Author Lori Roy’s 2011 debut novel, Bent Road, was an Edgar Award winner. In her new novel, Until She Comes Home, Roy has created a tour-de-force of mood and suspense, where old habits and new realities collide in a drama played out in a gritty and memorable urban setting.

If language can be delicate and brutal at the same time, this is what Roy achieves in a beautifully written, dark exploration of fears both real and imagined, of old ways facing upheaval. The author’s stunning word pictures convey the air and mood almost of a fairy tale or fable—strange, laden with foreboding, dark around the edges where it may initially seem clear.

Detroit in 1958, a city on the verge of cataclysmic change, contains fading factory neighborhoods filled with close-knit families of a solid ethnic white. Families struggle to cope with the impending loss of livelihoods and the first inklings of ethnic diversity. Faced with facts both inevitable and unwelcome, the women of Alder Avenue respond according to their individual private inner fears and circumstances.

Racial tensions crackle like summer lightning when a mentally challenged 22-year-old white woman disappears, seemingly at her front gate, shortly after a local African-American woman is brutally murdered. Glass shards litter the street; the wheels of a baby carriage squeal disconcertingly on the pavement. A red-handled hammer disappears. Homemade carrot cake fills the stomachs of the husbands and the time of the women as the search continues for the missing girl. Children both born and unborn figure large, and terrible events can happen, unspoken and untold, behind closed doors up and down Alder Avenue.

Roy perfectly evokes these immaculately clad and mannered women, right down to their de rigueur white gloves and appropriate hats, all in contrast to the gritty realities assaulting their well-ordered lives. During the course of the book, readers are asked to encounter, and maneuver, the often stark differences between perception and reality that course through the pages.

In this book, small descriptions are never “fill”: each adds a layer to the developing story, as events assault and then change our minds and the action unfolds in a changing kaleidoscope. Roy has contributed a challenging, thoughtful and riveting story. Seeing the marvels she can create with words, we can only hope she’ll continue to share her talent with readers.

First-time author Robert Galbraith has added a singular new voice to the genre of crime fiction with his engaging debut novel, The Cuckoo’s Calling, which keeps the form of a classic mystery while introducing Detective Cormoran B. Strike, a private investigator straight out of today with a personality as offbeat as his name.

The story gains its considerable traction through two developing characters: the enthusiastic and curious Robin, a just-engaged young lady who signs on as a temp for Strike and begins to show her investigatory mettle; and Strike himself, whose rather frayed and shambling exterior hides a steady, methodical temperament and an “incurable habit of thoroughness.” He’s got a talent for remarking the details that others have passed over.

Not too far in the past, Strike was a special investigator with the military police in Afghanistan, where he lost part of a leg to a land mine. He was also engaged to a rich, beautiful and volatile woman, but the relationship ended in a hail of temper and thrown objects. Now, Strike sleeps on a cot in his office with his prosthetic leg, a stack of unpaid bills and one remaining client.

Strike receives a burst of luck when he unexpectedly gains a new case: John Bristow, a well-to-do lawyer who can pay in advance (critical for Strike), wants proof that his sister Lula, a high-living and famous model, did not jump to her death but was pushed off the third-floor balcony of her penthouse apartment. The case was closed three months earlier and her death ruled a suicide, but Bristow’s convinced that the police have failed to follow up on all the leads, and he wants Strike to find the person responsible for Lula’s death.

This engrossing story boasts a fascinating cast of fast-track suspects both repellent and attractive. Most are Lula’s compatriots, full-of-themselves celebs and hangers-on with a knack for drugs, disaster and evasion. Front and center are Somé, Lula’s exclusive designer; Evan, a temperamental boyfriend fond of wearing a wolf mask; and Deeby Macc, a streetwise rapper with chutzpah. Then there’s the couple on the second floor of Lula’s exclusive building, one of whom claims Lula was not alone just prior to her fatal plunge. Add to this list the elusive Rochelle, a homeless woman with a connection to Lula, and the result is a page-turner featuring an uncommon hero with faces both contemporary and retro.

Editor's Note: Months after this review was assigned and published, it was revealed that "Robert Galbraith" is a pseudonym for best-selling author J.K. Rowling. More details here.

Anne Perry’s fine new book, Midnight at Marble Arch, features her well-known series duo Charlotte and Thomas Pitt in their familiar setting of Victorian England.

Readers of Perry’s engrossing novels know to expect the highest quality in both story and characterization, plus a continuation of the familiar and finely drawn characters from previous books in the series. But in this story, the unexpected and in-depth treatment of the subject of rape gives the book a timely, almost modern feel. The descriptions and language may be straight out of 1896, but the attitudes and arguments are still relevant today.

The dark debates in Anne Perry's newest Charlotte and Thomas Pitt mystery ring true even today.

Thomas Pitt, now head of Britain’s Special Branch, joins forces with Victor Narraway, his friend and the agency’s former head, to investigate several violent attacks on women. Narraway responds to the scene of a violent rape and the subsequent death of Catherine Quixwood, wife of a successful merchant banker. Likewise, Pitt and his wife are present at a society function when the daughter of the Portuguese ambassador apparently commits suicide, leaping through a window to her death. Charlotte, however, fears she was frightened into an accidental plunge after coming face-to-face with a young man who had previously raped her. Charlotte’s suspicions are strengthened after another woman privately names the same man as her rapist. The suspect is the scion of another prominent banking family of considerable means, to whom many are financially indebted. No one dares point a finger without an airtight case, and the frightened families aren’t talking.

Perry is adept at tempting us with the impossible—and perhaps inevitable—solution, as well as making us watch what we think are surefire clues go up in smoke. A discussion of attitudes toward the crime of rape is woven into the fabric of the plot, and we come to realize we’ve heard many of the same thoughts expressed in our own time. The author seamlessly connects the separate storylines and reveals multiple sides of various suspects, making us wary of convicting the most obvious.

Perry’s fans will also have the pleasure of witnessing a developing relationship between likeable series characters Narraway and Charlotte’s great-aunt Vespasia, as their growing bond, slight at first, becomes a crucial part of the story.

Although the author’s intricate prose gets a little repetitive and overwrought at times, we’re hooked on this provoking and tightly woven book to the very last page.