A Heartfelt Thank You to Thomas Anderson and Literary Titan!


I’m beyond thrilled to share that The Pandora’s Box and The Oberon Stone recently received amazing reviews from Thomas Anderson, the Editor-in-Chief at Literary Titan! His insightful words have truly left me speechless, and I just had to take a moment to reflect on how deeply his reviews impacted me.

Thomas captured the essence of both stories in such an amazingly poetic way. I felt that his analysis didn’t just describe the books but actually enhanced them. The depth with which he highlighted key moments, from Liam’s grief to Chiara’s internal struggles, was simply incredible. It was like rediscovering my own work through fresh eyes.

What moved me most was the way Thomas articulated the emotional weight of Liam’s grief and the complexity of Chiara’s journey. His description of Liam’s exhaustion, Montgomery’s desperation, and the symbolic layers woven throughout the narrative was beyond anything I could have hoped for in a review. The way he reflected the heart of the story back at me was an experience I won’t forget.

To Thomas and Literary Titan, thank you for your exceptional review. Your words truly resonated with me and have added such a rich layer of understanding to my work. For anyone who hasn’t yet read the reviews, I highly encourage you to check them out—they’re not just reviews but an insightful reflection on the heart and soul of the Conjurer’s Prophecyseries.

Once again, thank you for your thoughtful, poetic feedback. I’m incredibly grateful for your support and for the chance to have my stories reach such a meaningful audience.


Below, the review of The Pandora's Box, followed by the review of The Oberon Stone:


-- Review --

L.S. Franco’s The Pandora’s Box is a coming-of-age fantasy that throws you into the chaotic, heart-wrenching, and ultimately magical life of 14-year-old Liam Hale. After the sudden loss of his mother, Liam stumbles upon a hidden world full of demigods, cosmic wonders, and parallel universes. What starts off as a rough summer in Florida quickly morphs into an urgent quest involving magical schools, mysterious holograms, ancient mythologies, and a ticking clock to save the world from spiraling evil. Franco balances it all with humor, emotion, and a relatable teen protagonist.

What really stood out to me was the emotional depth in the opening chapters. Liam’s grief over his mom’s death felt raw and authentic. That moment where he holds the green hurricane-patterned mug she gave him was emotional. The mug becomes more than a memory. It’s almost like a stand-in for his mom, a symbol of comfort and loss, and the way Franco uses it later (as a literal gateway to magic) was both clever and poetic. I felt like I was right there with him—awkward, overwhelmed, and trying not to fall apart. Even when things got fantastical, the emotional throughline grounded the story.

The writing is fast-paced and dialogue-heavy, which made it really easy to get into, even during more expository moments. I especially liked the dynamic between Liam and his best friend Ada—her personality bursts off the page. She’s loud, bold, slightly chaotic, and totally loyal. Their banter adds so much charm. When she gifts him the matching LA pendant and calls him “bestie,” you can practically see Liam’s heart crack just a little. He’s totally smitten, and it’s adorably painful. Franco nailed that awkward, hopeful teen crush energy without being corny.

Then there’s the twist: Liam is a second-generation demigod and heir to the “Keeper of the Seven Wonders” throne. His mother’s hologram spills the beans in what might be the most emotionally charged info-dump I’ve ever read. It was wild, but also kind of epic. The idea of seven parallel universes, a magical school hidden within a regular university, and secret codes inside mugs and journals gave it this mash-up vibe—like Percy Jackson meets Spy Kids with a sprinkle of Inception. The dream sequence with the unicorn and the mermaid was unsettling and beautiful. I wasn’t always sure what was real, but I didn’t mind. That’s part of the charm.

The Pandora’s Box is an emotional rollercoaster wrapped in magic and teenage angst. It’s for anyone who ever felt like they didn’t belong or wanted to escape their reality just for a little while. It’s especially great for young teens who love fantasy but want stories with heart—and some very real-world grief. That said, even as an adult, I found it moving and imaginative.

Rating: 5


-- Review --

In this second installment of the Conjurers’ Prophecy series, the stakes are higher, the darkness is deeper, and the emotional gut-punches come harder. The Oberon Stone dives right back into the chaos where book one left off, with Liam’s powers growing out of control, old enemies regrouping, and new villains entering the game. We get a peek behind enemy lines—into the twisted mind of Montgomery and the broken-but-desperate heart of his daughter, Rachael. The story stretches across magical dimensions, haunting memories, and existential questions about fate, free will, and what it really means to be “good” or “chosen.”

The book kicks off with a literal storm of dark energy, grief, and desperation. Montgomery flying through chaos, clutching a dying Rachael is intense. And weirdly emotional. He’s awful—seriously, he’s terrifying—but seeing his panic over his daughter gives you this whiplash moment of almost-feeling sorry for him. The writing here is theatrical, like a twisted fairytale. The fairies trapped in a dark cave scrubbing stone for eternity is both horrifying and weirdly beautiful.

Then we’ve got the heart of the book—Chiara. Watching her spiral, question everything, and fall for Rachael’s manipulation felt like watching someone you love walk straight off a cliff while you’re screaming at them to stop. In the scene where she spies on Liam and Ada through water pipes I could feel her guilt like it was my own. But what really broke me was the final confrontation with Rachael. The choking spell, the pain, Chiara trying to survive and not wanting to hurt anyone was brutal. Rachael’s cruelty felt personal. The moment Chiara dies (or seems to—Franco loves to keep us guessing) was so vivid, so devastating, that I actually had to stop reading for a minute.

And Liam… poor Liam. He’s unraveling in real-time. One of my favorite moments is when he looks at Ada and says, “I’m tired.” It’s not dramatic. It’s raw. He’s lost so much—his mom, Chiara, maybe even Ada—and he’s still standing, still chasing birds and cryptic notes like his life depends on it. That moment when Titan (his maybe-dead, maybe-magical bird) leads him through the portal into a new world was actually kind of magical. For a second, there’s peace. Wonder. Then everything falls apart again, but that pause? That pink-sky, giant-mushroom pause? It gave the book a necessary breath before plunging us back into the deep.

I absolutely recommend The Oberon Stone. But be warned—it’s darker than book one. It’s emotionally heavier. It’s also bolder, messier, and richer. If you loved the first book, this one will break your heart and make you thank it for doing so. It’s for fans of character-driven fantasy who aren’t afraid to feel a little wrecked. Anyone into morally gray characters, epic stakes, and stories that feel like myths and memories wrapped into one—this is for you.


Warmly,
LS Franco

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