The “women with secrets” trend in publishing (Gone Girl, The Girl on the Train) shows no signs of easing with the release of I Let You Go, a gripping debut thriller set in England. A brief prologue sets the stage: A mother and son are headed home after school on a rainy afternoon. Suddenly, a “car comes from nowhere.” The child is hit and killed, and the car takes off. 

This terrible tragedy is investigated by middle-aged police detective Ray and his idealistic, rookie partner, Kate. Ray’s marriage is not what it used to be, especially since his teenage son, Tom, has grown sullen and distant. 

Then there’s Jenna Gray. Haunted by the accident and lamenting the loss of a son she loved “with an intensity that seemed impossible,” she runs away to an isolated coastal town. Her story alternates with Ray and Kate’s as they investigate and begin blurring the lines between the personal and the professional. Author Clare Mackintosh also introduces one more dastardly character who will bring everyone together—that is, if he doesn’t kill someone first.

A former law enforcement officer, Mackintosh was inspired to write I Let You Go by a similar real-life case, as well as the loss of her own son, and her experience lends her characters’ actions and feelings a visceral realism. Jenna’s grief is genuine and well-wrought, while the peril she eventually faces is convincing. Ray and Kate, meanwhile, are an engaging, authentic duo. I Let You Go is undeniably a page-turner.

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

How well can you know a person, even a person you’ve loved and lived with for decades? This is the question posed by Phaedra Patrick’s gentle, funny and wistful first novel, The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper.

The curious charms mentioned in the title are not attributes of Arthur Pepper, a rather ordinary pensioner from Yorkshire. They are actual charms found on a bracelet that belonged to his late wife, Miriam. Arthur’s investigations show them to be mementos of specific times, people and places in her life. It seems that the outwardly contented wife and mother that Arthur knew was a very different person before they met and married.

As Arthur uncovers Miriam’s past, the charms of Arthur himself become more evident. Amazingly old-fashioned, he seems not to have come of age in the 1960s but the 1950s or earlier; this made the reviewer think, "Come on, this chap is younger than Mick Jagger." But this is part of the book’s sweetness. 

A virgin when he married, Arthur has never been with another woman; even chastely kissing an old friend of Miriam’s makes him feel vaguely adulterous. He dutifully waters his fern, whom he has named Frederica. He treats even the weirdest people he meets on his quest with kindness and frets that his stodginess squashed something adventurous in his wife. Arthur’s charms, in this charmless age, are curious indeed.

Charming, too, is Patrick’s straightforward and unadorned style. Because of this, when Arthur’s grief overwhelms him like the tiger who almost eats him at one point—you have to read the book—it pierces the heart. You root for him every step of the way.

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

First, we had The Devil Wears Prada, written by a former assistant at Vogue. Now comes The Assistants, a novel by Camille Perri, a former assistant to Esquire’s editor-in-chief, which similarly shines a light on the underpaid gatekeepers to the one percent. The difference in this book is that our heroine gets ahead by illicit means. This isn’t exactly the stuff fluffy romances are made of—it owes more to Robin Hood, or maybe Bonnie and Clyde, if Bonnie left Clyde in the car and distributed her spoils among her friends.

In The Assistants, 30-year-old Tina Fontana works for fictional titan Robert Barlow. Robert is capitalism personified: He’s cutthroat in the boardroom, but generous at home. He drops businessmen who cross him, but loves his wife. He manipulates the media, but oozes Southern charm in real life. Tina dedicates herself to him, masters his schedule and earns his trust.

But Tina also owes thousands in student loans, and she realizes that no matter how hard she works, earning $50K a year in Manhattan will never let her get out from under it. Her friends, almost exclusively assistants, are in the same boat. They attended expensive colleges only to land in a job market that has them running errands and cutting cocktail limes for the rich and famous. As they watch their bosses spend massive amounts on expensive meals, jewelry and liquor, it’s no wonder they’re tempted to reach for the money that literally passes through their fingers.

Perri, who has also worked as a books editor for Cosmopolitan, has an assured voice and grounds her story and characters well. The Assistants is an economic fable, a story of class warfare dressed up as chick lit. We have the familiar heroine, the love interest, a quirky band of 20-something girlfriends and a New York City setting complete with cheap apartments and expensive cocktails. But the real story is Tina’s search for justice and compensation for her hard work—a timely theme in a world where so many expensive college educations yield underpaid menial jobs and years of unpaid internships. Powerful people of the world, take notice: The assistants will have their revenge.

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

No one can accuse Martin Seay of lacking ambition. His first novel, The Mirror Thief, is a 600-page thrill ride across three centuries and two continents. But this is hardly a punishment for readers. It’s a workout, but of the intellectual kind: part crime thriller and part meditation on poetry, with unexpected plot twists and references to famous figures as diverse as the French dramatist Antonin Artaud and Jay Leno.

The action moves back and forth among three different parts of the world and three distinct eras. In 2003, on the eve of the second Gulf War, Curtis Stone, a 40-year-old African-American ex-Marine, arrives in Las Vegas from his Philadelphia home. A club owner named Damon has hired Curtis to search for gambler Stanley Glass, ostensibly to collect on a marker. Curtis has trouble locating the elusive Stanley, but he finds one of Stanley’s treasured possessions: a slender volume of poems, “The Mirror Thief,” written in 1958 by a proto-beatnik named Adrian Welles.

Cut to 1958, when Stanley, a 16-year-old card sharp fresh off the train from Staten Island, shows up in Malibu, California, in hope of meeting Welles. Stanley, who adores Welles’ poems, wants to talk about “The Mirror Thief” and its mysterious subject: a 16th-century alchemist named Crivano. The novel’s wildly ambitious third segment takes us to Venice in 1592, where a sultan has sent the murderous Crivano to “locate craftsmen adept at fashioning the flawless mirrors for which every civilized land celebrates the isle of Murano, and return with those craftsmen to the Ottoman court.”

The Mirror Thief is overstuffed with incident and period detail, but it’s still an impressive feat of imagination. Much of this book, Seay seems to be saying, is like one’s reflection in a mirror: What you see in front of you isn’t the whole story.

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

One of the great mysteries of the early years of North America’s settlement by Europeans is the lost Roanoke colony. In 1587, 118 people, including children, settled there but later disappeared without a trace. Just a few cryptic clues remained that hinted at their possible fate. What drove them from their settlement? Illness? Native attack? Internal strife?

Essayist and founding editor of Gray’s Sporting Journal Ed Gray dreams up a few possible answers in his first novel, Left in the Wind: The Roanoke Journal of Emme Merrimoth. Gray chooses Emme, an actual Roanoke colonist, as the narrator for his tale. Through her eyes, we experience the new colonists’ distress as they make the difficult crossing from England, their struggle to establish a new home in the wilderness of North Carolina, the dramas and jealousies between families and the disintegration of a community. 

Is Gray correct in his explanation of Roanoke’s demise? It’s impossible to say, but his idea is as good as any. Part historical novel, part detective story, Left in the Wind is filled with fascinating details of colonial settlement life and Native-American culture. It’s a gripping story that readers will have trouble putting down.

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

When a protagonist spends 90 percent of a book making awful choices, the reader can be in for a slog. Yet despite main character Cassie Sunday’s penchant for self-destructive behavior, Lisa Beazley’s winning Keep Me Posted is pure pleasure to read.

During Christmas at their grandparents’ house in Ohio—and over many glasses of wine—Cassie, who lives in Manhattan, and her sister, Sid, who lives in Singapore, bemoan how out of touch they’ve become. Sid eschews social media, and the time difference makes phone calls nearly impossible. The tipsy sisters pledge to spend a year writing each other good old-fashioned letters.

By the time Cassie returns to New York with her husband Leo and their young son, she already has a letter from Sid. Bored and lonely since quitting her job to be a fulltime mom, Cassie throws herself into the letter-writing project. Soon the sisters are divulging their deepest secrets, including Cassie’s drunken kiss with her ex-boyfriend, who is now a rising-star chef, and Sid’s suspicions that her husband is being unfaithful.

Inspired to preserve the letters, Cassie sets up a private blog and scans their letters in. But a glitch in the blog’s system makes all their letters public, and soon #slownewssisters is trending online. Cassie has to decide whether she should tell Leo and let him read about her bad choices, or hope it blows over.

Despite Cassie’s reckless behavior, she is a character with heart and brains, and the rich back-and-forth between the sisters is poignant. Keep Me Posted is a wonderfully modern epistolary novel, in which the letter-writing tradition collides head-on with the perils of technology.

Readers who devour quirky family dramas like Where’d You Go, Bernadette and Be Frank With Me won’t want to miss this anticipated debut about a dysfunctional New York City family. In The Nest, the four adult Plumb children have been counting on their inheritance: Melody has two daughters to send to college, Jack needs some cash to keep his struggling business afloat, and Beatrice is years overdue with her second novel. But when their fresh-out-of-rehab oldest brother, Leo, loses it all, the siblings must reshape their futures. 

Author Cynthia D’Aprix Sweeney worked as a marketing copywriter before turning to fiction. She’s at her best when describing the fluctuating sibling bonds within a large family—the uneasy alliances, the simmering resentments, the unspoken secrets and the fierce love. She also nails the ways the money can affect relationships, in ways large and small. Smart, moving and warm-hearted, The Nest is a debut to savor.

This article was originally published in the April 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

For folks who were there, the New City York of 1980 was the best of times and the worst of times. The city was a cauldron of energy, creativity and wonderful freakishness. It was the city of Basquiat and Keith Haring’s hit-and-run works of art—and even a place where rents were cheap if you lived in Greenwich Village or Alphabet City. AIDS had not yet ravaged the city like a daikaiju from outer space. It was a place where a girl from Ketchum, Idaho, or an orphan from Argentina could come and dream big, make it big and yes, fail big.

Molly Prentiss’ Tuesday Nights in 1980 follows several linked characters during the year in question. There’s Lucy, the innocent girl from Ketchum and her lover, Engales, the ambitious painter from Argentina, who has escaped that country’s encroaching fascism as well as a quasi-incestuous relationship with his sister. James is an art critic noted for incorporating his synesthesia into his reviews. To him art, people and things are jumbles of vibrant sensations and colors. He is drawn to Lucy because she’s as fluorescent yellow as a squash blossom. Engales, who he meets after the artist suffers a disfiguring accident, fascinates him with his blueness. James’ wife, Marge, is red.

Because James knows all these people with varying degrees of intense intimacy, everything in the book will get very, very complicated. How can it not? It was 1980.

The book is such an accomplished and surefooted work that it’s amazing to learn that it’s a debut. Prentiss’ descriptions of New York and its fractious art scene will make those who were there almost nostalgic, and her deep empathy for her characters, messed up as some of them are, is moving. She pulls off the difficult feat of making dialogue sound like conversations overheard in the next room. Tuesday Nights in 1980 is a discerning, passionate and humane work.

This article was originally published in the April 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

You may not be familiar with the name Manuel Gonzales, but once you’ve had the pleasure of delving into one of his out-of-the-ordinary literary creations, you won’t forget it. A graduate of Columbia University’s creative writing program, Gonzales has previously shared his unique brand of storytelling via publications such as Timothy McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern and The Believer. His first collection of short stories, The Miniature Wife (2013), received much acclaim, including the Sue Kaufman Prize for First Fiction.

In his debut novel, The Regional Office Is Under Attack!, Gonzales conjures a futuristic world of super-powered female assassins—part of an organization called the Regional Office. Two women are at the heart of the conflict: ardently loyal Sarah and defector Rose. While Sarah (and her curious mechanical arm) looked to the Regional Office as her savior after the disappearance of her mother, Rose sees corruption and betrayal within the organization’s leadership. Filling out the cast are their fellow agents; their recruiter and mentor Henry; and, of course, the secretive individuals behind the scenes pulling all the strings. Backstory on each character and the Regional Office itself is delicately spliced between action-packed scenes, making this a wonderfully choreographed narrative. The moment you think you have a grasp on the truth about the Regional Office, Gonzales tosses in a twist that will have you questioning your understanding all over again. 

The amount of detail Gonzales infuses into this world makes it come alive in an engaging, quirky and delightful way, creating a perfect backdrop to a page-turning plot. Gonzales’ tale has something for every reader: Double agents! Secret romantic trysts! Conspiracy! Fight scenes! Friendships gone awry! At its core, however, The Regional Office Is Under Attack! is ultimately a tale of vengeance—one during which you’ll find yourself struggling to choose a side.

This article was originally published in the April 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Richard Baumbach is technically a Hollywood producer, but at 29, he has yet to actually produce anything noteworthy. So when he gets a mysterious proposal via a lawyer—spend two hours a week for a year with a woman he’s never heard of and get half a million dollars—Richard jumps at the chance.

Elizabeth Santiago, however, is much less sure. A successful attorney with no social life—her co-workers call her La Máquina, or The Machine, for her billable hours—Elizabeth wonders why anyone would pay her to spend time with the handsome, aimless Richard. But she reluctantly agrees. 

The first few meetings are awkwardness incarnate. Richard’s exuberance and Elizabeth’s bookish reserve are like oil and water. To make the time pass, they agree to discuss books (her choice) and movies (his) each week. As they get to know each other, the forced dates become something they both look forward to, but they each have reasons to be hesitant about admitting any attraction. Instead, they team up to discover who has set them up, with a million dollars on the line.

In addition to being a smart, funny rom-com, The Decent Proposal is also a love letter to one of America’s strangest and most singular cities. “To love L.A. is to love a mess,” Donovan writes. “A jumble of sand, concrete, sunsets, and strip malls; a snake’s nest of highways on top of which the full emotional spectrum, from rage to carelessness, may be witnessed inside every single hour of the day.”

Donovan’s debut novel shimmers like a Los Angeles sunset. The characters are unforgettable, the dialogue crackles, and the ending is an absolute killer. The Decent Proposal is a story about taking chances and finding love in the most unlikely ways.

This article was originally published in the April 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.