Ian Blaikie’s The Turning is a suspenseful and quietly daring novel, the kind that first appears to be a time-slip mystery and then deepens into something far more resonant and rich. His version of time travel is deeply intimate rather than technical, rooted not in cosmic machinery but in human emotion. The result is a journey that feels simultaneously eerie, grounded, and unexpectedly personal.

There are children’s adventure stories that entertain, those that educate, and those that quietly shift something inside you. The Magic Band of Five belongs firmly in the third category — a novel woven from decades of lived experience, sharpened by loss, and grounded in the kind of African knowledge you simply can’t fake. Dougie Arnold spent fifteen years in Kenya, helping to run a game reserve, flying planes and leading international schools, but it’s not the résumé that hooks you — it’s the sense that every scene, every creature, and every patch of sun-baked earth comes from a place he has truly walked.

Finding Ida is a profoundly human novel. It is about sisterhood, survival, and the strange ways history decides who we become. It is about faith, forgiveness, and the instinct to search for those we love, even when hope has long since thinned. But above all, it is about identity — the kind we inherit, the kind we shape, and the kind we spend our entire lives trying to reclaim.

Darkness in Gibraltar is a clever, tightly woven thriller that plunges straight into the shadows—both political and literal. It opens with an explosion on a quiet farm in Cádiz province, but the true detonation happens once DI Leon Prado and his unusual team of volunteer translators descend into Gibraltar’s wartime tunnels. For readers who enjoy thrillers with brains and atmosphere, this sixth instalment in Paul S Bradley’s Andalusian Mystery Series delivers exactly the kind of intrigue that keeps pages turning.

Some books whisper their secrets; others tighten the air around you until every breath feels complicit. Angela Lester’s The Allegations does both. It begins with the shock of a child’s discovery — a scene so intimate and quietly harrowing it imprints itself on the reader’s mind — and then unfolds into a psychological labyrinth of memory, guilt and the elusive nature of truth. By the time you realise where Lester has taken you, you’ve long surrendered to her spell.

In Murder and Malice, Hugh Greene invites readers into a world where intellect, power and morality intersect — and quietly implode. It’s a sophisticated psychological thriller that unravels in a world of universities, research funding, and the uneasy marriage between knowledge and corruption. The tone is deliberate and elegant; the violence is intellectual as much as physical. Greene writes as if he’s dissecting the soul of modern ambition with the precision of a pathologist.

To Keep Us All Safe is much more than a dystopian narrative. It is a mirror held up to our fears, our sneakily extorted compromises, and our resilience. It asks us to look closely at the language of safety, to question who benefits from it, and to remember what is lost when freedoms are bartered away. It is a novel that lingers, whispering questions long after the final letter has been read.

Liberto Orrego is a Chilean primary school teacher and writer. By writing The Ongoing Melody Of My Family Saga, Orrego shows his deep passion for knowledge. His writing has led him to create stories that delve into the complexities of human nature and the essence of being human in our modern age.