Showing results by narrator "David S. McIntosh" in All Categories

On an ordinary January afternoon, a disturbing revelation about his wife hurls one man into a maelstrom of public humiliation and heartbreak, and eventually on a spree of run-ins with lawyers, judges, therapists, and law enforcement. Land of July tells the true story of a teacher/student sex scandal that not only shocked an entire school and small suburban community, but made national news. It’s a story filled with countless anecdotes about marriage, trust, infidelity, grief, and the desperate search for hope and family in the face of ruin.

When an ancient, bloodthirsty force descends upon the small southern town of Clarke, Sheriff Walter Brady and a defiant band of survivors must wage war against a terror unlike any before. As the body count rises and the streets run red, they’ll have to outthink, outfight, and outlast creatures who see them as nothing more than prey. Burn This Town is a savage blend of horror, dark comedy, and twisted romance, where survival isn’t guaranteed, and the only rule is kill or be eaten.

Hollis Varn returns to Fenwell Hollow expecting paperwork, property, maybe a quiet inheritance. What he steps into is something older: Tallow House, a house that listens. A stitched ledger called the Roll, buried memories that don’t belong wholly to the past, and an orchard that catalogs names like fruit.

When the Sirens Are Silent is a raw, unfiltered look at what life inside emergency medicine really does to the people who live it — the trauma we carry, the silence we keep, and the way it slowly breaks us if we don’t fight back. Written by a working medic who nearly died from stress-induced stroke after years of suppressing the emotional toll, this book isn’t a self-help manual or inspirational fluff. It’s the truth — backed by science, lived in blood and burnout, and told with the kind of dark honesty that only another responder will understand.

Rubber and Blood is the untold history of a colonial horror most textbooks still skip. It’s not just a story about Leopold—it’s about the silence that protected him, the system that continued without him, and the Congo that still bears the scar. This isn’t history. This is an indictment.

PTSD doesn’t whisper. It hijacks your sleep, burns through your relationships, and lives rent-free in your nervous system. The world wants you to stay quiet, stay small, stay “healed.” This book says f*** that. Scars Don’t Whisper isn’t about polished advice or therapy clichés. It’s for the ones still waking up in survival mode, still flinching at kindness, still battling the guilt of not being “over it.”