreciated that. I like that this author made me think as well as entertain me.

This is a new adult story, very realistic and a bit steamy in places, but that’s what college is for. There’s nothing shocking in this story, but is very mature and sophisticated. The heroine isn’t a ditz who doesn’t know how pretty she is, but despite that, when she meets a man who looks like a god, she does drool a bit. Who wouldn’t?

Out of character for me, I fell hard for the strong, brooding, and dark Wallace. Not sure why, but who cares. We soon learn that there’s more to him than his brooding and there’s no doubt that he’s the type of dangerous that you want on your side, perhaps cuddling up with you at night… I digress.

Wallace’s family, not so alluring at first, but I won’t go into that.

Back to the heroine, Rena. I like her. She’s practical and smart. She’s more scared of going to church than she is facing a possible homicidal maniac, but she has her reasons. She also has a great group of friends. I want to say more about this but I don’t know how without giving away something.

This is thrilling from beginning to end. The slow parts add an edge of suspense to an already intense story and the action is amazing to the point where my superhero geek mind was definitely blown. Yes, there is a romance in this story, but it is second to the actual story and action. Got the next two books already.

Recommended to adult readers (teens with parental agreement) who like urban fantasy.

I give this book a 5.

This review has been posted to GoodReads.

If you’d like to obtain a copy of this book, try this link: Amazon

Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords

#Review: The Legends Saga #paranormal #ya

Sorry for the late post. Life happens its own way no matter how much you plan.


Title:  Crane

Series: The Legends Saga #1

Author: Stacey Rourke

Genre: Paranormal, Retelling

Pages: 298

Reading Level: Adult

Content: PG-13 (violence, adult situations and content, some gore)

This is two stories in one with a dark comical twist… Well, actually two twists.

Ireland Crane just moved to Sleepy Hollow because she couldn’t pass on the opportunity to be associated with the legend of Ichabod… No, not really. I just thought that was a silly coincidence that was going to ruin this book, but it didn’t. Actually, Ireland just broke up with her boyfriend and needed a change so when a job in Sleepy Hollow opened up, it was a chance to escape. Of course, once she gets there, people start dying and old men start waking up in her basement. Enter, Rip Van Winkle.

One thing I’ll say about this story is that it is refreshingly dark and funny. I fell in love with the humor of Stacey Rourke in her Gryphon Series, but this was an entirely different experience. This story is more New Adult than YA, but not filled with a lot of steam. That may be a deterrent for some who feel that New Adult exists only to add more steam to stories.

While I didn’t fall as hard for the first installment of the Legends Saga as I did the Gryphon Series, the story still won my heart. The paranormal elements of this story are right up my alley, and the comedy is just a bonus. The strong female lead, Ireland, is not what I expected which is always a plus for me. She doesn’t start off as a kick-butt character but develops a duality that lets her be the quintessential girly-girl and feme fatal all at once. Kudos to Rourke on the character.

Ireland isn’t the only likable character in this book, but I don’t want to give too much away. A sleepy Rip does steal the show a few times, and have I mentioned the dreamy Noah. Of course, there’s a love interest, but I like that the romance is not the major focus of this story. In fact, as twists go, romance and damsels get mashed up pretty good and I like it. The way the whole curse comes together was original and exciting. The rest of this series is a must read for me.

Recommended to fans of paranormal, myth and fairytale retellings, and dark humor.

I give this book a 4.

This review has been posted to GoodReads.

If you’d like to obtain a copy of this book, try this link: Amazon


Title:  Raven

Series: The Legends Saga #2

Author: Stacey Rourke

Genre: Paranormal, Retelling

Pages: 211

Reading Level: Adult

Content: PG-13 (violence, adult situations and content, gore, mature and dark themes)

I don’t think it’s fair to compare the tale of Ichabod to the fictionalized story of Edgar Allan Poe, but that’s what we’re faced with comparing books 1 and 2 of The Legends Saga. Considering I am rating both books the same, it seems silly to say that I liked the second book more, but I did. However, I think that is mostly the fault of my enthusiasm for Poe. In any case, Rourke has thoroughly entertained me again with Raven, to which I will doubt her nevermore.

I honestly didn’t know where else this story could possibly go, and knowing who’s showing up for the third book, it’s all I can do not to speculate. I can’t wait to be surprised. To say that matters turned darker in this second book is an understatement, but there’s no denying that Ireland is still Ireland. She’s silly, and sweet, and a bit slow at times, but that’s just part of her charm.

As the Hessian, unfortunately, she gets put in her place when the scorned love of Poe turns out to be much more powerful. Let’s face it; while revenge and rage are powerful forces, love is the ruler of all. As if being the Hessian wasn’t enough to put a strain on Ireland and Noah’s relationship, the handsome Ridley shows up just having to be the missing key to resolving Poe’s century-old relationship issues.  Just as in the first book, life and death are a delicate balance held together or torn apart by love.

This story is much darker than the first, but it didn’t turn me away. Even through all the darkness and death in this book, there was room for quite a few laughs. An addition to the second book, not experience in the first, at least for me, was also a sense of sorrow. Rourke really dug deep and offered a gambit of emotions and experiences for her readers.

Recommended to teen and adult readers; fans of paranormal, Poe, and other twisted retellings.

I give this book a 4.

This review has been posted to GoodReads.

If you’d like to obtain a copy of this book, try this link: Amazon


 Title: Steam

Series: The Legends Saga #3

Author: Stacey Rourke

Genre: Paranormal, Retelling

Pages: 228

Reading Level: Adult

Content: PG-13 (violence, adult situations and content, gore, mature and dark themes)

I’ll go ahead and admit that I enjoyed this story, but I didn’t like the way this series ended. I probably would have given this final installment of the Legends Saga a 5 rating, had the ending been more resolute. For me, having so many questions at the end leaves me wondering if these characters will pop up again down the road, just as other Rourke characters have. The uncertainty is agonizing… but still; you gotta read this for yourself. It’s totally worth it.

Aside from my issues with the ending, Rourke has managed to awe and amaze me yet again, adding extended depth to her characters and twisting ageless tales in unexpected ways. Steam takes everything to another level. If you snickered in the first two books, you’ll LOL in this one. If you whimpered a bit with the first two books, your heart will ache with this one. There is one scene in particular that actually made me feel a bit of terror, bordering this tale on the edge of horror, but it’s so much more than that.

Book one seemed to focus on conquering demons and finding purpose. Book two seemed to focus on the power and, even danger, of love. Book three is all about the choice to live with hope and the sacrifices one makes to keep hope, and perhaps even love, alive.

In this installment, Ireland and Ripley are joined with a new character who has ties to witchcraft and the story of “The Scarlet Letter”.  This oddball assortment of humans and their supernatural gifts have been gathered together by HG Wells to defeat the greatest evil any of them have ever seen. Even with Well’s ability to travel through time, he knows that even if they win, there will be a price to pay, he just doesn’t know what it is.

If you read the first two, you should definitely read the third and decide for yourself if the ending is or isn’t totally satisfying.

Recommended to teen and adult readers; fans of paranormal, and other twisted retellings.

I give this book a 4.

This review has been posted to GoodReads.

If you’d like a Kindle copy of this book, try this link: Amazon.

Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords

#BooktagsBlogHop No. 3: Strength (Mark of Nexus Book 1) by @CarrieAButler #fantasy #amreading


The purpose of this blog hop is for readers and writers to share what they are reading, have read, are writing, or have written with others. This is not about promoting free or discounted books, though some of those may be featured. This is about book lovers sharing what they love about books. This blog hop is about the Joy of Reading and the Joy of Writing with tags of your choosing and is hosted by me, Toi Thomas, the third Monday of the month. Learn more here.

This month’s optional theme is: Winter, cold, or holidays.

Excerpt from Chapter 7

I stood up and hastily buttoned myself into my purple, clearance-special pea coat. It pleated at the waist and had big, funky buttons down the front. I’d gotten it for thirteen dollars after Christmas and wore it like a victory medal.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and merged into the line for the door. Go, people. I hate loiterers. It’s one thing to have a legitimate reason to hold up the flow of traffic—like, maybe someone is on crutches or something. That’s fine. Well, not for them. It sucks for them. But pausing to have a conversation in the doorway? I blew out an aggravated sigh. Un-accepta-ble.

“A little impatient today?” a smooth voice cut in, interrupting my thoughts.

Was someone talking to me? I cast a quick glance over my shoulders and found a pair of amused brown eyes taking in my every move. My cheeks burned. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”

The guy grinned, studying me like he had some kind of divine insight. Laugh lines creased the corners of his eyes, and his warm gaze smoldered. “And it’s only the first day of class, sweetheart. How are we going to make it through fifteen weeks?”

I blinked. Was this guy for real? Who starts up a conversation like that out of nowhere? I wasn’t shy or anything, but the familiar language was throwing me off. “I guess we’ll have to manage.”

237 words from: Strength (Mark of Nexus #1) © 2013 Carrie Butler

My Thoughts

I’m making a point to get this review posted soon. I just finished this book and really enjoyed it. I will definitely be seeking out the rest of the series. As for why I shared this piece today, there are a few reasons.

1. I think this may be classified as YA, but for me, it has a more New Adult feel to it. The college banter here doesn’t feel as bothersome as what I usually read in YA, which is why I don’t read it much. In any case, much of the story reminds me of my own college experience, which I haven’t often felt when reading stories set in a college scene.

2. This passage goes great with the winter and cold theme for this month. This whole installment of this series takes place in winter and some of the scenes made me cold just reading them.

3. I like the way this character thinks. She’s very down to earth and her inner monolog isn’t annoying.

4. I like the originality of this story. It’s always surprising to me when I come across a story that feels truly unique. It’s hard for stories these days to be completely original, but when a story doesn’t come off cliché and there’s something I haven’t figured out by the end- I’m impressed.

Lastly, this passage is important to me because of how the story plays out at the end of this installment. I figured out something here, but I also completely missed something too. I hope you read it for yourself and see if this scene stands out once you’ve read it.

Find this title at Amazon Goodreads

What are you currently reading? I’d love to know.

Next blog hop post date will be January 18, 2016.

I’ll be setting up a new linky soon and emailing it to past participants. Thank you to those of you who joined me on this journey so far, whether you’re continuing or not.

Be sure to hop around and see what others are reading so you may continue to pile onto your TBR list.

Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords

#BooktagsBlogHop No. 1: Raven by Stacey Rourke @Rourkewrites #paranormal #amreading


The purpose of this blog hop is for readers and writers to share what they are reading, have read, are writing, or have written with others. This is not about promoting free or discounted books, though some of those may be featured. This is about book lovers sharing what they love about books. This blog hop is about the Joy of Reading and the Joy of Writing with tags of your choosing and is hosted by me, Toi Thomas, the third Monday of the month. Learn more here.

This month’s optional theme is: dark, night, or spooky.

Excerpt from Chapter 2

     “Edgar!” his mother called. “It’s time for lunch, my darling.”

     The toddler didn’t respond, but scooted one foot forward. In hopes of rousing the sleeping bird, he poked it gently with the toe of his shoe.

     “Edgar? Where have you hidden, my silly boy? I have berries and cream inside for you.” Mother’s tone was sweeter than the afore mentioned berries, her words slathered in love and adoration.

     Edgar turned towards her voice, even started to straighten and go to her, before temptation’s curling, coiling finger encircled his chin and lured his attention back to those bright blue feathers. With each blink, his impossibly long lashes brushed the tops of his cheeks. The birds high overhead sang such a lovely tune. More than anything he wanted this fallen vocalist to rejoin their choir.

     Extending one finger, stained with dandelion butter and grass, Edgar tenderly stroked the velvety breast of the still creature. To his surprise, the bird gave an involuntary jerk beneath his touch. Through the pad of his finger, Edgar could feel a soft thump begin to beat a steady rhythm within his winged friend. Warmth chased away the cold’s harsh hold. A succession of crackles and pops righted the bird’s twisted neck. Black eyes blinked, focused. Feathers ruffled, the once limp form giving a quick hop, and the bird was on its feet. Its head cocked with an avian twitch, considering the boy crouched over it.

     “Edgar, what have you done?”

     With a hot rush of blood rushing to his cheeks, Edgar whipped around. Mother had never spoken a cross word at him, never looked at him with anything except absolute adoration. Yet, in that moment, she stared at him like a lowly stranger.

286 words from: Raven (Legends Saga Book 2) © 2014 Stacey Rourke

My Thoughts

If you can’t tell what’s happening in this scene, there’s no way I can better describe it for you. I love the way Rourke sets this scene up, so cavalier and natural. This is just another day in this little boy’s life- that is until it isn’t. Even this little tike knows something has shifted, never to be the same again. “Mother had never spoken a cross word at him,” before that day.

This is the second book in the Legends Saga and as soon as I finish it, I’ll be posting my review, along with the long overdue review of Crane, and then start the third book Steam. Even though this scene is perfectly spooky and intricately enticing, I love the fact that the Legends Saga is filled with humor. Just when you’re set on closing the book and seeking out every light source you can find, a hint of comic relief lightens the mood, which is a staple in the works of this author.

Rourke’s YA Fantasy, Gryphon Series, was much the same offering action packed magic battles with a hint of comic relief. I’m really enjoying the more adult nature, of this New Adult, Legends Saga, and think others will like it to. It’s New Adult that doesn’t cross the line into Adult Only- very sophisticated and clever.

Find this title at Amazon | Barnes&Noble | Goodreads

What are you currently reading? I’d love to know.
Next blog hop post date will be November 16, 2015.

Be sure to hop around and see what others are reading so you may continue to pile onto you TBR list. 😉

Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords

House of the Last Man On Earth by @StarStargazer6 Promo Blitz & #Giveaway by @RABTBookTours #sci-fi

Science Fiction
Date Published: April 2015

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Richard Johnson, an average college student, just spent his last dime on food, lost his wealthy girlfriend, and had his bike stolen.  To add to his misery, he returns to his apartment where he runs into his strange neighbor, nicknamed The Ghoul. Convinced that this bizarre man is more than he seems, Richard and his land lady’s bull dog, Khan, sneak into The Ghoul’s apartment where they find a timegate to the future. Along with his set theory teacher and her brother, they embark upon a soaring and treacherous journey through space and time to discover a terrible truth–mankind is being slowly and systematically exterminated.

Mild Violence, No profanity, No sex


I’ve had better Wednesdays.

On Wednesdays, I’m supposed to awaken with the blaring of my alarm clock at seven. I get up, dress quickly, dash to campus, stare at Mrs. Jacklyn in set theory class, fall asleep in Mechanics 1, eat lunch, and study in the afternoon, before ending the day at band practice. For me, that was enough excitement on Wednesdays.

On the seventh Wednesday of the fall term my alarm clock didn’t go off, probably because I had thrown it across the room the day before in a fit of anger.

I was late to my first class. Ordinarily, being late to set theory would not have posed much of a problem, but when I arrived Mrs. Jacklyn was collecting a pop quiz. I hadn’t done very well on her last quiz and I wasn’t likely to do much better on this one.

I slunk into the class. With nothing important to do for a few seconds after finishing the quiz, everyone had time to turn and gawk at me. I wanted to whirl and run, but somehow I found the courage to shrivel into a seat in the back row. What continually cycled through my mind as I tried to disappear was how embarrassing it would be to flunk math, since it was the class in which I wanted to do well. Not because I liked set theory. I hated it, and it wasn’t even required for my major. No, I was in the class for one reason: I was mesmerized by Mrs. Jacklyn, and I had no trouble explaining why. Since reaching puberty, I had always adored tall women, and Mrs. Jacklyn was tall; she’d played volleyball in college, according to rumor, and was an expert in martial arts and weapons. Her slender body, lithe and graceful as a pine tree, was at least an inch taller than my six feet two inches. Her hair was black, as were her eyes, and every time she looked at me with those bottomless eyes I was captured. All she had to do was ask and I would give her anything. Unfortunately, the only thing she ever asked for were my tests, and I was too intimidated to ever speak to her.

Most of the students in the class were afraid of her, but I was both afraid of and in love with her, at least in a theoretical way. After all, I did have a girlfriend, so my dreams of love were tempered by that and Mrs. Jacklyn’s attitude toward me. She was remote and unapproachable, as difficult a goal to achieve as the set theory she was trying to teach me. The look she gave me when I slid into my seat late was cold enough to freeze fire. The look she gave me when I darted out of the class at the end of the period was even colder.

I had an hour between classes, so I rode my bike home to retrieve my Mechanics 1 textbook, which I had forgotten in my rush to find a clean pair of socks that morning. In times like these I was glad I didn’t have a car, since parking on campus was impossible, and I lived too far away to walk home and back even with an hour off. My bike was an old Schwinn five-speed, but it served me well.

Home was a slightly renovated old house a couple of blocks south of Arapahoe and a few blocks west of Broadway, close to a mile from the University of Colorado campus in Boulder. My landlady, Mrs. Lafferty, who was over ninety, had turned her family home into eight apartments. Only two of the apartments had bathrooms; the rest were just bedrooms that shared a common bath.

Two sizes smaller than the other apartments was my closet of a room. Mrs. Lafferty kept telling me it had been her children’s playroom sixty years before, but I wasn’t convinced. It was too small to be anything but a closet. But it was cheap, and with the discount I received for walking Genghis Khan each day, I could almost afford it.

The mail had already come as I panted by; I snatched it off the foyer table, tripped over Khan, regained my footing, and glanced behind me with some anxiety.

Khan had not moved even one drooping lip. I was grateful. The last thing I needed right now was a spoiled brat of a bulldog wanting his walk. Technically, I was supposed to walk him twice a day. Mrs. Lafferty’s right knee had been replaced the month before, and she was still too sore to walk him herself. Even though in general we didn’t get along too well, Khan and I had quickly come to an understanding—most of the time: I would only walk him in the afternoons and he wouldn’t complain about it to his owner. Not that he wanted to; Khan was a fat, ugly registered purebred bulldog who was over seventeen years old. Mrs. Lafferty’s family tree had primarily grown in Hungary and she’d named him after one of her heroes: Genghis Khan, the invader of Hungary. Khan’s belly bounced along the floor as he waddled (he no longer ran) and his lower lip often dragged the ground as he went. It seemed as though I was always pulling a sandspur out of that lip after one of our walks. Because of cataracts he could barely see where he was going, but there was nothing wrong with his nose: he could smell dead food eight blocks away. The deader the better. Four-day-old-squirrel roadkill (still stuck to the road, of course) was his idea of gourmet dining. It was almost impossible for me to pull him away from it even when a truck was rumbling straight at us. Once I had to scrape the squirrel off the road with my fingers and throw it onto the sidewalk to save our lives.

Still, unless Khan smelled some particularly ripe, tasty feast lying somewhere in the neighborhood, he was no more enthusiastic about his walks than I was. Our unspoken arrangement suited both of us just fine.

I examined my mail. The only mail not an ad was a notice from the campus credit union that the check I had written to The Food Market had bounced, and loudly, I presumed. That was my second bouncing to The Food Market. From now on it would be cash only for me at that store.

No money in the account! I couldn’t believe it! I should have had twenty dollars left over after that check. Now, with the bounced-check fee, I apparently was overdrawn thirty dollars and twenty cents. How could I have fouled up my checkbook so badly? It wasn’t as though I wrote a lot of checks to keep up with. It didn’t make sense.

Food was definitely going to be a problem for the next few days, until my GI Bill check came in. And worst of all, I had a date for lunch with Rosalyn. Sometimes she paid for our lunch; hopefully this would be one of those times. Otherwise I was going to be in trouble.

As it turned out, my money problem was the least of my worries.

Depressed, staring at the ground, afraid to wonder what else could possibly go wrong on this day that had hardly begun, I ran right into the Ghoul from the End of the Hall. It was like hitting a steel I-beam, and I went careening across the hall into the wall. The Ghoul just glared at me and left.

Dreamy Isle Apartments was a three-story building. Mrs. Lafferty lived on the first floor with Genghis Khan; there were four apartments on the second floor and four more on the third, five if you counted mine. While mine was certainly the smallest, the Ghoul’s was the largest, with a sitting room as well as a bedroom and a private bath. I had no proper excuse for knowing this except that I’d been in it chasing Khan. This was one thing Khan and I agreed on. Neither of us liked the Ghoul. If anything, Khan disliked him more than I did. I had no idea why, but whenever the Ghoul was around, Khan continually emitted a low-pitched growl and stayed as far away from him as possible. But when the Ghoul was out of the building, Khan often spent hours trying to break into his apartment. At least one time he was successful and I found him staring into the bathroom, his head slightly cocked to the right, lip and stomach rubbing the floor, a puddle of drool in front of him. Pulling him away from that bathroom was harder than dragging him away from one of his favorite dead squirrels, but I finally extracted him from the Ghoul’s apartment. My first inclination was to leave Khan in the hallway while I wiped up the trail of drool, but ultimately I decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. Let the Ghoul puzzle over the river of spit.

Of course, he really wasn’t a Ghoul, not that I was aware of, anyway. His name was Thaddeus K. Rumpkin. I had some difficulty prying this from Mrs. Lafferty, but kept asking her day after day until it slipped out of her sometimes addled mind. I don’t know why it was so important for me to find this out, but it was.

All the tenants called him the Ghoul because in some indescribable way he reminded us of one. It was hard to say why. He was thick and stubby, at least four inches shorter than me. His face was entirely without wrinkles, yet gave the appearance of being old. His expression was always neutral, never laughing, smiling, frowning, or looking puzzled. Yet a feeling of hostility always emanated from him. And his eyes … they were ancient, deep in knowledge … frightening … inhuman. I couldn’t look at them without a cold sweat breaking out on my back and my knees wobbling.

Once I had tried to be friendly. I offered to help him carry a load of groceries to his apartment since he was struggling with four obviously heavy bags, two in each arm. He stared at me, almost through me, and shook his head.

“Why?” he muttered. “I’m several times stronger than you.”

With that he bounded up the steps faster than I ever could, leaving me to shrug at Mrs. Lafferty in the foyer.

“Strange bird,” she said, staring up at him. “Pays good money, though. Never late with his rent.” With that, she turned and hobbled into her kitchen. It was the only unsolicited comment about him I ever heard from her.

I often asked her what he did for a living. She shook her head. I asked her why he didn’t come to the weekend breakfasts she fixed for all her tenants. She shook her head. I asked her if she knew why we didn’t see him for days at a time. Was he gone or in his apartment? She shook her head. She didn’t know, of course. No more than the rest of us.

 As I now staggered around the hallway watching the Ghoul’s back disappear down the stairs I thought about the one time I had followed Khan into the Ghoul’s apartment. My mind couldn’t remember all the details, but what still struck me was that it was virtually bare. There was a desk or table in the sitting room, with a computer on it—at least something that was square and metallic—but the rest of the room was empty, and there was only a pad on the floor in the bedroom. I couldn’t remember anything about the bathroom except for Khan drooling in the doorway, but there was a strange presence coming from the room; perhaps that was the reason I needed so much strength to pull him away. It took me several days to admit it, but I was scared in that apartment. Terrified, actually.

Rushing away from the Ghoul, I made it back to campus for my Mechanics I class. The day had been going so badly that I had temporarily buried deep in my mind the fact that I was facing a midterm here. I had studied at least thirty hours for this test, and felt that I knew the material backwards and forwards, but the moment the test was placed in front of me, my mind went blank. The test questions appeared to be written in Sanskrit. Not one of them made any sense whatsoever.

When I finished the midterm, I was sure I had flunked it.

About the Author

Robert B. Marcus Jr. is a practicing radiation oncology physician. He has been a Professor at two major medical schools, and is listed in U.S. News and World Reports Best Doctors in America, as well as Castle Connolly’s Top Cancer Doctors and Castle Connolly’s Top Doctors in America. He has been president of FLASCO, the society of all the oncologists in Florida, and has authored or co-authored almost 200 medical journal articles and chapters. He has been selling fiction since he was in college. Since then he has published a number of novelettes and short stories and three novels, with two forthcoming novels, one a paranormal romance (The Haunting of Scott Remington) and another political thriller novel (Yesterday’s Tears). He is a lifetime active member of Science Fiction Writers of America and recently became a member of the International Thriller Writers, Inc.

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Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords