A reader looking to pigeonhole Winger into a traditional genre category may be in for a surprise. It’s a laugh-out-loud funny sports story set at a boarding school, but it’s also a serious look at the many different forms of love—and a subtle meta-narrative about the process of telling a story.

Ryan Dean West is an anomaly at his preppy boarding school—he’s 14 and already a junior—when his involvement in a petty crime forces his transfer from the boys’ dorm to Opportunity Hall, a bare-bones, prison-like residence for troublesome students. Despite this inauspicious start, Ryan Dean is determined that this will be the year he reinvents himself. As he gears up for rugby season, dodges an intimidating new roommate, navigates girl trouble and develops a growing friendship with a gay teammate, Ryan Dean relates his story in a combination of bar graphs, line graphs, cartoon panels and imagined conversations with himself.

But something sinister lurks under the hilarious antics of the rugby team, and when Ryan Dean is finally confronted with a situation he can’t laugh about, he finds that nothing in his familiar box of narrative tricks is enough to describe it.

Reminiscent of Looking for Alaska, Winger packs a punch that will leave readers rethinking their assumptions about humor, friendship and the nature of storytelling—and about the broad range of emotions of which teenage boys are capable.

When 17-year-old Michael and his 5-year-old brother run away from their abusive stepfather and into the West Virginia forest on Halloween eve, they know their world is about to change. But they don’t expect the rise of the undead.

To prevent the anxiety-prone Patrick from panicking, Michael convinces his brother that their flight is all a “Game,” just like the videogames they love. A Game Master gives them new instructions each night, the rules are always clear and no cheating is allowed. But when a zealous, enigmatic military captain brings the runaways to a Safe Zone that’s anything but safe, the structure of the Game begins to deteriorate. Without the stability and sense of meaning that the Game provides, how will Michael keep Patrick from a meltdown . . . or decide who deserves his trust in a world that’s been reset to a completely new level of play?

Like Carrie Ryan in The Forest of Hands and Teeth series, T. Michael Martin rarely refers to his walking dead as “zombies.” Instead, they're “Bellows,” “Zeds” or just “the Infected.” Whatever they’re called, Martin’s monsters are just as grotesque, scary and unpredictable as the best undead creatures from classic horror movies. At times the authorial voice is inconsistent, and readers may get frustrated with Michael’s unreliability as a narrator. But the clever blending of the perpetually popular zombie apocalypse motif with the lingo of an emerging video game culture remains a winning combination, making The End Games a post-apocalyptic tale full of spooky action and twisty surprises.

Nikki Dougherty is blinded by her love for Dee. Her friends caution her that he is no good, but she just can’t see it. She is so in love with him that she simply can’t imagine him doing anything truly wrong—even when he involves her in a crime and asks her to lie to the police. She is convinced that she has a future with him, so she is willing to do anything he asks.

Dee is clearly unfaithful, violent and dangerous, but Nikki is determined to see only the good in him and remain faithful to him. She loses the trust of her own friends and family, but still she hangs onto her relationship with Dee. Even after she is arrested for being party to a murder and experiences the humiliating process of being booked, she can’t quite bring herself to face up to the truth.

In this troublesome, gritty portrayal of misplaced love, Terra Elan McVoy paints a jarringly realistic picture of a young woman who confronts very real consequences for her loyalty to the wrong young man. The images of life inside prison are particularly devastating, and Nikki’s genuine agony as she fights to come to terms with the reality surrounding the man she loves is quite tangible.

Readers will feel sympathy for and anger toward Nikki. She is so pitifully delusional that the only possible relief is for her to wake up and see her beloved Dee for what he really is. Readers won’t be disappointed, and the story along the way is absolutely riveting.

Emily Booth Masters reviews from Nashville, Tennessee.

In the near-future world of Suzanne Young's new novel, teen suicide has reached epic proportions, with one in three teenagers killing themselves before their 18th birthdays. Sloane knows this statistic as well as anyone: Her older brother Brady killed himself, and Sloane’s parents are desperate to keep their only daughter from following in his footsteps. And they’re not alone. A massive undertaking known only as “The Program” aims to save depressed kids from themselves—but at what cost? Teens who spend six weeks at The Program return to their old lives spacey and clueless, unable to remember anything or anyone who might have once triggered their depression.

Despite grieving Brady’s death, Sloane feels a measure of protection; she’s madly in love with her long-term boyfriend James, Brady’s best friend and the only person who can help her through the depths of her sadness. But when one of their friends commits suicide, both James and Sloane might be unable to escape their own time in The Program—but what will that mean for their future together?

Suzanne Young’s novel is divided into three parts, detailing Sloane's time before, during and after The Program, each of which challenges and changes readers’ expectations, simultaneously building suspense and sympathy. Readers will certainly identify parallels between Sloane’s scarily dystopian society and their own, and they’ll consider issues as wide-ranging as the nature of depression, the necessity of memory and the concept of true love.

Sloane is a flawed but thoroughly believable and sympathetic character, and readers will cheer for her through every act of resistance and moment of weakness. There are a lot of unanswered questions at the end of The Program, but that's okay—this is just the first book in a projected series that’s bound to further explore Sloane’s character and uncover the true breadth of The Program.

Laurence Roach is a 15-year-old boy with a plan: save his family, no matter what it takes. You’d think that trying to win a radio trivia contest with a grand prize of a luxury holiday might be enough, but unfortunately, things don’t quite work out the way Laurence plans.

Instead, one day his mother simply doesn’t come back from work. Saving himself and his little brother Jay from the long arms of social workers takes all of Laurence’s considerable talents. He employs everything from complex lies to investigative detection to, well, cross-dressing.

But if that’s what it takes to keep his family together, Laurence is not about to give up, even when things get really bad: “Jay’s moaning that he’s hungry. He wants some breakfast. But there isn’t any food left and we’ve run out of money again.”

Set in England and written by London author Dave Cousins (who began writing at age 10), 15 Days Without a Head manages to be gritty and heartbreakingly funny at the same time. The book examines serious issues of alcoholism, suicide, parenting, trust, honesty and responsibility, but never in a heavy-handed way. And even while Laurence is negotiating the complexities of the adult world, school and the authorities, he also makes tentative first steps in a relationship with a girl his own age named Mina.

By the end, teen readers will pull for Laurence, his mum and little Jay to win that top prize: making it as a family.

“It wasn’t just the world that had changed with the coming of the Others. We changed. I changed,” 16-year-old Cassie writes in her diary, the book that shares space in her backpack with canned sardines, bottled water and her little brother’s teddy bear. Ever since the alien invasion’s first four “Waves” wiped out most of the human race, Bear has been Cassie’s only companion—not counting her M16 rifle, of course.

Cassie’s on a mission to find her younger brother, who was stolen away along with other child residents of a supposedly safe refugee camp. But two other teens are on missions, too—missions that might help or hinder Cassie’s. Like all those who weren’t killed by power outages, floods, pestilence or roaming snipers, Cassie and her fellow survivors find themselves constantly wondering how anyone can hold onto hope in a world where human idealism is rapidly becoming the enemy’s best weapon. What shape will the upcoming 5th Wave take . . . and what new horrors will it bring?

Set on a future Earth where aliens look human, humans look alien and no one can be trusted, Printz Honor-winning author Rick Yancey’s post-apocalyptic adventure story mixes high-energy action with sharp psychological tension. Narrative sections become shorter and faster-paced as the dénouement looms, echoing the characters’ increasingly rapid choices as they navigate between individuality and conformity and between loyalty and paranoia. Fans of dystopias and suspenseful thrillers won’t want to miss this exploration of the limits of human tenacity in a world gone horribly wrong.

When 14-year-old Nawra, living in an Internally Displaced People Camp in Darfur, receives a small sum of money from an unknown donor, she assumes a rich widow with many sheep must have bestowed her wealth on her. In actuality, it’s 15-year-old K.C. Cannelli from Richmond, Virginia, after her mother signs her up for Save the Girls, a fictional yet realistic relief organization that encourages a year-long correspondence between young women from the U.S. and Sudan. In Sylvia Whitman’s The Milk of Birds, their initial hesitancy becomes a fierce connection that cannot be separated by oceans, war, poverty or different faiths.

Peppered with wise, traditional sayings, Nawra’s letters describe the destruction of her once-lively village, the murder of its men, the rape of its women and the aftermath that led her and the scant survivors to the IDP camp. A lesser author would have made K.C. a rich, selfish snob who only comes to realize her privilege in light of Nawra’s hardships. Instead, K.C. is a nuanced teen, struggling with a learning disability, fallout from her parents’ divorce and the possibility of a new boyfriend—yet she is responsive to Nawra’s dilemmas.

Nawra and K.C. worry over one another, extend advice and encourage each other’s talents—all the things good friends simply do. Inspired by Nawra, K.C. starts a school club to raise awareness for the tragedies in Africa. Together, these teens offer hope to Darfur.

Readers will feel shocked, outraged and saddened, but like K.C., they’ll ultimately be moved to learn more about Sudan’s ongoing injustices and the people they affect.

The actual solstice may be several weeks away, but Gorgeous ushers in the summer reading season with a bang. Becky Randle is living in a Missouri trailer park with her mom and working as a checkout girl when fate throws her a curveball. When her mom dies, she’s called to New York to meet international design icon Tom Kelly, who offers to make her three dresses that will turn her from average-on-a-good-day into the most beautiful woman in the world. Who wouldn’t bite?

The newly minted Rebecca Randle, who lands the cover of Vogue and a hit movie in record time, is only visible when someone else is looking at her; when they leave, she morphs back into Becky. Things are further complicated when she meets gawky but adorable Prince Gregory, heir to the British throne, and falls in love. For the relationship to work, he’ll have to find Becky behind the gloss and sparkle of Rebecca. To say “wacky hijinks ensue” would be putting it mildly.

Author Paul Rudnick brings his biting wit to this fierce, foul-mouthed and very funny fairy tale. The worlds of fashion, celebrity obsession and the royal family are skewed and skewered for big laughs—the names of Tom Kelly’s signature fragrances alone are worth the price of admission (“Intoxicated” causes a memorable girl-fight).

References to My Fair Lady are not coincidental, but the wonderfully snarky social commentary will also connect with fans of Libba Bray’s Beauty Queens. The laughter complements a big-hearted story with a clear moral: “Inner beauty wants out.” So don’t just read Gorgeous: Be gorgeous, because you are.

Eleanore has no memory of who she was before she was found wandering the streets of London in the early 1900s. Placed in an orphanage, she would have easily blended in with the other lost children if she hadn't spoken aloud the secret she carried: She hears music when there is none, sweet songs vibrating from the metal around her. Locked in a mental institution, she learns to tune out the songs, but just when she is to be released, the First World War breaks out. Eleanore is then sent to the country and given the charity spot at a prestigious all-girls school.

The Iverson School for Girls proves to be a cold, unwelcoming place, but soon Eleanore finds reasons to be happy, like the handsome groundskeeper Jesse, with whom she seems to have an instant connection. But things become complicated when her benefactor’s son, Armand, also takes an interest in her.

Jesse reveals that he knows why she hears music others don't: She’s a Drakon—but what that means, she does not know. Eleanore learns she can transform into shimmering smoke at will, but to become who she truly is meant to be, she must work toward an even more dramatic transformation.

An orphan girl with a strange secret discovers her own ancient magic.

First introduced in her adult Drakon series, Shaba Abé’s new dragon mythology creates a unique world for Eleanore to explore. The book’s greatest strength is its strong-willed protagonist who never lets herself be made to feel inferior. She owns her powers, but it’s not her powers alone that give her courage—it’s her own sense of self-worth.

The novel can drag where too much focus is given to the day-to-day drudgery that Eleanore must endure at school, but the questions that are left unanswered until almost the very end about Drakons and Eleanore's heritage keep the reader engaged. The romance between Eleanore and Jesse, as well as the tension between Eleanore and Armand, are also compelling as their feelings become parts of their destinies.

The Sweetest Dark is a novel that borrows from many genres, from historical fiction to fantasy to romance. What pulls the book together is the well-drawn characters that are easy for almost any reader to connect to.

Molly Horan has her MFA in writing for children and young adults from The New School.

At 14, Faye has learned her place in life the hard way. She is bullied by rich girls in her neighborhood, so when she finally makes friends who stick up for her, she goes along with their plans—even when that includes beating up and robbing the same girls who once picked on them. When they rob an elderly woman in her own apartment, things go horribly wrong, and Faye may be responsible for a lot more than some simple payback. It may come back to bite Faye, or it might be the wake-up call she needs to turn her life around.

When author Carolita Blythe modulates the high emotions and stark good-versus-evil tone, Revenge of a Not-So-Pretty Girl is great. Saddled with an unstable and abusive mom, a loving but absent father and friends who reinforce her isolation, Faye thinks life is simple: It simply sucks for people like her. But she has a conscience, and the friendship she forms with the woman she robbed leads to new possibilities and a shot at happiness.

It would have been great to get more insight into Faye's background (her family is from Dominica, not the Dominican Republic). Her mother prepared one meal that was drool-worthy to read about, and their Catholic faith figures heavily into Faye's evolution (she calls one of her teachers “Devil Nun”). These glimpses are some of the book's strongest material. Revenge of a Not-So-Pretty Girl works in broad strokes, but the emphasis on self-respect is worth repeating, especially to high-risk kids like Faye. Life gets better, but only when you work to make it so.

If you had three wishes, what would you wish for? What if the genie granting your wishes was a sophomore at your high school, a photographer for the yearbook . . .  and really cute?

When Margo first picks up a magic ring during rehearsal for the school musical, her thoughts are mostly of clichés: It’s Lord of the Rings meets Disney’s Aladdin, she figures. But the genie, Oliver, turns out to be something else entirely. His drab gray hoodie conceals his fantastical magical powers—including the ability to grant whoever possesses his ring the three wishes of traditional genie lore. As Margo quickly learns, though, Oliver’s magic is limited. He immediately rejects her wish for world peace (“If I had a dollar for every time I heard that one!”), forcing Margo to shift her focus to wishes that impact her everyday life in small but significant ways.

Oliver may have centuries of experience in granting wishes, but Margo only has a few days to choose hers: A rival genie is hunting Oliver, using ruthless tactics to achieve his ends, and Oliver is running out of time to elude his pursuer. But unlike the cartoon Aladdin, Margo can't use one of her wishes to set Oliver free—his magic, his ring and his history are so deeply entwined that breaking the connection between them would cost him his life.

Full of pop-culture references and teenage neologisms, Lindsay Ribar's debut novel combines a fun, peppy tone with reflections on deeper issues about the nature of love . . . and what people (and genies) will do in its name. The first in a planned trilogy, The Art of Wishing is a thoroughly modern—and thoroughly enjoyable—take on ancient legends of wish-granting genies.

After 17-year-old Lauren Woodman sees the poster for a missing local girl, she begins having visions of other 17-year-old girls who have gone missing. These girls appear to Lauren, both in dreams and in daytime, to tell their chilling stories. Some of the girls ran away only to meet unspeakable ends. Some were taken during their most vulnerable moments. Others simply vanished without a trace. But it’s Abby Sinclair, the girl who allegedly ran away from a nearby summer camp, that torments Lauren the most.

For some reason, Abby can’t tell Lauren her story. Is Abby dead like so many of the other girls? Or is she somewhere else, calling out for help and only Lauren can hear her? As Lauren investigates Abby’s disappearance, she discovers that being labeled a “runaway” means that just about everyone has given up on finding her. But Lauren’s investigation soon becomes an obsession, an obsession triggered by the long-ago disappearance of her neighbor’s daughter—a disappearance Lauren can never forget. It’s clear that Lauren is being haunted by these girls. But are these girls ghosts or something more sinister?

Nova Ren Suma, arguably one of the best YA authors writing today, has penned a chilling tale about what it means to be 17 years old and lost. Lauren is a raw protagonist. Unlike police and friends, she refuses to give up on finding what happened to these missing girls, even if it means losing a bit of herself in the process. 17 & Gone will frighten readers, not because of its haunting atmosphere, but because Suma grounds her readers in a harsh reality: Girls go missing all the time—and that’s the horror of it.

The year is 1918, and wherever 16-year-old Mary Shelley Black turns, she is confronted with people’s fears of the deadly Spanish influenza. Desperate attempts to ward off or cure the disease abound: Victims are smothered in raw onions; the uninfected wear pouches reeking of supposed medicines around their necks to prevent getting sick; and soldiers returning from WWI have been quarantined. Nothing is certain.

After her father’s arrest for opposing the war, Mary Shelley sets out from Portland to stay with her Aunt Eva in San Diego, where it seems that everyone she meets is wearing a gauze mask to try to protect themselves from this horrible disease.

In the wake of the Great War, it’s no wonder that people are turning to superstition and séances to make sense of the mystery of death. In the weeks that follow her arrival in California, Mary Shelley is confronted with a mystery only she can solve: What exactly has happened to Stephen, the young soldier she loves so deeply? Was he a victim of the battlefield, or was there another, even darker reason for his death?

Mary Shelley is a likable, sympathetic heroine, and through her story, teen readers will get a glimpse of a fascinating time period, made all the more real by the haunting historic photographs that pepper the novel, from soldiers in trenches to policemen in gauze masks. Part romance, part mystery and part ghost story, In the Shadow of Blackbirds makes palpable a terrifying time that brought the horror of death into the homes of millions.