In the mid-1970s Gary Stewart seemed destined to burn up the charts with a string of drinking and cheating songs from a singularly possessed talent. He sang “Your Place or Mine” “Out of Hand” “She’s Actin’ Single (I’m Drinkin’ Doubles)” and other hits with an unearthly quaver that made damnation sound awfully tempting. By 1980 he had burned himself out at least as a country hitmaker all but disappearing from the public eye. Journalist McDonough decided to track him down to his Florida trailer home for one of those whatever-happened-to pieces which the Village Voice published in 1988. His extended visit to coax Stewart back into action included verbal challenges substance abuse a thrown knife and some brutal honesty on both sides. It also included McDonough’s deep dive into a vault of unreleased taped performances that convinced him that Stewart’s hits had barely scratched the surface of his artistry that Stewart was one of the greatest American musical artists of all time. When McDonough took his leave Stewart “encouraged me to write the story as I saw fit: ‘Don’t puss out on me bud. Tell it the Jimmy way.’” McDonough would go on to apply “the Jimmy way” to a series of critically incisive occasionally controversial biographies—Neil Young Tammy Wynette Al Green et al.—but the Stewart story is the one he couldn’t let go. He leaves nothing out here: OxyContin (“or ‘hillbilly heroin’ the media nickname Gary preferred”) moonshine meth and quaaludes; a volatile marriage and a familial history of drugs and dysfunction; suicides car crashes and skirmishes with the law. The result is more than 500 pages of mayhem and revelation a narrative that is often hilarious occasionally horrific and inevitably grim.

Henig an industrious author of books on Black history chronicles the remarkable life of Ron LeFlore who was in prison before starring with the Detroit Tigers. Drawing on his interviews with LeFlore the player’s 1978 memoir and other sources Henig evokes his subject’s tough boyhood in Detroit a city hindered by discriminatory housing and job markets industrial decline and decreasing tax revenue. The six people in LeFlore’s family shared a one-bedroom apartment where the children witnessed their father a heavy drinker beat their mother. At 10 LeFlore was drinking and smoking pot. He stole from local stores and eventually was convicted of armed robbery. Serving three-plus years in a Michigan prison LeFlore distinguished himself on multiple fronts. Henig’s research reveals that in addition to excelling in team sports LeFlore notched a “genius caliber” score on an intelligence test. LeFlore “had never played catch with his father” or suited up for a high school baseball team but foot speed hard work and the backing of a fellow prisoner with influential friends earned the Tigers’ attention. LeFlore’s story is inspiring but Henig avoids hagiography especially in his overview of LeFlore’s big-league career which was the subject of a made-for-TV movie starring LeVar Burton. LeFlore had notable success as a hitter and base-stealer—and a knack for “sabotaging his own success” by partying showing up late for games and failing to stay in shape. Henig’s prose usually does the job but he can be imprecise. He calls paid minor leaguers “future professionals” and credits LeFlore with 30 “consecutive hits” when he means that the player had base hits in 30 consecutive games. Baseball pedants will wince but this book is otherwise sturdy.

After Adam Barnett of Defiance Arizona is struck by lightning he awakens with a gap in his memory and an unfamiliar dog licking his face whom he calls Mop. Shortly afterward he’s attacked by “something out of a nightmare” that he’s unable to identify. He manages a narrow escape with Mop who turns out to be a runaway government research animal linked to a dangerous web of secrets. Simultaneously Maj. Blain Jacobson a U.S. Army Ranger with extensive combat experience and high-level analytical skills uncovers more than he bargains for when he looks into a fatal incident at a government research facility in North Scottsdale Arizona. Elsewhere in the state Victoria Stewart the daughter of a deceased U.S. Marine veteran and the survivor of an attempted car bombing desperately searches for a man she knows only as “Dark” whose voice haunts her in her dreams as he orders the killings of real people who later turn up dead. These three strangers’ fates intertwine as they try to root out the truth of their tangled predicaments—but in each case one misstep could prove fatal. Ewing excels at immersive pulse-pounding action scenes with visceral detail. The clipped no-nonsense language works alongside meticulous attention to specifics: “He was in the northwest corner. If he headed toward the south lobby he might run into whomever or whatever had shut off the lights. The loading dock was behind the killers to the north so that was out.” As the characters sustain significant injuries that affect their ability to function at top capacity the stakes become clearer. The book occasionally has trouble juggling its three complex integrated plotlines and it sometimes meanders; some characters’ interactions feel awkward at times as well. But the various players’ motives are sympathetic enough to sustain the plot and a satisfying conclusion leaves room for the story to continue.

Mama and Papa Duck celebrate the hatching of their eggs only to find that one is gone. Papa stays with their nine new ducklings while Mama sets off to find the missing tenth. Along the way she discovers four eggs hidden in nests but instead of ducklings they hatch a baby alligator a python a sea turtle and a bald eagle. The author repeats a playful refrain that builds anticipation before every reveal: “Pretty soon she felt a wiggle wiggle wiggle. She heard a crack crack crack. She jumped up to look and…” Just as she’s about to give up Mama Duck spots her errant egg and hatches duckling number 10 completing the happy family. This uncomplicated and clearly written read-aloud story manages to be educational without feeling didactic. Numbers up to 10 are introduced and reinforced the concept of oviparous animals is explained and an illustrated snail appears on most pages to provide an extra visual detail that young readers will enjoy spotting. This picture book succeeds because of its simplicity clarity and charm. Kids will delight in the surprise of unexpected animals hatching from the eggs; adults will appreciate the fun learning moments. Rogova’s full-page endearing illustrations complement the narrative perfectly.

The world of Terra is populated by five human clans known as the Tigers Birds Raccoons Shadows and Foxes. Long ago the godlike Patrons gave each clan different magical powers called “cannys.” Over time the cannys disappeared—at least for most people. After Jasper a 15-year-old Fox boy secretly sets a dangerous shape-shifter free it takes Jasper’s form and kills its original captors. The Tigers accuse Jasper of murder and take him into custody. DeBarco the sinister head of the Tigers persuades Harissa a Tiger teenager and the only female trainee in the Chame-lion program to bear false witness against Jasper. Harissa’s testimony is especially convincing because she has a canny that allows her to add thoughts and images to other people’s memories. After Jasper is found guilty he’s taken to the coliseum to be hanged but he escapes with the help of his father Argus and the shape-shifter Gallium. In the process he discovers his own canny—the rare ability to generate and cast a flaming substance called “chasma.” As Jasper journeys onward he makes even more shocking discoveries about his world his ancestry and his fate. Meanwhile Harissa uncovers troubling information about DeBarco and sets out on her own journey to reclaim her path. DiDesidero’s book is split between Jasper’s and Harissa’s close third-person perspectives and both are equally engaging. Although some readers particularly younger ones may have some trouble keeping the lore and accompanying terms and concepts straight the ideas themselves are compelling and unusual. DiDesidero supports the fine characterization and intriguing settings with expressive prose: “Harissa lay in a well of gravity so deep that time oozed by. Her limbs had no muscle. The dizzy world had her glued in place like a taxidermy person stuffed with cottony drugs.” It all results in an immersive fast-paced reading experience.

In the opening story “Christmas Holiday 1945” a veteran returning home to Chicago after Germany’s surrender prepares to meet the wife he hasn’t seen in two years. Upon arriving in America he visits his sister Edith a nun who’s about to embark on a missionary voyage to China. In “The Visit” a man named Rob struggles with feelings of guilt and loss as he travels from Detroit Michigan to Raleigh North Carolina in the wake of his mother’s death. In “Marooned in Marrakesh” a married couple visiting their son Mike who’s joined the Peace Corps find themselves stranded in Morocco on September 11 2001. “Recluse” follows Vincent Jackson a disabled Vietnam veteran who attends a music festival. A performer is murdered onstage and Jackson—who was also onstage at the time—is wrongly suspected of murder. A married couple in “Maggie” must put down a beloved pet and in “Hurricane Helene” residents of Asheville North Carolina try to recover after much of the town including the famous River Arts District is destroyed in a flood; “Hitchhiking to Hingning” recalls the story of Edith that was begun in the first vignette. These deeply engrossing slice-of-life episodes have the air of a folk song in which characters are quickly introduced (often in medias res) and presented with low-stakes problems. The lack of resolution in several tales only further enhances a sense of the uncanny. Certain tales stand out: “Christmas Holiday 1945” beautifully conveys the anxiety and jubilation of the first Christmas after the war’s end “Marooned in Marrakesh” and “Recluse” feature people in desperate straits who command the reader’s sympathy and the character of Vincent Jackson feels like someone dreamed up by Johnny Cash or Kenny Rogers. Despite the occasional anachronism (such as a woman in the 1940s eating sesame chicken which didn’t gain popularity until the ’70s) the stories set in the past are immersive and credibly rendered.

The best part of Callie McFee’s post-work evening run is chatting with Barney an unhoused man who always sits on the same park bench on her route. Thanks to her brother State a local homicide detective she’s one of the first people to hear the tragic news of her friend’s fatal shooting. Just as shocking is the notepad that cops find on Barney which suggests he was compiling information on Callie herself. This discovery makes the McFees nervous; she’d confided quite a lot to Barney and one particular tidbit—her power-broker father’s dementia—is one that the family has long fought to keep secret. The authorities surmise that Barney’s death was a mugging gone wrong but something more sinister may be afoot. As Callie looks into the case she discovers that he wasn’t the man she thought she knew; he’d jotted notes about other people as well including Callie’s new “bench buddies” whom she meets over the course of her investigation. These were Barney’s friends but if there’s a chance that he uncovered something incriminating about one of them they’re all potential suspects. One could easily say the same thing about the McFees however—and indeed Callie and State do what they can to prevent their father’s condition from going public. Circumstances become more dire when one of Barney’s friends is brutally murdered. Callie vows to get to the bottom of it all even if it means confronting a merciless killer.

Conrad’s whodunit offers exemplary plotting opening with a scene that reintroduces series hero Callie and establishes Barney as her warmhearted confidant. It’s not long before there’s a murder followed by a string of surprises such as what Barney’s pal Daisy finds when she pokes around his former bench. Callie is a smart and sublimely practical gumshoe; she knows exactly what police do at a crime scene and although she doesn’t immediately tell State about every piece of evidence she finds she keeps him informed as much as possible. The seemingly simple case turns increasingly complex especially after more characters enter the narrative—each new “bench buddy” for instance comes with a fresh personality and a backstory that on occasion isn’t entirely true. Standouts among the cast include the gruff but reliable State; Gil Morales Callie’s father’s plainspoken “number two”; and a few suspects whom Callie gradually learns to trust. The book’s abundant dialogue scenes pop and Callie picks up many details through casual conversation. Her deductive skills are without question as well; she takes her time deciphering the shorthand in Barney’s notepads and she notices when people slip up (although maybe not right away). As in the preceding installment Sins of the Family (2022) the humor is quick and sharp: Gil for example sidelines a discussion with Callie by noting “I need to get you ready for a funeral.” “I’m not that bad off” she jokes to which he clarifies “Not yours.”

“The authors of these articles all have day jobs” writes Doti in his preface. “Somehow some way they carved out enough time to experience and then record their adventures pushing against the boundaries that often constrain the range of life’s offerings.” The contributors—Scott Chapman Ryan Dahlem Adam Doti Lynne Doti Daniele Struppa and Dan Temianka—recount the broadly varied expeditions they’ve undertaken from climbing famous mountains like Rainier Kilimanjaro and Everest to running famous meets including Tanzania’s Mount Meru International Marathon and the Boston Marathon. These events range from high-profile and well-organized endeavors like summiting Mount Denali which requires long and careful preparation to the far more ramshackle and informal such as the Mount Meru run in which Jim Doti and the other runners found themselves navigating roads filled with people donkeys and cows (“Evidently there was no traffic control for the marathon”). Each chapter features plenty of color photos of the smiling participants camping out in exotic locales. Most of the entries highlight the most human moments: “after the Boston medal was placed around my neck” Jim Doti writes “I turned right at Clarendon Street and walked a half block to Hancock Tower where it wasn’t long before I was showering under a steaming spray of hot soothing and redemptive water.” This element of relatability is the book’s strongest and most winning throughline; Doti starts off the collection by asserting that the friends songs and meals were the point of it all not the peaks reached or the miles logged. He recites Mark Twain’s dictum to “Explore. Dream. Discover” as he looks back on “all the laughs the cold winds the relentless climb up the mountain the lessons [he] learned the beautiful sights [he] saw the new friends [he] met.” Charmingly this sense of appreciation extends even to the discovery of a new book.

When 12-year-old Julia Pemberton vanishes from a classmate’s birthday party on a sweltering August day in 1985 the citizens of the small town of Chatham North Carolina band together to find her. Julia’s athletic best friend Dell Jenkins becomes haunted by how little she remembers about the day that Julia vanished while Julia’s father Tommy spirals into depression and rage as he desperately searches for his child. Betsy Glass the wife of the local dentist agonizes over how the community will judge her and her family because the girl disappeared from their home. As months pass and the trail grows cold the rhythm of small-town life continues even without Julia’s sweet buoyant presence although the disappearance shines a light on how the Glasses the Pembertons and the Jenkinses are interconnected and unsavory facts are revealed. Despite everything Dell remains determined to find her friend. Richards’ clever decision to present the story from three distinct first-person perspectives—those of Dell Tommy and Betsy—allows her to nimbly view the effects of Julia’s disappearance from dynamic angles. As such this Southern gothic novel focuses more on the impact of a crime on a small community than it does on the minutiae of the police investigation. Richards’ tendency to brush over investigative intricacies prevents the novel from building suspense but the author shines at honoring the humanity of people in crisis. The novel’s rapid conclusion may strike some readers as too neat but the well-honed portrayal of characters’ emotions more than compensates.

This illustrated feast frames Fire Island not simply as a queer sanctuary but as an incubator of queer style across the 20th century. Dempsey president of the Fire Island Pines Historical Society is an engaging guide to a vibrant history: Readers learn that Oscar Wilde is said to have visited in Cherry Grove in 1882; same-sex couples danced at Duffy’s in the 1930s (“after the hotel’s owners went to bed”); and in 1952 Lone Hill was rebranded as Fire Island Pines with lots advertised for as little as $275. Pilgrims followed including W.H. Auden Frank O’Hara and Andrew Holleran (whose 1978 novel Dancer From the Dance supplies the perfect metaphor: “nothing but a sandbar as slim as a parenthesis”). At its best the book links libido to the aesthetics of sun sand sea and skin: Richard Meyer writes about the artistic and sexual ménage à trois of Paul Cadmus Jared French and Margaret French (aka PaJaMa); Philip Gefter tells of a shy but excitable Richard Avedon gradually shedding his clothes; and Fabio Cherstich provides a vivid account of David Hockney’s 1975 summer sojourn including a page from his scrapbook for host Arthur Lambert. The second half widens the lens: Andy Warhol’s diaries; Sam Ashby’s queer cinematic history (“a fantasy of a fantasy”); Ksenia M. Soboleva on lesbian absence; and a conversation between photographer Lola Flash and poet and actress Pamela Sneed about grief in the shadow of the AIDS epidemic. But while the 1980s haunts the edges the thesis holds: As Thomas Mann wrote in Death in Venice “We artists cannot tread the path of Beauty without Eros keeping company with us.”

The Waga-Laga Bugs are a family of three beetles: one larger blue-green and roach-like; one pinky-orange and antlered; and one yellow and child-sized with glasses. More than anything the Waga-Laga Bugs love to play. They try to convince the bees to join them but they’re too busy preparing for a storm as are the ants ladybugs spider and caterpillar. All these would-be playmates warn the Waga-Laga Bugs of the approaching danger. A butterfly tells them: “Careful Waga-Laga Bugs! If all you do is play / you may not have the things you need when TROUBLE comes your way.” But the Waga-Laga Bugs won’t listen instead offering a denial whose repeated refrain children will boisterously embrace: “But the Waga-Laga Bugs said Nah. NO WAY! / We only wanna Waga-Laga Taga-Laga PLAY!” This carefree life philosophy gets curtailed by a spectacular lightning-skewered two-page “BOOM” when the storm hits. The Waga-Laga Bugs learn their lesson and they start helping the others when there’s work to be done. Chitty narrates in rhyming couplets whose trochaic heptameter (and occasional octameter) gives the text a chanty twisty clap-along momentum. Attema-Welte brings the action to life through lusciously textured watery smudgy illustrations that burst with joy and yet embrace the darker end of the rainbow spectrum. A three-page factual addendum supplements the learnings already imparted.

Devra Denniston is a very successful (and very private) scientist and academic who as the story opens is at her 75th birthday party. Her best friend journalist Alison Mellows wants to write Devra’s biography which she proposes as a gift. Devra resists strenuously at first but later she falls mysteriously ill with a malady whose severity fluctuates dangerously. Alison (whom Devra calls “Angela”) later discovers a cache of her friend’s writings. Devra is not only a respected scientist but a talented wordsmith and the bulk of the book consists of selections of Devra’s writings which serve as fodder for Alison’s research into her subject. Some are clearly fictional tales others are transcriptions of dreams and still others lie in a tantalizing gray area. Devra may in fact be a fabulist of the first order and neither Alison nor the reader ever really knows the truth. The key term here is uncertain—a term that permeates everything. Devra never warmed to her parents for example which leads to questions: Did her father abuse her? Was she in fact adopted? Did she a woman who never married have a child whom she surrendered for adoption? Eventually Alison is encouraged to write and publish her long-planned biography and in a final sardonic twist the initially poorly selling book later becomes a bestseller for the wrong reasons.

Readers may wonder if the novel is intended as an honest exploration of its themes or if it’s an elaborate put-on. Its main theme seems to hinge on the distinction as it explores the boundaries between reality and imagination; Devra has been struggling with such duality all her life. Certainty and uncertainty also play a large part in the narrative—so much so that Alison eventually opts for uncertainty because it leaves open possibilities that the other option closes off: “Uncertainty like hope leaves the door open for a miracle to slip through”—a fair point and one of the easier ones to grasp. However the book’s discussion of reality and imagination brings to mind familiar conundrums such as the old Taoist story in which Zhuang Zhou dreams of being a butterfly and then wonders if he’s actually a butterfly dreaming of being a man. There are really only two characters in the story—“Angela” and Devra; later the situation changes and “Angela” can be Alison again. These symbolic nudges surface again and again and one starts to wonder how close these “blood sisters” really are. There are a couple of points when it seems as if “Angela” and Devra have switched places in the narrative. In any other book one might pass it off as a simple slip-up but such is the atmosphere of deception and gaslighting in this story that readers can’t truly be sure; perhaps they are all part of the joke.

Evan Weaver an English teenager from Elmwood Vale keeps his warlock identity secret. Although magic is legal in witches’ and warlocks’ homes—as long as it doesn’t affect the mundane—only Gran a witch herself knew the truth about Evan and she warned him that “People fear what they don’t understand and fear makes them do terrible things.” Evan’s own father is a witchfinder someone who hunts down witches and warlocks and strips away their magic. Orpheus whose late father was human has an angel mother who escorts the dead to the afterlife but her keys have been stolen. Without them the doors between the mortal and spirit realms can’t be properly locked and no one can die. Orpheus’ mother like the witchfinders is quick to blame witches for the theft. While she must remain in the Hall of Styx she sends Orpheus to the human world—in the form of a teenage human boy—to retrieve the keys. After they meet and he detects Evan’s warlock identity Orpheus asks him for help with his mission. The novel would have benefited from further exploration and development of the story’s Greek mythology elements but the white-presenting boys’ naturally progressing relationship is just as lovely as Orpheus’ declaration that “Whether it’s romantic or platonic love persists beyond life.”

Suitcase and surfboard in tow Fox sets out on foot to catch a wave. En route to the beach he passes a bus a train and a plane (“catching” none of them) though Tabor’s images of these modes of transportation invite readers to catch fun details such as a pigeon riding the bus a bat hanging upside down on the train and a turtle waving from the cockpit of a vintage biplane. Then Fox catches a wave on his surfboard still toting his suitcase and rides it to shore. From here Tabor provides a gently slapstick series of events—involving a tumble down a waterfall and a splash in a chilly pool of water—culminating in Fox catching a cold. A final wordless image offers a laugh-out-loud punchline to the story with Fox dreaming of catching a bus in a most unusual way. In this latest clever offering in his winning series Tabor writes in short sentences with controlled vocabulary to make text accessible for the newest of readers while illustrations rendered in pencil and watercolor add visual interest and humor.

Every Western historian knows the name of Frederick Jackson Turner who in 1893 declared that the American frontier was closed. (It was just a year after Wounded Knee after all pretty well the closing shots of the American Indian Wars.) No one remembers Turner’s wife Mae. Granted that she figures only slightly in Nelson’s narrative Mae Turner is emblematic of the fact that women are often airbrushed out of Western history apart from inevitable characters like Annie Oakley and Calamity Jane. Nelson restores women to history most vividly in her account of the Sonoran entrepreneur María Gertrudis Barceló who settled in Santa Fe at the upper reaches of New Spain in 1815 and made a fortune as a saloon keeper gambler and businesswoman. Another of the seven chief players in Nelson’s account is the “Black Indian” Jim Beckwourth a reliable go-between among white settlers and Indians along the Front Range of the Rockies until he made the unforgivable error of guiding a murderous militia to the site of a Cheyenne and Arapaho encampment that would give its name to the Sand Creek Massacre. Had he not Beckwourth later told a group of Cheyenne leaders “the white chief would have hung me.” The Cheyenne were unconvinced. Still another player in Nelson’s account was Polly Bemis a Chinese immigrant who “embodied the characteristics of the white pioneer.” All were significant in their time and all are largely forgotten today and for various reasons chief among them by Nelson’s account the flourishing of the myth of the frontier in Turner’s time and ever after one that “whitened the West and this transformation resulted in the oppression of Indigenous peoples women of all races and ethnicities and migrant communities.” While Nelson’s narrative sometimes plods it makes a valuable corrective.

For the past two years Driver X has been the getaway driver for the Tiger Syndicate. When he was younger all he could think about was being a racer and winning glory but chasing his dreams and going against his father’s wishes led to X getting into a major accident. Now his family thinks he’s dead and it’s safer for them if they continue to believe that. But when X’s younger brother Speed Racer shows up on the racing circuit X knows he can’t stay off the track any longer; someone needs to be there to watch his brother’s back. Using the skills his father forced him to master as a teen X designs the “Shooting Star” which is more than just a race car—it comes with everything X will need to knock other drivers out of the race and ensure Speed Racer’s win. Just one other minor hiccup: When X left the Tiger Syndicate he took the money from their latest bank robbery and left them high and dry and now they’re gunning for him. (“Formula X has the highest mortality rate of any sport” and it’s even worse when the head of a gang puts a hit out on you.) In this action-packed graphic novel Russell and artist Nuno Plati deliver an exciting tale that takes place in the world of the famous Speed Racer featuring Speed’s mysterious sibling the track phantom formerly known as Rex Racer. The kinetic artwork depicting chaotic racing scenes and flashy cars is sure to delight any longtime fans of the series (and attract new ones). The narrative blends a redemption story a battle between good and evil and a good old-fashioned racing drama; there’s something here for everyone (even a little romance when X and the mischievous racer Hellkitten share a kiss). Fast fun and feisty this adventure is sure to please. The volume includes a short story “Episode 0” at the end of the book.

A violent entity attempts to kill her by possessing anyone Egyptian American Mina is alone with. To protect her friends and family Mina cuts them off without explanation retreating as she searches for a solution. The only person who seems to understand what she’s facing is Jesse Talbot her reclusive classmate and neighbor who presents white. He reveals that he carries a similar burden. As Mina and Jesse investigate they discover that the intergenerational curse Mina is living with is tied to her maternal line. Mina struggles under the weight of fear and feelings of cultural dislocation and as her late mother’s past rises to meet her she must make an impossible choice between two heartbreaking outcomes. In her YA debut Hashem delivers an engaging cohesive genre-blending novel executing the concept of a monster that weaponizes isolation with clarity and mounting suspense and seamlessly incorporating Egyptian Arabic and other culturally rooted details. Mina and Jesse’s developing relationship is grounded in mutual vulnerability bringing a warmth and romantic intimacy that effectively strikes an equilibrium with the horror elements. Mina’s struggle to belong to understand her family’s past and to reconcile the parts of herself shaped by two worlds gives the novel a lingering emotional depth.

Fourteen-year-old Mikayla Grebe is days away from taking the Fulfilled Genetic Potential test and proving she’s worth society’s investment. The fear of losing Elite status and becoming a Defective or an Expendable always looms. She knows that “you can lose everything in a moment”—like her friend Carmen who vanished with her family one day. But shortly before the test Mikayla learns her GRC is lower than she thought sending her on a high-stakes journey accompanied by her friend Garith Marquez out of the Elite zone to see what’s been hidden from her all her life. The more Mikayla learns and the more people she meets the more she questions her society’s priorities and starts to dismantle her own assumptions many instilled in her by her brilliant and ambitious mother. The story’s countdown structure starting six days before the FGP enhances the tension and makes readers aware of the stakes as Mikayla’s test approaches a beloved teacher disappears and steely Dr. Ava who runs the weekly lab assessment targets her. Debut author Monders’ detailed worldbuilding includes just enough hints about the past to create a convincing dystopian world. Mikayla develops a strong moral core and inwardly declares “I can make a difference just by being me.” Dark-haired Mikayla has “medium-light” skin and Garith has light brown skin.

With overtones of both Predator and Lord of the Flies Reintgen’s latest includes a power struggle and multiple secret agendas which come into play after a storm-tossed disaster leads to a rapidly rising body count among the dwindling handful of survivors. The author’s proven flair for concocting unusual sorts and strains of magic is on full display too. The largely white-presenting human cast includes Marken Burke a wizard who’s being transported in chains to be tried for mass murder and Pearl Trask a young pig keeper who proves to be nursing more secrets than just a sideline in trafficking deadly animals. Plus in a terrifying embodiment of William Golding’s imaginary beast there’s a cunning murderous dragoness who escaped during the crash and whose ability to become virtually invisible by adopting anything she touches—from rocks and water to flesh—as a camouflaging “skin” leads to a thrillingly gruesome climactic battle. Whether Marken is a wronged character who’s worthy of sympathy or a conceited and manipulative crumb Pearl at least can see right through him to the good heart beneath. By the open-ended finish the two have found enough common ground for tender budding romance and mutual respect.

Sam is in her early 30s two years out of her English and Comparative Literature Ph.D. program and like many of her cohort barely scraping by as an adjunct. When she lands a spot at Rosedale an elite private college as a last-minute replacement for an older professor her problems seem temporarily solved. Sam is optimistic even if her schedule is grueling and her salary minuscule; even if the classes she’s teaching—The Masculine Voice and The Campus Novel—are barely veiled attacks on the #MeToo movement; even if the person who hires her says “I just need a live body.” Then on her first day Sam runs into another recent hire: Tom Sternberg her grad-school adviser with whom she’d had a complexly intimate relationship. Sam discovers Tom’s long-awaited new novel centers around an older professor “reckoning with his checkered past” as the “feminist movement sweep[ing] the nation” emboldens a bitter former student to publicize their affair. The premise sounds familiar to Sam as does the female antagonist—and she certainly sounds familiar to Sam’s grad-school classmates who close ranks against her. Reeling under Tom’s repurposing of their shared history as a springboard back into relevance and stung by reviews lauding the book as “fiercely honest” Sam begins a downward spiral that gains speed as she nears rock bottom. The harsh realities of Sam’s exploitation by systems that were meant to both educate and employ her are leavened by the character’s wry humor; however the novel suffers at times from a reliance on expository info-dumps to underscore its critique of higher education’s abuses which are more effectively explored in-scene. Regardless this exposé of academia from the perspective of its most vulnerable residents offers a vital message at a time when it’s easy to forget what’s supposed to be at the center of all institutions: people—messy unpredictable and filled with fragile hope.