Books

“Mandate of Heaven” is now an audiobook, and it’s FREE!

/ Peter Martuneac / 4 Comments

Whether you’ve already read the adventures of treasure hunter Ethan Chase or if you’re new to this series, the good people over at Chirp books have a fantastic audiobook deal for you!

Mandate of Heaven, the first Ethan Chase adventure, can now be downloaded from Chirp books for precisely zero dollars and zero cents. Just click here to see this freebie for yourself!

What’s more, if you download this first audiobook, you can get the rest of the series, Solomon’s Fortune and Gold of the Jaguar, for only 99¢ apiece now through Monday!

That’s three audiobooks for just $1.98, less than the cost of the delicious Double Stacked Taco from Taco Bell that I am enjoying at this very moment (no, this post is not sponsored by Taco Bell but if a corporate representative from Taco Bell is reading this and wants to hook up a partnership, my email inbox is always open).

So if you, your sister, your best friend, college history professor, favorite nephew, congressman, or even your mailman are hankering for a good ol’ fashioned, Indiana Jones-esque adventure story, go to Chirp books now or share the link and join Ethan Chase on a globetrotting journey for a legendary treasure!

Book Review: “Lost in Shangri-La” by Mitchell Zuckoff

/ Peter Martuneac / 3 Comments

A coworker of mine who functions as my unofficial, personal librarian lent me a book recently that he thought I’d enjoy. The title? Lost in Shangri-La. Sounded like a fun adventure novel. I soon learned it was not a fictional tale of derring-do but rather a true story of a plane that crashed in an uncharted jungle of New Guinea during World War II.

The events took place in 1945, when the end of the war was in sight and certain areas in the Pacific theater were deemed relatively safe. New Guinea was one such place and it was for that reason that so many women from the Women’s Army Corps (WAC) were stationed here.

New Guinea was and is a beautiful island full of exotic locations that, in the time before the internet, were unimaginable to most Americans. Given the beauty of this far-flung land and the relative safety from enemy ships and planes, some pilots would regularly give tours to the soldiers and civilians stationed there. The tours became especially sought after when one pilot accidentally flew over an uncharted jungle inhabited by thousands of natives. This hidden valley was appropriately dubbed ‘Shangri-La’.

The reason this valley had remained hidden from outside contact for millennia was due to its location. Surrounded by mountains on a vast island surrounded by miles of ocean, there were no paths into the valley whatsoever. Even natives from other parts of the island were unaware of its existence. Planes that had flown far over the island were too high to see any details, and flying low over it was almost unthinkable due to the treacherous mountains and sheer cliff-faces.

I say all that to tell you how a plane could have crashed in such a location. The fact is that it took an exceptionally brave and highly skilled pilot to fly into that valley and get out again safely, even in the best conditions. On this particular flight, none of these things were present. The skilled pilot allowed his untested, ‘newbie’ co-pilot to handle the controls, even when a thick cloud descended over the valley. As a result, the co-pilot did not see a mountain stretching up in front of him until it was too late.

The plane crashed, engulfed in flames. Of the two dozen occupants, only three survived: Corporal Margaret Hastings of the WAC, Lieutenant John McCollum (whose twin brother died in the crash), and Sergeant Kenneth Decker.

I don’t want to spoil too much of the rest of the story, but it’s a fascinating tale of survival in the face of unimaginable grief and adversity. The trio of soldiers had to battle disease, hunger, and the jungle itself as they tried to find a way back to civilization from a jungle that had no maps and no discernable trails. But what scared them the most was the previously uncontacted native population. Would they help the trio of strangers, wounded and lost as they were? Or would the warnings of these people being savage cannibals prove true?

This is a great story not only for history buffs but anyone who marvels at the human spirit and the resilience it shows when we find ourselves in our bleakest moments. I recommend this to any lover of books and especially those lovers of non-fiction.

If you’re like me and this book only makes you hunger more for a fictional adventure through jungles and places lost to time, you can also check out my Ethan Chase treasure hunter series on Amazon! The ebooks are only $4.99 a piece and they come with some fantastic reviews.

Book Review: “For the Sins of my Father” by Albert DeMeo

/ Peter Martuneac / 4 Comments

In the course of my deep dive into the history of the American Mafia, one particularly infamous member of the Mafia drew my attention: Roy DeMeo. A notorious hitman loyal to Paul Castellano, he and his crew are suspected of as many as 200 murders. They became so proficient at murdering victims and disposing of bodies that their modus operandi became known as ‘the Gemini Method’, named after the lounge that served as their headquarters.

As it turns out, DeMeo had a son and he has written a book about life with his father. He never tries to excuse his father’s actions or deny who he was. His goal with his book is to simply give the second side of the story. Yes, Roy DeMeo was a monster but, in the author’s words, for 23 hours out of every day, he was a loving father who took care of his family.

The early scenes of the book were the most interesting to me. Albert recounts how, as a young boy, he knew that everyone seemed to admire and respect his father, yet he had no idea what his dad did for a living. He carried a gun but wasn’t a cop. He carried lots of cash around but wasn’t a banker. He did know that his father owned a car dealership but was never there. So that was the story he told whenever some kid or teacher asked what his father did.

As he got to about 8 years old, Albert’s father made no effort to hide his vocation from his only son. Roy was grooming his son to follow his same path one day. This also struck me as interesting as in other books I’ve read about the Mafia, it seems there’s a bit of a split over whether children should be brought up into the ‘Family’. Some mafiosi don’t want their children living the same dangerous lifestyle as them while others believe that to not bring your children into the life of crime is a tacit admission that what they are doing is wrong and unacceptable.

Albert recounts two particular stories that clearly scarred him more than others. In one, as a ten year old he was relaxing with his father and his friends at one of their safehouses. His father left a revolver on the table next to Albert and walked into the next room. Suddenly a masked man burst into the apartment with a gun and pointed it at one of Roy’s friends. Terrified and confused, Albert snatched up the revolver, aimed at the intruder, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

The gun was empty. The intruder pulled off a mask to reveal himself as one of Roy’s friends. His father had set the whole thing up, staging a break in and leaving an unloaded gun with his ten year old son to see if he’d do the ‘right’ thing, that is to pull the trigger on somebody. Roy and the crew cheered for Albert, but Albert recounts how violently sick he felt.

The second formative event came later as an older teenager. His father would occasionally send him to collect money he was owed from some of his illicit business partners. One was a brothel, one that catered to particularly sick, sordid customers. Without getting into details, Albert recounts how the smells and sights of that building have stuck with him his entire life. When he finally got out with the money, he ran home, threw his clothes into the trash, and sat in the shower just crying.

For the Sins of my Father is a tough read at times. As both a son and father myself it’s horrifying to put myself into Albert’s shoes. I can’t even imagine growing up in such a lifestyle, nor could I imagine sending my son into such despicable places, putting him through diabolical tests of loyalty.

Eventually, Roy DeMeo is gunned down. After he and his crew caught too much heat from law enforcement, it was decided by the Commission that Roy needed to be ‘whacked’. According to Albert, his father knew it was coming and went willingly to a meeting that he knew would end with his murder. It’s impossible to know how true that is, but it’s what Albert believes.

The last 30% of the book or so is how Albert’s life spiraled out of control after his father’s death. Despite everything he knew about Roy’s criminal business, he loved the man and the man loved him. If only half of what Albert says is true, then Roy DeMeo was certainly a good father in terms of providing for and showing love to his children. Things got worse and worse for Albert until he eventually attempted suicide, more than once.

Mercifully, he finally found the strength to get help for himself and by all accounts is now leading a normal, healthy life.

All in all, I’m glad I read this book. For all the outsider perspectives and opinions about the Mafia that I’ve consumed, getting an insider’s glimpse was both fascinating and heartbreaking. I can recommend it to anyone with an interest in the American Mafia or the life of crime in general.

Book Review: ‘Shadow Prowler’ by Alexey Pehov

/ Peter Martuneac / 1 Comment

When I was deployed to Afghanistan many years ago, we would routinely receive care packages from businesses, churches, and charity organizations, packages containing myriad items. New socks, snack, and sometimes even books. As a voracious reader since childhood, I always appreciated the assortment of books. I had my Barnes & Noble Nook loaded with some of my favorites, but sometimes I wanted to read something new.

One book I’d picked up was a fantasy story, the first of a planned trilogy, written by some Russian author. I remember enjoying it and planning to get the rest of the books in the series when I returned to America. However, the months passed, the book series faded from memory, and by the time I remembered there was a book I’d really enjoyed, I could no longer remember the name of it or even the name of the author. Even Google searches of Russian fantasy authors were mostly unhelpful. The only thing I remembered for sure was that the protagonist was some kind of rogue, and that in this world the dwarves were all beardless, a significant departure from standard fantasy fare.

Finally, 10 years later I found it! Shadow Prowler by Alexey Pehov. I got the book for Christmas and dived right in, hoping that it would be as good as I remembered. Much to my delight, it was.

The plot is pretty typical for the genre. A nefarious, ancient evil referred to only as ‘The Nameless One’ is brooding far away, biding its time until it can unleash its full power on the kingdoms of men and elves who defeated him once before. In his service are vast hordes of orcs, corrupted men, and wicked shamans. The only thing keeping him locked away behind mountains of ice and snow is the Rainbow Horn, the most powerful magical artifact in the all the world, created long ago by the greatest shamans of the ogres.

The problem? It’s weakening, and that’s where the protagonist, master thief Shadow Harold comes in.

The pacing of the story is interesting. While the world of men is in mortal danger, the protagonists aren’t exactly rushing into action. They do have time to complete their mission of retrieving the Rainbow Horn, but they’ll only get one shot at it so they need to be prepared. And before Harold can even depart on this quest, he has a shadowy demon dogging him, and he has to deal with that. There’s also a mysterious magician known only as The Master, who is either working for The Nameless One or against the men and elves. Either way, he’s bad news.

As for the world itself, it’s a very unique world for a fantasy story. As aforementioned, the dwarves here are beardless and are proud of it. The reason being their ancient and hated rivals, the gnomes, grow beards. Goblins are present in the story too but are not bad guys. In fact, they are a formerly oppressed race, nearly driven to extinction by men and elves who believed them to be no different than orcs when in fact they tend to be good and fair.

Speaking of elves, they are fascinating in this world. Instead of the wise, restrained, angel-adjacent type of elves normally seen in fantasy, elves in Shadow Prowler are a bit terrifying. Their eyes shimmer with gold, they have razor-sharp fangs, and they are famous for bad tempers. A passing insult from a non-elf can expect to be returned in the form of an elven blade pressed against one’s throat.

So while the plot is pretty typical, the world itself feels different, which is good as far as I’m concerned.

One negative that I’ll bring up is sometimes the writing feels a little choppy. It’s told in first-person present, through the eyes of Shadow Harold, and sometimes the dialogue or his inner thoughts don’t seem to flow very well. However, I’m inclined to believe this is the result of a book being translated from Russian to English. I’m sure there are Russian phrases or sentence constructions that are perfectly good in their own language that just don’t hit the same when translated to English.

I highly recommend this one to any and all fans of fantasy. I’ll be ordering the rest of the books in this series soon and can’t wait to see where the story goes next.

Book Review: “The Fifth Act” by Elliot Ackerman

/ Peter Martuneac / 5 Comments

I came to this book in a surprisingly roundabout and atypical way: a rabbit hole of Wikipedia articles. It started with checking out some recent edits on the page of my former battalion, the 3rd Battalion, 4th Marine Regiment, and eventually led to the page for Elliot Ackerman, himself a former Marine and now an author.

I perused the list of his books and immediately felt a call from The Fifth Act: America’s End in Afghanistan. That was my war, Elliot’s war; our war. I bookmarked the page so I’d remember to buy it once I inevitably received at least one Barnes & Noble gift card for Christmas.

Christmas came and I went to the store to pick it up the next day. I started reading it that night and couldn’t put it down. I finished it the very next morning, just an hour ago, in fact.

This is not a recounting of all the events leading up to the collapse of the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan to the Taliban, but more of a memoir. The author guides us through his involvement in the efforts made by US citizens and military veterans to evacuate Afghans who would almost certainly be murdered by the Taliban once the US completed its withdrawal.

Juxtaposed against these harrowing tales of fear, hope, and despair are the scenes of the author’s family vacation. While he was touring Italy with his wife and kids, Ackerman was furiously messaging and calling every contact he had and even folks he’d never met, trying to arrange safe evacuation for hundreds of people. It’s a jarring switch every time, to go from scenes of chaos and death to fancy dinners in Rome, but it highlights the absolute insanity of war and in particular this war as it drew to its close.

Ackerman also tells some stories of his time in Afghanistan as a Marine and later as a CIA paramilitary officer. He recalls a few missions, including times when friends fell in combat. These stories spoke to me, of course. My own memories of the war flooded back, and I felt anew all those old emotions.

As I said above, I couldn’t hardly put down the book and I stopped reading only twice. Once, when a picture of a blown-up and bloodied Humvee hit too close to home; I stopped only long enough to dry my eyes and pour a double-shot of Bulleit bourbon. Second, to go to sleep.

I was struck by how many of the author’s emotions and reactions to the Taliban takeover of Afghanistan I shared. At points, it felt like I was reading something I myself had written. But this was also reassuring, to know that I wasn’t the only one who felt helpless, who felt guilty for not doing more.

That feeling was the most poignant for me, and my biggest takeaway from the book. Ackerman recounts a personal sense of betrayal when he left the war despite friends continuing in it. It’s a choice all of us make, a choice not forced upon some previous generations. For veterans of World War II, the war was over when the empires of Japan and Nazi Germany formally surrendered and peace treaties were signed; in the Afghanistan War, as Ackerman puts it, thousands of individual peace treaties were signed by the thousands of American participants. The war went on, but we who left had finished with it.

It’s a guilt I still feel from time to time. If I’d stayed in the Marines, or re-enlisted as an Army Ranger like I’d once intended, I could have done more. Perhaps I could have, like Ackerman, developed enough of a contact list with important enough people to make a difference in the evacuation efforts.

But I didn’t, and I couldn’t. I wanted out because it was this very scenario I foresaw. After returning from my first deployment, after we buried our dead and held their memorial services, I realized that ultimately it would all fail. I’d seen enough of the war over there to know that one day we would leave, and on that day the Taliban would take over.

I told myself I could get out after four years and deal with the guilt and sadness of that day when it comes, or fight for another four or eight years, let the war take an even deeper hold of me, and still deal with the guilt and sadness when that day arrived all the same.

I chose the former, and I still don’t know if that was the right choice.

The Fifth Act was a fantastic, highly emotional work that takes you inside the mind of a veteran of America’s longest war as he watched it draw to a bloody, chaotic, and tragic end. It’s only about 260 pages and as I have proven something that can be read in a day, if you so chose.

I highly recommend this one to fellow veterans of the Afghan war, or to civilians who wonder what we may have felt in those harrowing weeks of the war’s end.