In as little as 24 hours, your life can irrevocably change. Gilly Macmillan unflinchingly explores this reality in her second novel, The Perfect Girl. A year after publishing her bestselling, Edgar-nominated debut novel, What She Knew, Macmillan captivates readers with a story just as addictive as her first.

The titular “Perfect” girl is 17-year-old genius musician Zoe. Zoe and her mother, Maria, have been outcast from their former community after Zoe was found guilty of driving under the influence and killing three local teenagers, including her best friend. Maria has remarried into what is dubbed the “Second Chance Family,” which includes new husband Chris and his teenage son, Lucas, both oblivious to Zoe and Maria’s marred past. Their lives are intertwined with Sam, Zoe’s former lawyer; Tessa, Zoe’s aunt and Maria’s sister; and Richard, Tessa’s loving yet alcoholic husband.

The relationships in the “Second Chance Family” are fraught with secrets. Brooding Lucas is obviously carrying around the weight of his own past, while Maria maintains a precarious presentation of herself and Zoe to meet the expecations of suspiciously controlling Chris. When Maria is found dead, the thread holding everyone together unravels during the next 24 hours. Having already been institutionalized, Zoe fears she will become the prime suspect, but those closest to Maria and Zoe cannot be discounted as potential murderers.

Macmillan shines when exploring the intricacies of relationships, and the ties that bind this family are strained and complicated indeed. The story is told from the perspective of only three narrators: Zoe, Tessa and Sam. Yet through these lenses, we gain intimate insight into the other characters in whom we have become so invested. Macmillan adeptly demonstrates through her chosen method of storytelling that 24 hours can pass in what seems like a second—or a lifetime.

Macmillan has provided a follow-up novel possibly even better than her first, and fans of Tana French, Ruth Ware and Gillian Flynn will become completely entrenched in the unfolding details. 

Comparisons to Lee Child’s Jack Reacher are inevitable when considering many action thriller novels with larger-than-life heroes. But when Child himself makes note of it, you know the book at hand has got to be pretty damn good. Such is the case with Erik Storey’s debut novel, Nothing Short of Dying. In a prominent book cover blurb, Child says: “Reacher is keeping an eye on this guy.” And so should you.

The novel follows loner Clyde Barr—adventurer, soldier and most recently an unjustly imprisoned convict—as he attempts to blend into his Utah countryside and escape the burdens of humanity. But as fate would have it, he receives a desperate call for help from his estranged sister Jen and must drop everything to come to her aid.

With the help of plucky bartender Allie and some rather unsavory former associates, Clyde quickly tracks his sister’s whereabouts to a mountain hideaway in Colorado where she is being kept prisoner by a ruthless criminal. Clyde boldly mounts a rescue operation with his sidekicks, resulting in an explosive exchange of gunfire and fisticuffs. The rugged countryside lends itself well to the story, creating a bleak, rugged landscape for Clyde to play in, like a classic Western showdown.

Storey doesn’t pull any punches with his crisp, in-your-face dialogue and vivid action, and neither does his hero. Clyde’s sense of commitment to his sister is both emotional and inspirational as he confronts seemingly impossible odds. Jack Reacher would be proud.

Edie is in her 30s, lives alone, works as a waitress and is pregnant. Hers is an unremarkable life, except for the horrific secret she keeps buried in her past. Edie has all but erased that moment by cutting off contact with her mother, moving far from her sleepy hometown and, most importantly, not speaking with Heather—her best friend who was also involved—for 17 years. But when Edie suffers from severe postpartum depression, she becomes physically incapable of caring for the baby. When Heather unexpectedly appears at Edie’s side, offering to move in and help with little Maya, Edie knows that for the sake of her daughter, she cannot refuse. As she emerges from the haze of her depression, her fears return. What does Heather want, and why has she returned after all this time?

A teenage Heather narrates passages that take place before the incident, while Edie recounts chapters occurring in the present. As the narrative voices alternate, the reader’s loyalty to Edie waxes and wanes. Present-day Edie has lost some of her spark; she is more reserved than her teenage self, but is kind and intelligent. Her fear of Heather is absolute and visceral, and author Camilla Way adeptly transfers this paranoia to the page and the reader. But high school-aged Heather is also a sympathetic character. Awkward and anxious, her devotion to beautiful, confident Edie is understandable. Heather’s strangeness and unpopularity are skillfully written as pathetic yet relatable.

Way proves to be an expert at setting narrative traps, providing enough information for readers to make inferences and assumptions, but stealthily holding back the key elements as long as possible. While much psychological suspense has focused on spousal relationships, Watching Edie thoughtfully explores female friendships and betrayal. A compelling voice in suspense fiction, Way keeps readers guessing throughout this smart, taut psychological thriller.

The word “shine” takes on a whole new meaning in Collecting the Dead, a debut thriller by Spencer Kope, who brings street cred as a crime analyst for a county sheriff’s office in Washington state and a former intelligence operations specialist for Naval Intelligence.

The shine in this book manifests solely to Magnus Craig, part of a special FBI tracking team concerned with missing persons. Craig has a special ability, almost a second sight, enabling him to read traces left behind at a scene by any person, whether in footsteps or handprints. Craig doesn’t need special lighting techniques to pick up a person’s shine, it’s an invisible gift—or curse—that allows him to pick up the slightest evidence unaided, each one sticking out, he says, like a “neon billboard.”

This odd but crucial ability is known to only a few people, including Craig’s partner, Jimmy, and the two have perfected their own way of working with mainstream law enforcement, adding a layer of scientific patter to their distinctly unscientific tracking abilities that would hardly be admissible in court.

In Collecting the Dead, the first in a series, Craig and his team search for a serial killer who kidnaps and kills young women, leaving behind his own special signature—a line drawing of a frowning face, with eyes, nose and down-turned mouth, left at each crime scene, unmistakably colored (for Craig) with the killer’s individual shine. The race is on to find and save some of Sad Face’s kidnap victims before it’s too late.

Craig seems to possess a formidable skill, but he obsesses about his failure to locate many of the missing in time to save their lives, and he suffers nightmares or insomnia with each person lost. He can’t help keeping albums containing photos of those he’s found, with a grimmer version cataloguing those that were never located. The team’s unspoken motto, “We save the ones we can,” seems to be the mantra that keeps them going.

The narrative is speckled with insider info about the FBI’s forensic skills and methods of operation. The author has mastered a conversational, dryly humorous tone that works well, and it usually—though not always—compensates for his tendency for over-wordiness.

Just when you think you’re home-free, though, the author leaves a new killer lurking in the wings, ready for tracking in the next installment.