When little Afia can’t sleep, her mind as active as a summer night, she and her papa travel in their imaginations to find love. And find it they do—in the sun-warmed sand, on a snowy mountain top, in the ocean’s friendly waves and even in the darkest night sky. Before she finally drifts off to sleep, Afia and her father discover that love looks like many things across the world; but most of all, it looks like them. What Love Looks Like, written by Laura Obuobi and illustrated by Anna Cunha, is a captivating addition to the bedtime bookshelf.

Against the safe coziness of a cream-colored background, Cunha’s characters are sweet and softly drawn, as well as a little messy and hazy, like a dream. Her oil painting style and warm colors enchant from the start, but as Afia and Papa journey on, Cunha’s art blossoms into magical worlds that feel wondrous and grand while remaining calm and welcoming. Cunha manages to make her art feel both old and contemporary—which means it will never be dated or stale.

Cunha’s artwork is so captivating, it hardly needs accompanying narration, but it’s perfectly balanced by author Laura Obuobi’s beautiful, well-chosen descriptions told with a storyteller’s sensibility. Obuobi’s writing begs to be read aloud and savored, and she peppers her narration with alliteration and a rhythm that pulls one gently forward. Her poetic descriptions are impeccable and lovely, conjuring new settings in seconds. All of these things make What Love Looks Like a perfect last book before bed: Readers may find themselves relaxing and feeling sleepy as they read. 

While there is no lack of picture books to help with bedtime procrastination, What Love Looks Like deserves a spotlight. Not many offerings are so well-matched in their text and art. Indeed, Cunha and Obuobi deliver the embodiment of What Love Looks Like: beautiful things to look at, gentle words before bedtime and someone dear to share them with.

A lone green apple on a tree full of vibrant reds is the only one left behind after picking season begins in Linda Liu’s stylish Sour Apple. 

The dejected little apple sits alone in the orchard and wonders what failings could have caused the rejection. It utters laments in clever rhyming couplets that are at once plaintive and amusing, rife as they are with allusions to popular apple-centric figures and sayings that will appeal to kids and adults alike. “Am I too ordinary to make or break your day? / Or not extraordinary enough to keep the doctor away?” the distraught fruit muses as it imagines plopping on Sir Isaac Newton’s head, being offered by the Evil Queen to the Seven Dwarfs, and uncomfortably wending its way through the human digestive system. Vivid watercolor-and-digital paintings add to the fun thanks to striking geometric shapes, finely rendered patterns and texture, and Liu’s knack for clever composition and expressive humor.

Sadly, the apple’s distress sinks it so low that it frustratedly offers itself to ravenous insects, who carry it off into underground darkness. But what if that’s not the end for the apple? What if there’s something waiting just around the corner that’s even more amazing than getting picked? Is it possible there’s joy to be found in not being like everyapple else?

As in her sparkling debut, Hidden Gem, Liu has created a charming and emotional protagonist to whom readers of all ages will relate: After all, recognizing and appreciating our own unique potential is an ongoing process. It’s a delight to follow along as this apple’s outlook changes from sour to sweet, eventually undergoing an astonishing transformation that celebrates the wonder of a new perspective and a hopeful future.

Meet King Lion, who rules all the happy animals and smiling people below his balcony. He should be the happiest of all in this happy city, but instead has a very big problem: Hidden away in his tall castle, he is an awfully fearsome creature without a friend in the world. 

Not one to let his own kingdom get the better of him, King Lion sets out into his city to find himself a friend. But when he shouts “Hello!” all anyone hears is a “deafening roar.” When he waves his paws to greet a pal or opens his mouth for a large smile, all anyone sees are his “dangerous claws” and “dripping jaws.” 

But one little girl isn’t so sure. Like the king, she is also lonely. Could they . . . be friends? 

King Lion, written and illustrated by Emma Yarlett, promises to be an immediate hit with librarians, teachers and young readers everywhere. The prose lends itself well to a group read-aloud, giving plenty of opportunities to roar and expose those fearsome claws and jaws. This picture book would also provide a more intimate bedtime reading experience, giving children a chance to talk about why the King might be lonely, why people are afraid of him and how it might sometimes feel to come on a bit too strong when we are excited to meet new friends. The illustrations are lively, colorful and provide many Easter eggs throughout the story that compel the reader to stop and pore over the background, smelling the proverbial flowers and questioning the looks on the townspeoples’ faces: Are they happy? Alarmed? Scared? Sad? Loving? 

King Lion is a heartwarming story for the awfully fearsome and misunderstood creatures everywhere.

A group of cheerful walruses, friendly birds and an inquisitive cat are living their best lives on an island where everyone says “YES!” It’s a happy existence: The walruses play sand volleyball (aka “Walrus Ball”), wear stylish hats and enjoy delicious treats from Café Donutto. Sure, only saying yes “was not so great when someone asked you to wear an itchy shirt or get a haircut,” but overall, the island’s culture of mutual agreement is working well for everyone.

Then, the Kid shows up. He breezily refuses to consider others’ requests, responding with a shocking “NO.” He even cuts the donut shop line and leaves with a bunch of pastries he didn’t pay for. The proprietor said yes, so what’s the problem?

Well, it’s a big problem for the walruses. They can’t play Walrus Ball because the Kid’s boat is sitting in their net. There are no more donuts to eat (he won’t share, of course). And it hurts when he bounces on the narrator walrus’s back and yanks their whiskers. Alas, things get even worse when more Kids arrive and gleefully wreak havoc on the once peaceful island.

Things can’t go on this way, so the walruses decide to teach each other how to say no. It’s a struggle at first: “I tried to say the new word,” the narrating walrus shares. “But my tries came out see-through like glass, light as dandelion puffs. They blew away in the wind.” But it’s the only way to protect their home. Will their new approach work?

The Island Before No is a super fun read, a visual treat and an excellent conversation starter all in one. Hudson Christie’s art perfectly complements Christina Uss’ engaging and uplifting tale, thanks to its appealing claymation-esque style, skillfully employed pastel colors and energy that bursts from every page. The walruses’ efforts to establish and enforce boundaries will resonate with readers of all ages, from their initial hesitance to their realization that practice makes close to perfect—especially if there are donuts involved. The Island Before No is a quirky gem of a tale that’s sure to elicit giggles even as it inspires confidence.