Forty Days without Shadow, by French journalist Olivier Truc, is set in the remote Lapland of northern Norway, where reindeer are the only livelihood for indigenous Sami herders who brave the dark, Arctic winters to keep vigil over their animals, and where the old ways—even ritualized murder—can still hold sway.

Truc’s chilling debut won 15 international awards after its publication in 2012, and it is now available in English, thanks to a compelling translation by Louise Rogers Lalaurie. Translations sometimes have an awkward feel to them at the outset of a book, but as readers continue on, the unusual sentence structure develops a cadence of its own and becomes an integral part of the narrative. Lalaurie’s translation creates a chilling mood that mimics the haunting green glimmer of the Northern Lights.

Senior Sami police officer Klemet Nango and his freshman deputy, Nina Nansen, investigate two crimes: the theft of a unique Sami drum once used by the region’s shamans, whose rituals can be traced back to the area’s oldest mythology; and the brutal murder of an old reindeer herder. The detective team’s radically different backgrounds and approaches to the murder scene, in a setting full of omens and danger, make for a fascinating juxtaposition of old and new ways. Old practices clash with conservative Lutheran groups and geologists who are out to exploit the region’s vast mineral reserves for plunder and profit.

The book’s title describes a seminal moment in far northern Lapland, as 40 days without any sunlight to cast a shadow slowly give way to a magical, goose pimple-raising sequence when the community gathers to watch the sun appear once more over the horizon: “Everyone fixed their gaze on the horizon. The magnificent gleam intensified, reflecting more and more brightly. . . . Now, a bright, trembling halo of light blurred the point on the horizon at which everyone was gazing. . . . The sun had kept its word.”

A dramatic snowbound setting mixes with unexpected touches of humor to make this book one of the most riveting of the season.

In this, the 11th of Christopher Fowler’s superb Peculiar Crimes Unit mysteries, it’s clearer than ever that the real hero of the series is London herself. If you’ve never visited the city, you could ask for no better education—or pressing invitation—than the one you’ll receive by reading the entire series. Fowler not only tells delightfully lurid tales of both famous and well-hidden landmarks, but also provides clear warnings about neighborhoods you should avoid (after all, these are murder mysteries).

Bryant & May and the Bleeding Heart finds detectives Arthur Bryant and John May tackling the bizarre case of a reanimated corpse seen rising out of its grave in a forgotten corner of a Bloomsbury public garden. Both high-school punks and high financiers are implicated, along with morticians, necromancers and medical-school dropouts.

Apart from the elusive murderer(s?), the villain of the piece is the bureaucratic nightmare of the London Constabulary, personified by a barely-human being with the implausible name of Orion Banks, who . . . but no, I shall not give that away.

Bryant embodies all the peculiarity of Fowler’s narrative gifts. There is great goodness and camaraderie at the heart of the story. It’s so much bleeding fun.

This article was originally published in the December 2014 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Sometimes telling a story is all about retelling—tracing the thread of a long-ago series of events and finally getting it right. Minnesota student Joe Talbert discovers this when he is tasked with writing a senior citizen’s biography for a college English class. Short on options and time, Joe heads to Hillview Manor nursing home in search of potential subjects. There he meets Carl Iverson, a dying Vietnam vet who’s out on parole after serving a 30-year sentence for the rape and murder of 14-year-old Crystal Hagen. Joe dreads writing his story: “I had come to Hillview looking for a hero, and instead, found a villain.”

But the man whom his research reveals is far from a one-dimensional bad guy. Joe meets Carl’s army buddy, Virgil, who witnessed Carl’s acts of heroism and insists that his friend is no killer. Then Joe spots a telling detail from an old crime scene photo—one that was overlooked at the trial. He begins to suspect there’s much more to the story than the secretive old man is telling him. But if Carl didn’t murder Crystal, why did he never proclaim his innocence? What really happened to him in Vietnam? And is the real killer still walking free?

Joe turns amateur sleuth, aided by his attractive but standoffish neighbor, Lila. Then his mother is jailed for DUI, leaving him to care for his autistic brother. As his search for clues becomes more dangerous, he begins to wonder if he’ll have to choose between college and the claims of family. Allan Eskens’ compulsively suspenseful first novel reveals that guilt takes many forms—and that getting the story right is essential.

Celebrated Japanese author Keigo Higashino makes his authorial power internationally known with Malice, the latest installment in his mystery series featuring police detective Kyochiro Kaga. This well-crafted dual narrative will entice and perhaps even outwit the most seasoned mystery readers.

This time Kaga finds himself on the case of a well known novelist, Kunihiko Hidaka, who was found murdered in his study by his wife and his best friend the night before his departure to Vancouver. The victim’s former best friend happens to be Osamu Nonoguchi, Kaga’s former colleague from his time as a public school teacher prior to joining the force.

Kaga is relentless in his search for Hidaka’s murderer, but there are key evidentiary elements that don’t add up for it to be as one-and-done as a break and entry gone awry. On a hunch he targets Nonoguchi, despite his vetted alibi, but does not have hard evidence to link him to the case—yet. Kaga’s persistency and detective precision in his search to expose the truth is exhaustive, and has him digging back so far as to uproot past unpleasantries such as middle school bullying practices and to question the supposed friendship between Hidaka and Nonoguchi.

This astute read is methodically constructed and will continuously challenge and enchant readers through strategic layering and its calculated release of critical information. Malice exhibits how the smallest seed of dislike can manifest into sinister, unjustified hatred. Someone who shares a smile with you could be plotting your demise.

It’s impossible! The body of a young woman, dead only a few hours, is discovered in a pose that suggests she was trying to claw her way out of her own grave. To add an even more macabre touch, the gravesite is that of a woman who has been dead for two years.

Magic and murder make a spectacular entrance in Angel Killer, an intricate thriller with techno overtones written by illusionist Andrew Mayne. Originally self-published as a best-selling eBook, the novel now appears in a newly revised version from Bourbon Street Books. This is good news for jaded mystery fans who believe every possible character type has been imagined and brought to life. Nope! Jessica Blackwood grew up in a family of magic purveyors; her father, grandfather and great-grandfather formed a dynasty of famous illusionists, and Jessica joined the family business, making a name for herself as a clever young female magician.

For Jessica, however, there was one trick too many, and fallout from a fateful experience led her to abandon magic and her famous family for a career in law enforcement. Now an FBI agent, she puts her former skills to use when she becomes an advisor to a team studying the graveside crime, which appears to be a feat of incredible, gruesome magic. She’s called upon to think outside the box—or grave, as it were—and discover how the horrendous illusion was perpetrated. The “trick” horrifies but becomes a public sensation and a perfect prelude to more spectacular and deadly events.

The trick for Jessica and the FBI team is to ensure that the public recognizes that there is an evil, and very mortal, killer behind the “magical” and deadly crimes. Jessica’s elusive and mysterious former lover, Damian, watches her from the shadows, adding a frisson of further excitement to the scene.

Angel Killer is both addictive and at times ludicrous, as when the FBI misses clues simple enough for a child in grade school. But the whole book is one big glittery magic trick, guaranteed to ensnare readers who love a great illusion, with a lot of authentic tricks of the magic trade thrown in. This story magnifies the creepy possibilities of social media and its own very great illusions. So, “Like” fans, beware! It’s all smoke and mirrors in the virtual world, sometimes with lethal consequences.

M.P. Cooley’s first novel Ice Shear is a solid, convincing mystery set in the snowy shadows of Hopewell Falls, New York. The story follows June Lyons, a former FBI agent who traded her big badge for the life of a small-town police officer to care for her sick husband, who has since passed. In an attempt to spend more time with her daughter and to fall in better with the police force, she volunteers for the graveyard shift. Her nights pass with no more excitement than driving drunks home and buying doughnuts for the morning shift.

The dear old town of Hopewell Falls is similar to Mayberry, until one night June finds a body of a celebrated congresswoman’s daughter impaled on icy shears that web the bottom of a frozen waterfall. The damage to the body indicates the girl died before the fall, but it’s only after another bloody body connected to the victim turns up that the case escalates into the murder mystery of the century and exposes the corrupt underbelly of a town laced with meth.

This pleasurable police procedural takes a while to pick up and does a fair job of telling Lyons’ side story as the main plotline progresses. Be patient, though—it’s worth the wait, as the story’s originality keeps readers engaged. When do you ever have a perilous biker gang showdown against a congresswoman who is in line for the vice presidency? Perhaps a trained mystery reader can see through the whodunit veil, but Cooley does an excellent job of taking readers through enough twists and turns that you’ll likely be guessing until the very end.

There are several ways to know whether you’ve got a really fine novel on your hands, and you can tell pretty quickly that Dry Bones in the Valley is a debut of that caliber.

First, author Tom Bouman knows his rural Pennsylvania setting and is familiar with its smallest details, from inhabitants’ accents and manners to their dilapidated trailer homes, and from animal tracks in the woods to the winds and the night sky. Second, the plot unfolds just right, beckoning with its authenticity and maintaining a flow that stays true to the characters and the narrator’s sense of how things are. The storyline may commence with a simple atmosphere, but it conceals unspoken depths that reveal themselves without an excess of words or urging by the author. Third, the people fit snugly in their roles, and their dialogue sounds true in every way—even when their backs are turned, we sense they’re still in character.

The understated, straightforward Henry Farrell is one of only two police officers in Wild Thyme township, a rural area where folks are not shy about dressing in camo or expressing their feelings about the hazards of “too much government.” This is hunting and fishing country, and Harry, who does some hunting himself, uses metaphors of field and forest as he seeks the killer of an unknown John Doe found high on a ridge. When a colleague is murdered, the action escalates, and Harry’s strength and patience is sorely tested.

Descriptions of the rural backcountry and its residents immerse readers in a landscape that rings with authenticity, humor and also great sadness. For some, grinding poverty rubs shoulders with the anticipation of a financial windfall, as the juggernaut of corporate gas drilling and fracking moves slowly across the Pennsylvania landscape, buying rights to property after property to feed its ever-escalating need for drilling sites.

With more questions than answers, Harry maneuvers the tangled trails, underbrush and home-grown meth labs that pockmark the countryside, contending with a colorful cast of locals, including a sad, aging recluse, the drugged-out “People of the Bus,” gun-happy revenge seekers, and last but far from least, the mysterious lady of the bog.

For crime aficionados, New York Times best-selling author Marcia Muller is always a welcome name, one to rely on when you want a sure thing—a book that captures the imagination and might even make you wish you’d cancelled your evening plans so you could just go on reading. Her latest, The Night Searchers—to be exact, number 31 in her San Francisco-based Sharon McCone series—promises to be that kind of book.

Muller is quick out of the gate with a catchy plot hook: A weird couple seeks help from PI McCone’s detective agency because the wife is “seeing things.” As husband Jay rolls his eyes and pats her shoulder, wife Camilla describes witnessing devil worshippers operating from the basement hole of a city excavation, possibly conducting a human sacrifice. The canny, pragmatic McCone intuits that something more than mental instability is at work here, and sure enough, the unlikely scenario soon begins to tie into an investigation underway by RI International, the firm run by McCone’s husband, Hy, a high-level hostage negotiator. McCone and Hy discover a non-Satanic connection between Camilla’s sighting and the titular Searchers, a shadowy bunch of treasure hunters prowling the ’Frisco streets, and with the kidnapping of the director of a political policy forum.

Hy and McCone dispatch researchers and operatives from their companies to connect the dots and discover what, besides treasure, the mysterious Searchers may be hunting, and how it may tie in with kidnappings and devilish conclaves. McCone becomes the suspect in a supposed murder attempt and hides out for a while in a safe house aptly called Cockroach Haven while directing the investigation. The story sports Muller’s usual mix of eccentric characters, not least the Searchers themselves, all with fake names containing the letter “Z.”

The McCone and RI agencies seem to have the power to do almost anything, from calling up the troops to calling off the troops, and the action never stalls. But this time around, Muller’s narrative has a choppy feel to it, jumping from one thing to another and occasionally losing its focus and our attention. The couple’s too-spiffy upscale lifestyle has also become a bit wearing, and readers will miss the old days when McCone operated out of the All Souls Legal Co-op and scavenged around for her daily bread. We are amply compensated, however, by the captivating tour of San Francisco sights and sounds that’s woven throughout the book.