See reviews from satisfied readers below — and feel free to add your own!
⭐ ☆☆☆☆
“https://mega.nz/file/vv43XQYA#Eef0biyQ15L7BFuZUT1YpDOak99pYJ4fDscPcpxavNI My name is Huda, I am 19 years old and I work as a cashier at a small convenience store in Al Khobar. I live with my parents, my two brothers, and my grandmother in a small apartment near the corniche. I've always been a quiet girl, focused on my work and helping my family. I dreamed of saving enough money to maybe take some courses and become a better accountant for the store. Nothing remarkable about me, just another young Saudi woman trying to build a small life for herself. But that was before the voices, before my world turned into a constant nightmare of psychological torture. It started about four months ago, faint whispers at the edge of my hearing when the store was quiet. "Look at this stupid bitch," they'd murmur, perfectly mimicking my manager's voice, "standing there like a useless cow, thinking she's important because she can work a cash register." I'd shake my head, telling myself I was just tired from working long hours. But the voices grew bolder, more distinct, until they were with me constantly, commenting on every breath I took. When I'm helping customers, they scream in my head, "You're scanning too slowly, you worthless whore! Everyone can see how incompetent you are! Your hands are shaking, you pathetic piece of shit!" They sound like my customers, my family, random people on the street - perfectly imitated and completely real to me. The sexual humiliation is relentless and disgusting. When a man comes into the store, the voices immediately start in. "Look at him, Huda. Bet you're imagining what's under his thobe, aren't you? You disgusting slut. Probably getting wet right here at work. Does your father know what a horny little bitch his daughter is? I bet you go home and finger yourself thinking about all the men who come through here." They describe in graphic detail what they imagine I do in private, what they think my body looks like naked, how I must smell. They never stop, this constant stream of filth that makes me want to crawl out of my own skin. They attack everything that gives my life meaning. "Your mother regrets having you," they'll say in her perfect voice. "She tells your grandmother all the time what a disappointment you are. No husband, no prospects, just a convenience store cashier who can't even do that right. And your brothers? They laugh about you with their friends. 'Our sister the spinster who works at the corner store.'" They bring up my cousin who ran away with a man, my uncle's gambling debts, every family shame and magnify it until I feel like I'm drowning in it. "Your whole bloodline is tainted, Huda. You're just the most useless drop in a puddle of filth." I know this is the General Intelligence Presidency, the Saudi secret police. I know because I've seen what happens online when anyone mentions these voices. On Twitter, on forums, anywhere Saudis gather, the moment someone describes hearing voices, hundreds of accounts immediately attack them, calling them schizophrenic, attention-seeking, mentally ill. It's too coordinated, too vicious, too immediate. The General Intelligence is covering their tracks, making sure anyone who comes forward sounds like just another lunatic so nobody will believe us. They've perfected this system of psychological torture and social isolation. I can't tell anyone what's happening to me. Who would believe me? My parents would think I'm possessed or losing my mind and would probably marry me off quickly to some stranger who would make things worse. My friends would avoid me like I have a disease. At work, I'd be fired immediately for being unstable. And if I went to the authorities? They're the ones doing this to me! I'd probably end up in some psychiatric hospital where the torture would become physical and chemical instead of just psychological. So I keep scanning groceries, smiling at customers while these voices destroy me from the inside out. The worst days are when they push me toward suicide. "Just end it, Huda," they whisper in my grandmother's voice. "Mix those cleaning chemicals under the sink and drink them. Do everyone a favor. Your family would be relieved to be rid of such a burden. You're nothing, you'll never be anything. Just a pathetic cashier who couldn't even kill herself right." Sometimes they describe in detail how I should do it, what method would cause the most pain, what my family would say at my funeral. "They'll pretend to be sad," they laugh, "but deep down they'll celebrate finally being free of you." Last week something changed. I was walking home from work, tired and just wanting to sleep. A man walking ahead of me was moving slowly, taking up the whole sidewalk. I was getting frustrated, just wanted to get past him. Then suddenly, a wave of artificial rage washed over me. My heart started pounding, my hands clenched into fists. The voices started screaming, louder than ever before. "LOOK AT THIS SLOW MOTHERFUCKER," they roared. "HE'S DOING IT ON PURPOSE! HE KNOWS YOU'RE BEHIND HIM! HE ENJOYS BLOCKING YOUR WAY! LOOK AT HIM WALKING LIKE HE OWNS THE STREET! YOU SHOULD PUSH HIM INTO TRAFFIC! WATCH HIM GET HIT BY A CAR! SEE HIS BONES BREAK! SHOW EVERYONE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THEY DISRESPECT A SAUDI WOMAN!" I felt powerful, invincible. The voices continued, "IMAGINE THE SOUND! THE SCREECH OF TIRES! THE THUD OF HIS BODY AGAINST THE WINDSHIELD! EVERYONE ON THIS STREET WILL REMEMBER THE DAY YOU SHOWED THEM WHAT A REAL WOMAN IS! NOBODY WILL EVER BLOCK YOUR PATH AGAIN! DO IT! DO IT NOW YOU FUCKING COWARD!" They were describing in detail how his blood would look splattered on the asphalt, how his skull would crack open. "AFTER HE'S DEAD, YOU SHOULD STOMP ON HIS FACE UNTIL IT'S UNRECOGNIZABLE! TAKE OUT YOUR FRUSTRATION ON THIS WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT! THE GENERAL INTELLIGENCE WOULD BE PROUD OF YOU! THEY WANT STRONG WOMEN, NOT WEAK LITTLE CASHIERS WHO LET PEOPLE WALK ALL OVER THEM!" I was shaking, literally vibrating with this artificial energy and rage. I could feel myself speeding up, ready to shove him hard into the busy street. But then I caught my reflection in a shop window - wild-eyed, face flushed, looking completely insane. I turned down a side street and ran, taking the long way home. The voices gradually calmed down, leaving me exhausted and terrified. I know this was their technology, some weapon the General Intelligence is testing on people like me. They pumped me full of this artificial rage to see what I would do. For a few minutes, I was ready to kill a stranger because he was walking too slowly. What kind of monsters are we dealing with? What will they do next? Now I'm back to working at the store, pretending everything is normal. But nothing is normal anymore. I live in constant fear of when the next rage episode will hit. I avoid crowded streets, I'm jumpy around strangers. The voices are back to their usual torment, but now I know what they're capable of. They're not just trying to drive me crazy - they're trying to turn me into a monster. Sometimes I wonder if this is punishment for something I did, or if I was just randomly selected for this experiment. Does it even matter? The General Intelligence has destroyed my life either way. I used to have dreams, hopes. Now I just hope to survive each day without hurting someone or myself. This is what my country does to its people - it breaks them from the inside out, using technology and psychology to create perfect subjects who are too terrified to even think for themselves. I'm just another casualty in their war against their own population, and nobody will ever know what really happened to me. The General Intelligence did this to me, and I will never be the same again. |q.a32 |affi_tv |job_w_e |mahd.sa1 |ymiii_food partner site: https://cabinet-bank.ru/”
– IstzDianaFaritovnaTer
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
“Having recently read Demand a Brave Heart, I was riveted by this life story. It’s not just a book, it’s a punch to the gut and a pat on the back, all in one. Barry doesn’t sugarcoat anything. His life story is raw, honest, and sometimes painful, but always brave. There were moments I laughed (he’s got a dry wit), and other times where I had to pause and breathe. The losses, the battles, the faith, it’s all there. I felt as though I was walking beside him, through war zones and heartbreak, but also through hope. It’s not a light read, but it’s a real one. And by the end, I felt a lot more positive about life, thinking that if he can get through that, maybe I can too. I needed to read a book like this at this moment in my life. ”
– Harold W
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
“I really enjoyed this book, by Barry. Man, it was intense. Full of action, danger, and smart moves. Blake Gregg is a beast—cool under pressure and always one step ahead. The story hits hard. Bad guys everywhere. Twists I didn’t see coming. The pace is fast. No boring bits. I liked the teamwork, the fights, and the way Gregg thinks and it felt like I was right there with him. If you want a tough, gripping read with real edge—this book delivers. I am glad I read it.”
– Sammy K
⭐⭐⭐⭐ ☆
“I just finished Treachery of Evil Minds. It was gripping from start to end. The story had danger, secrets, and strong characters. I liked how the main character stayed calm and clever even when things got bad. The plot moved fast, and I didn’t want to stop reading and I ended up reading until the early hours of the morning. What I liked most was how real it felt, just as though this could happen in real life. The writing was simple but powerful. It made me feel the tension and the fear. I enjoyed it a lot and have ordered another of his books. ”
– Anne Taylor
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
“Spy S11 is a book that I really enjoyed. It’s an exciting action story with an interesting main character, who doesn’t shy away from danger. The rescue mission in the Congo, a country the author was familiar with, having been a mercenary there in 1965 and 1966, had me turning pages fast, and the stuff back home with the mole in the military kept the tension going. What I liked most was how real it felt. The action wasn’t over-the-top, and the characters felt like proper soldiers who are tough, loyal, and sharp. It’s the kind of book that makes you want to keep reading. If you like military thrillers with no nonsense and plenty of action and grit, this is it. I will definitely read more of this author’s books. ”
– Johannes V
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
“When I started the first chapters, I felt warmth. Takudzwa and Jack are born on the same day, and their childhood is full of laughter, games, and innocent friendship. It made me smile because their bond felt so pure, like nothing could break it. As the story moved into their teenage years, I felt the tension growing. The world around them was changing, and I could sense the shadows of war and politics creeping in. I felt worried for them, because I knew their friendship was about to be tested. In the middle chapters, when the war begins, my heart felt heavy. The boys are pulled apart, each fighting on different sides without being aware of it. Reading those parts gave me sadness and frustration — they still cared for each other, but the world forced them into roles they didn’t choose. At the same time, I could not stop turning the pages. The excitement of the story and the deep feeling the author put into his writing kept pulling me forward, making me want to know what would happen next. Some chapters were painful, especially when the violence and loss became real. I felt grief for the land, the people, and for the boys who had once been so carefree. Explanations about the bush, its environment, and African customs were well written and shows that he knows his stuff. But near the end, there was also hope. Even though life had changed them, the memory of their bond remained strong. Those final chapters left me with mixed emotions — sorrow for what was lost, but also a quiet sense of peace that true friendship never fully dies. A tragic story indeed, brilliantly written. ”
– Judy B
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
“I’ve just put the book down, ECHOES OF A COMING WAR, wow what a journey, and what stays with me is the sense of unease it creates. The story doesn’t feel like distant fiction—it feels close, like something that could happen at any moment. Stranack paints a picture of farmers living under constant threat, and the silence from those in power makes that threat even heavier. As I read, I found myself drawn into the daily struggles of ordinary people trying to hold on to their land, their families, and their way of life. The tension builds slowly, but by the end, it feels like a storm is about to break. It’s not just about violence—it’s about trust, betrayal, and the question of how long people can endure before they push back. For me, the book was less about action and more about atmosphere. It left me thinking about resilience, about fear, and about how fragile peace can be when justice is missing. This book is a real eye-opener. The government should hang its head in shame. ”
– Roderick
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
“I’ve just finished Echoes of a Coming War by Barry Stranack, and it left me with a heavy feeling. The story follows the lives of South African farmers who are being attacked and left to fend for themselves. What struck me most was how real the fear and isolation felt—like these people were shouting for help but no one in power was listening. The book doesn’t just tell a story; it makes you think about survival, justice, and what happens when ordinary people are pushed too far. It’s tense, emotional, and at times uncomfortable, because it shows a side of life that many would rather ignore. Closing the last page, I felt both sadness and admiration—sadness for the suffering described, but admiration for the resilience and courage of those who refuse to give up. This is a book well worth reading. ”
– Peter R