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Fans of both the great detective Sherlock Holmes and his older brother, Mycroft, will be more than pleased with these offerings from basketball great Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and author/screenwriter Nicholas Meyer.

Abdul-Jabbar, in his third venture with screenwriter Anna Waterhouse, presents another adventure from the Holmes brothers’ early years with Mycroft and Sherlock: The Empty Birdcage. The 19-year-old Sherlock deems his time at Downing College as “insufferable,” so he is happily distracted by the apparent randomness of a series of crimes across Great Britain dubbed the 411 killings. There are no discernible commonalities among the victims; only a note from the killer ties the crimes together. Meanwhile Mycroft, alongside his friend and confidant Cyrus Douglas, is embroiled in a quest to find the missing fiancé of the woman he loves.

As in their first adventure, Mycroft and Sherlock, the Holmes brothers spend much of this latest novel following the clues in their separate cases before coming together. Both storylines are equally fascinating as Abdul-Jabbar and Waterhouse capture the flavor of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Victorian London and his characters to a tee. Readers may yearn for the brothers Holmes to be united even sooner so their brilliant minds can spar with one another, but it’s a satisfying adventure nonetheless.

Sadly, Mycroft only plays a minor (albeit important) role in Meyer’s The Adventure of the Peculiar Protocols, but it’s enough to set Sherlock and his dutiful companion, Dr. John H. Watson, on a suspenseful cross-country race to debunk a global conspiracy. While Sherlock is still in his teens in The Empty Birdcage, the detective has just turned 50 as Meyer’s latest adventure starts.

In 1905, Mycroft encourages the intrepid duo to launch an investigation into the discovery of a manuscript (and actual historical hoax) known as The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. The papers purportedly represent the minutes of a secret council advocating nothing less than complete world domination on behalf of Jews. 

Holmes’ mission: Determine who drafted the papers and expose them as a hoax. The quest takes Holmes and Watson from Baker Street to Paris, and then to Russia aboard the fabled Orient Express. The danger and mystery intensify with each turn of the page, as unsavory characters dog their every step. Even Holmes’ beloved Stradivarius violin isn’t safe. Though Holmes ultimately manages to identify the man who falsified the papers and coerces him to confess, the mere publication of the papers will fuel the conspiracy for decades to come.

Meyer may be best known for his screenwriting and directing duties on three Star Trek films, but he is no stranger to Holmes pastiches either, as he previously “discovered” unpublished Watson manuscripts in the form of his novels The West End Horror and The Canary Trainer. Meyer’s familiarity with Doyle’s characters clearly works to his advantage, as he packs an abundance of suspense, intrigue and Holmesian flavor into this latest tale.

Fans of both the great detective Sherlock Holmes and his older brother, Mycroft, will be more than pleased with these offerings from basketball great Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and author/screenwriter Nicholas Meyer.

Abdul-Jabbar, in his third venture with screenwriter Anna Waterhouse, presents another adventure from the Holmes…

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★ Trick Mirror
Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self-Delusion
, a book of nine original essays from New Yorker writer Jia Tolentino, makes for great listening. She finds a personal angle to big topics within our modern culture, such as in “The I in the Internet” when Tolentino takes the listener through her personal history with the internet (which will be familiar to anyone who browsed the web in the 1990s and early 2000s), traces it to the modern day and reveals how it has shaped our realities. She draws connections between radical political movements and the way popular websites encourage us to turn inward. She comes to a stark conclusion about the way we allow ourselves to be used by corporations. In another essay, she reflects on her experience as a reality TV star and provides insight into the medium. Tolentino narrates the essays herself, which emphasizes her sharp wit and adds an intimacy to the more personal stories.

Never Have I Ever
In Never Have I Ever, Amy’s blissful, suburban Florida life is turned upside down when new neighbor Roux shows up at her book club and turns the discussion toward everyone’s deepest, darkest secrets. Roux earns a living through blackmail, and Amy gets tangled up in something far beyond a party game. This is a fun thriller grounded in textured relationships that include a controlling best friend and a quirky teenage stepdaughter. I kept thinking I knew where the story was going, but there were twists upon twists I truly could not see coming. Author Joshilyn Jackson does a pitch-perfect job narrating her own novel. The Alabama-born writer gets the pretend-nice, passive-aggressive, classically Southern voice just right.

Going Dutch
All the characters in James Gregor’s debut novel are horrible people, but I couldn’t help but root for them. Richard is a Ph.D. candidate struggling with writer’s block. His classmate Anne helps him by doing his work for him, buying him fancy meals and paying for taxis. In return, she expects a romantic relationship, and he is happy to oblige—despite being gay. It all comes to a head when things get serious between Richard and a former online fling. He is forced to choose between the handsome lawyer, who’s definitely husband material (even if he’s a little too into Ayn Rand), and the woman who holds the key to his academic success. Going Dutch pokes fun at online dating, New York intellectuals, money and manners. Narrator Michael David Axtell infuses Richard’s inner monologues with wry humor, making his observations even more biting.

★ Trick Mirror Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self-Delusion, a book of nine original essays from New Yorker writer Jia Tolentino, makes for great listening. She finds a personal angle to big topics within our modern culture, such as in “The I in the Internet” when Tolentino…
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★ Word to the Wise
A mystery set in a library just feels right. Jenn McKinlay’s newest Library Lover’s Mystery, Word to the Wise, lets the comfort of a familiar location set up a truly creepy premise. Library director Lindsey Norris is busy with her job and happily planning her wedding. The attention of a patron who is new in town seems odd but innocuous, but it quickly becomes clear that Aaron Grady is a stalker. The more Lindsey learns about Aaron, the more she begins to doubt her own gut; she knows something feels wrong, but is she overreacting? When his body is found on library property, the killing appears to have been set up to incriminate Sully, Lindsey’s fiancé. To clear Sully’s name, she’ll have to dig into Aaron’s past, bringing herself into the killer’s orbit. McKinlay lets the first third of the story breathe, effectively ramping up the tension. Once Aaron is out of the picture, the pace picks up as the search for the killer intensifies, and the conclusion is a wild ride indeed.

Late Checkout
Halloween in Salem is a bit like Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Chaos reigns, and the streets are a mess, but everyone has a good time. Late Checkout finds Lee Barrett losing hours at her TV news gig just as things get busy for the holiday. She volunteers at the library to pass the time and almost immediately finds a dead body in the stacks. It’s a big scoop, and with the help of her Aunt Ibby, Lee begins to research the victim. There are interesting forays into the work of running a small TV station and appearances by Lee’s charming and possibly clairvoyant cat. Author Carol J. Perry juggles these details with finesse and moves the plot toward a creepy conclusion that adds a few shivers to this cozy.

A Golden Grave
In Erin Lindsey’s A Golden Grave, Rose Gallagher should have the world on a string. She’s a Pinkerton agent working with a gorgeous partner—a far cry from her old life as a housekeeper—but that change in status has tested old friendships, and Rose still can’t pass for a society dame. A plot to assassinate New York City mayoral candidate Theodore Roosevelt keeps her hopping among ballrooms, political mixers and Nikola Tesla’s lab, where Mark Twain wisecracks while watching for the next fireball to appear. Lindsey balances history, a budding romance, a dash of paranormal activity and surprising humor. (A scene involving the as-yet-unveiled Statue of Liberty is surreal and hilarious.) In the language of its time, this is a corker. 

★ Word to the Wise
A mystery set in a library just feels right. Jenn McKinlay’s newest Library Lover’s Mystery, Word to the Wise, lets the comfort of a familiar location set up a truly creepy premise. Library director Lindsey Norris is busy with her…

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The harrowing realities of being female in a wicked world have inspired horror, gothic and speculative fiction for centuries.


In late 2018, prominent horror film producer Jason Blum came under fire on Twitter for defending his production company’s failure to hire female directors, saying it was the result of women’s disinterest in exploring horror. Women, it turns out, not only like the dark just fine, they’ve staked it out as their own. Indeed, it’s largely due to women that the horror genre developed as it has. When literature that was gothic, dramatic and shocking was thought to be trash unfit for the highbrow male, women writers and readers flooded the macabre void. Through horror, they began to write the dark side of the female experience: endangered, haunted, preyed upon.

In Monster, She Wrote: The Women Who Pioneered Horror and Speculative Fiction, scholars of the weird Lisa Kröger and Melanie R. Anderson trace the genealogy of women who’ve dealt in the unsettling, from the 17th century into the present. This book is inspired not only in the way it explores what the off-kilter, the monstrous and the half-known has meant to women for centuries but also in how it illuminates the often unusual lives of the women who crafted these dark worlds. Amelia Edwards was a swashbuckling explorer who traveled Egypt with her female partners in the Victorian era and wrote stories about mummies. Daphne du Maurier enigmatically referred to herself as a “disembodied spirit” throughout her childhood. Shirley Jackson was whispered to be a witch. As rebels within the male-dictated feminine role, were these women writing themselves as monsters? Or was it the world around them that was malformed, menacing?

Sady Doyle would answer, “Why not both?” The engrossing Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers: Monstrosity, Patriarchy, and the Fear of Female Power embarks on a fascinating exploration of the women we make into monsters in film, in literature and in life. (Behind every male serial killer is a bad mother, society would say, as Doyle rolls her eyes.) When a woman steps outside her prescribed role, Doyle argues, suddenly everyone’s a Puritan minister, signing the cross and hissing, “Witch.” What is Lucy Westenra from Dracula if not a woman who consumed as she pleased? What were the protagonists of the film The Craft but disempowered girls who finally stood up? Doyle uses these tales to examine what feminine power can mean to us now.

It’s thought that Mary Shelley wrote her Creature as a metaphor for womanhood—a trod-upon and mistreated thing that famously stated, “If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear!” upon discovering that being nice got it nowhere. Doyle might agree. In an era that seems to reflect renewed violence against women, it might be time to sweetly remind those around us that we are dangerous. Monsters, after all, have claws.

It’s largely due to women that the horror genre developed as it has.
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Celebrate all four seasons with these three new picture books that transport readers through the seasons and showcase the glories of Mother Nature.


Kim Norman’s Come Next Season captures the magic of a year spent outdoors on a journey from one summer to another. A brother and sister narrate the tale, anticipating the joys of each season—eating blueberries in the summer, filling their pockets with pecans in the fall, sledding with their dog in the winter and visiting “cheeping chicks” in the spring. The use of vivid figurative language animates their reveries, such as when they “scissor” their legs to warm up their bedsheets in winter and “roar like hungry bears” while jumping into piles of fall leaves. The well-paced text, with its gentle rhythms and perfect page turns, reveals the change of each season with a graceful and subtle fanfare. 

Daniel Miyares illustrates the children reveling in a screen-free, outdoor world. Vivid purples, yellows and reds are on display, but the bright, warm blues steal the show. The story comes full circle, opening with a visit to a lake and ending with a return visit. Both moments feature the girl leaping exuberantly into the water, but the latter visit includes a new puppy for a new year. 

A larger group of children plays outdoors through the seasons in Rebecca Grabill’s A Year With Mama Earth, illustrated by Rebecca Green. Both author and illustrator grew up in Michigan, and they base their words and art on those experiences. 

Children play and explore outside, from one autumn to the next, near a home in the woods. Toying with the notion of nature as “Mama Earth,” Grabill personifies objects in nature in evocative, lyrical language, such as pumpkin seeds that play peekaboo under fall leaves, oaks that are “stubborn,” geese that take vacations, sugar maples that sing sweet songs and rain that dances. Grabill describes Mama Earth with bustling verbs. She “tightens night’s reins,” “dresses holly shrubs in icicles,” “sings a lullaby to the fat black bear,” “bakes the ground dry as toast” and “gathers icy diamonds in her skirt.” Green’s richly colored illustrations depict a wide range of woodland creatures—from bees and squirrels to cardinals and deer. In a closing author’s note, Grabill likens Mama Earth to a “gentle, fun-loving” parent full of surprises and calls for readers to slow down and listen to nature speaking. 

Author-illustrator Eliza Wheeler’s Home in the Woods, narrated by 6-year-old Marvel, is a trip back in time to Depression-era Wisconsin. The book follows Marvel and her seven siblings from summer to spring as their family looks for a home after the death of their father. With each passing season, they are able to make the most out of having little. They create a home out of a shack in the woods, make a garden out of a “blanket of rotting leaves,” pitch in to do chores, fill their cellar with their garden harvests, hunt for food during the winter months and, working as a team, manage to thrive. 

Wheeler often singles out objects in the children’s lives in her lush, detailed spreads. Her language is rich—there are “crystal rains,” berries that are “sweet jewels of blue and red” and “ruby leaves”—and she uses repetition to great effect. An author’s note reveals that the story is based on her grandmother’s experiences. It’s a story, she writes, about finding “inventive ways to work together.” 

Celebrate all four seasons with these three new picture books that transport readers through the seasons and showcase the glories of Mother Nature.


Kim Norman’s Come Next Season captures the magic of a year spent outdoors on a journey from one summer to another.…

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Some say that girls just want to have fun, but fun backed by a hefty bank account is on a whole other level. Whether you’re a historical romance reader or prefer something a bit more contemporary, these two heroines are determined to take control of their lives—and with the privilege of wealth, the sky’s the limit.


Laura Lee Guhrke returns to her Dear Lady Truelove series with an heiress ready to find a husband and the stuffy guardian determined to reign in her reckless behavior in Heiress Gone Wild.

Jonathan Deverill made a vow to a dying friend that he’d become the guardian to his daughter, Marjorie. When he goes to collect the young woman from school in New York, he is shocked to find an adult and not some pink-cheeked runt of a girl. Eager to spend her inheritance and to make up for all the lost time spent secluded at a finishing school, Marjorie McGann hopes Jonathan will steer her away from any suspected fortune hunters but still give her a proper London season.

The couple butts heads quite often, as Marjorie’s carefree and oftentimes wild behavior scandalizes the buttoned-up Brit. Marjorie uses her flighty personality to mask her grief at having lost her father. She had hoped for a touching reunion, but loneliness quickly sets in. Her father is gone and the only thing she has to show for it is money. No memories. No adventures. She wants to rectify that and readers will be eager to see her succeed in finding happiness. Jonathan is tougher to like, given his closed off and at times snooty attitude. But romance fans who love stories with brazen heroines urging their heroes to let loose will find a winner in Guhrke’s setup.

After a frothy and bubbly start, Heiress Gone Wild quickly deepens into a tender tale of reclaiming lives half-lived.

In a more contemporary tale of escapism, Love on Lexington Avenue follows a young widow in uptown New York City as she clashes with a rugged contractor.

Claire Hayes is struggling to cope with the death of her husband, mainly because she just discovered he was a serial cheater and that certainly doesn’t mix well with grief. Now she’s ready to clean house and gut her Upper East Side brownstone in an effort to redefine herself following a tragedy and betrayal all in one. Unfortunately, contractor Scott Turner has the impression that Claire is nothing but a spoiled socialite who married for money.

Everyone knows that home renovations never go smoothly and as the complications pile up, so does Claire and Scott’s chemistry. These opposites definitely attract and in an attempt to the cool the building tension, they agree to a temporary, no-strings-attached affair. (That never works out well in romance.) Inevitably feelings get involved and the gruff, blue-collar, flannel-wearing contractor isn’t satisfied with having Claire in just the bedroom.

The emphasis on female friendship is a lovely bonus in Love on Lexington Avenue and the entire Central Park Pact series. It’s a great example of women supporting women through ups and downs and feels very reminiscent of “Sex and the City,” if that’s your jam. Author Lauren Layne is a master at sexy banter and funny dialogue. Add in some girl power and a man who knows his way around his power tools, and this one is a real winner.

Some say that girls just want to have fun, but fun backed by a hefty bank account is on a whole other level.

Very different in tone but equally compelling, these two ghost stories will haunt readers long after the last page.


In Thirteen Doorways, Wolves Behind Them All, Printz Medal-winner Laura Ruby weaves a heart-wrenching story about loss and familial bonds as two girls, an orphan and a ghost, struggle to make their way during the early 1940s.

Pearl, who narrates, died in 1918 and haunts the Chicago orphanage where Frankie is abandoned by her father, a poor shoemaker. Pearl watches as Frankie endures both harsh treatment by the nuns and the heartbreak of her father’s remarriage and subsequent move to Colorado without her. Frankie must also weather the loss of her first love, who enlists in the Army at the height of war. 

Over time, Pearl meets other spirits and begins to unburden herself of the secrets that keep her locked in the mortal realm. She discovers that her afterlife doesn’t have to be spent wandering Chicago’s streets, trapped in an endless loop.

Thirteen Doorways, Wolves Behind Them All calls to mind A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, another story that explores the struggles, heartache and joy of those who grew up without privilege in the early 20th century. Pearl is a tragic heroine, a product of the social expectations placed on a beautiful young woman in the late 1910s, and Frankie comes of age amid the uncertainty and instability of World War II—yet both refuse to succumb to hopelessness. A beautiful and lyrical read that pushes against the boundaries of what we often think a young adult novel can contain, Thirteen Doorways, Wolves Behind Them All is sure to garner Ruby even more acclaim.

The ghosts in Rules for Vanishing are tragic entities with malevolent intentions. A year ago, Sara Donoghue’s sister Becca traipsed into the Massachusetts woods, never to be seen again. Only Sara knows where she went—in search of a ghostly road that emerges on the anniversary of the disappearance of Lucy Gallow, who vanished in 1953 and whose ghost now calls out to travelers for rescue. Now Sara must try to find Becca. To do so, she enlists the help of some old friends and ensures that everyone knows the rules of the road: Everyone must search in pairs. Everyone must bring a lock to open a gate. And everyone must stay on the road. But breaking the rules, even unintentionally, is easier than it seems, and the consequences for doing so are gruesome. To reveal anything more than that would spoil the reading experience.

Kate Alice Marshall interweaves video footage transcripts, interviews, emails and text messages, documentary-style, into Sara’s first-person narration. The effect not only heightens suspense but stretches the confines of the story and causes readers to question Sara’s version of events. What is real, and what has been distorted? Marshall doesn’t shy away from violence or gore, and readers will feel like they are watching a horror film unfold on the page. Shudder-inducing and unusual, The Rules for Vanishing checks all the boxes for a pulse-thumping read.

Heartwarming or hair-raising, Thirteen Doorways, Wolves Behind Them All and Rules for Vanishing will keep readers up all night.

Very different in tone but equally compelling, these two ghost stories will haunt readers long after the last page.


In Thirteen Doorways, Wolves Behind Them All, Printz Medal-winner Laura Ruby weaves a heart-wrenching story about loss and familial bonds as two girls, an…

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Folktales may be the bedrock of contemporary horror, but they have seeped into the mainstream. From sparkling vegetarian vampires and werewolves playing basketball to witches and wizards parking their broomsticks in the house on the cul-de-sac, yesterday’s bogeymen are today’s brooding protagonists, even in television shows about vampire slayers. Given this reality, any novelist dealing with the paranormal must confront the new comprehensibility of the monsters under the bed. Are they forces of nature beyond mortal ken? Or are they humankind’s kindred spirits, in the most literal sense possible? T. Kingfisher (Ursula Vernon’s nom de plume) and Vivian Shaw take radically different approaches to answering this question, but both are blessed with an irrepressible sense of humor that makes their books equal parts scary and funny.

In The Twisted Ones, Kingfisher depicts a kind of magical elsewhere filled with strange compulsions and warped conjurations that enchant and ensnare humans led astray. It is a skeptic’s telling of a scary story, in which an editor called Mouse, while cleaning out her late, estranged grandmother’s house in rural North Carolina, is unwittingly drawn into the world of the tall, pale folk who once stalked her step-grandfather. Mouse discovers his journal in the assorted rubbish, and the fact that the terrors he describes within start to happen to her does not prevent her from approaching the text with the eagle eyes and determined skepticism of an editor. Mouse’s narrative is gripping in its uncertainty and her refusal to believe what she sees, but also genuine in her morbid fascination with her unexpectedly paranormal milieu and her unwavering love for her dog. Kingfisher imbues a classic “things-that-go-bump-in-the-night” monster story with hints of modern context without dwelling on the issues that context raises, simply because it is irrelevant to the story she wants to tell. The result is tense, well-crafted Southern horror with a meta twist.

Shaw’s Grave Importance, on the other hand, is the conclusion of an epic trilogy about a doctor to the undead who, with the aid of several vampires, a witch with prehensile (and somewhat fidgety) hair and an old family friend who happens to be a high-ranking bureaucrat in Hell with a gift for mathematics, manages to save her world from an untimely apocalypse. Greta Helsing, scion of the Helsing family of former vampire hunters and current vampire doctors, is called to fill in when the lead physician at a mummy health spa leaves to spend several months on an urgent case in Cairo. Apparently the mummies are having fainting spells and nobody quite knows why. Meanwhile, the fabric of space-time is ripping, and the demons tasked with keeping an eye on it are very concerned. Shaw’s writing is more Pratchett than Lovecraft: There are different species of vampire with different dietary restrictions, mummies make a living as programmers and Dr. Faust runs the finest medical institution in Hell, with cutting-edge imaging technology that can diagnose even the most complex of curses. It is, in short, less horrifying than hilarious, and delightfully so.

What these books share, however, is an interest with how the supernatural is portrayed. Kingfisher has great fun with the tropes of found-manuscript horror stories, while Shaw recasts Dracula’s kin as misunderstood outcasts. Both writers humanize their monsters and rationalize the actions of their human protagonists. Mouse walks into danger out of filial responsibility, then curiosity and finally for the unbreakable bond between a woman and her dog, while Greta is simply following the Hippocratic Oath as applied to the undead. The Twisted Ones and Grave Importance are radically different in tone and scale, but they are equally enjoyable modern folk takes.

Folktales may be the bedrock of contemporary horror, but they have seeped into the mainstream. From sparkling vegetarian vampires and werewolves playing basketball to witches and wizards parking their broomsticks in the house on the cul-de-sac, yesterday’s bogeymen are today’s brooding protagonists, even in television…

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Everyday pleasures like spending time with family or watching a favorite TV show are things we often take for granted. Reminding readers to count their blessings, two new adventured-filled titles feature brave heroines who struggle to survive despite government oppression.

J. Kasper Kramer’s impressive debut novel, The Story That Cannot Be Told, begins, appropriately enough, with the words “Once upon a time . . . ” The tale opens in 1989 in Communist Romania. Ten-year-old Ileana lives in Bucharest with her parents. Their life is somewhat bleak—they have access to one TV channel for two hours each week (it broadcasts Communist Party sessions), and their apartment has been bugged by the authorities—yet they’re a loving and tight-knit trio.

Ileana has inherited a passion for writing from her father, a literature professor, and they share a unique bond. “He could hear what was inside a story’s heart—what made it beat or let it die—and he’d shared that gift with me,” she says. Ileana makes up her own narratives in her special book, which she calls “Great Tome”—an assemblage of construction paper and spiral-notebook sheets with a glitter-encrusted cover.

That book, her prized possession, becomes an outlet for escaping the grim reality that her uncle Andrei, a subversive poet recently arrested by the secret police, may be dead. When her parents realize that they, too, could be in danger, they send Ileana to live in a remote village with grandparents she doesn’t know. As her love for newfound family members and their little town develops, Ileana finds her courage tested in ways she never imagined.

Kramer mixes elements of fairy tale, folklore and factual history into an irresistible adventure. It’s a novel readers will love getting lost in, a moving tribute to the power of shared stories and the value of cultivating an independent spirit.

Similar themes can be found in R.J. Palacio’s White Bird, one of fall 2019’s most anticipated titles for young readers and an important act of storytelling. In this beautifully executed graphic novel, Palacio revisits Julian, whom many readers will recognize from the beloved bestseller Wonder, along with his French grandmother, Sara.

Julian, who is writing an essay about Sara for school, contacts her (via FaceTime), and she relates her extraordinary experiences as a young Jewish girl in World War II France. In a narrative enlivened by plot twists, betrayal and a cast of remarkable characters, Sara recalls how German troops came to her school to arrest her and the other Jewish students. After she hid from the soldiers, she was rescued by a boy named Julien, whose family allowed Sara to live in secret in their barn. Because of their compassion and generosity, Sara survived. Hers is an unforgettable account of wartime years lived in fear, but it also highlights the importance of kindness, which she describes as “a light in the darkness” and “the very essence of our humanity.”

Filled with striking thematic juxtapositions—between history and modernity, nature and civilization, freedom and oppression—White Bird succeeds, in part, because of the author’s marvelous artwork. Palacio renders human figures with straightforward clarity, placing them against backdrops that range from sharply detailed to subtly impressionistic, and her panels lend the narrative a what-happens-next urgency that keeps the reader invested.

Resurfacing in the present day, the story comes full circle in the end, as Julian makes a poignant promise to Sara. This ultimately affirming entry in Palacio’s Wonder chronicles is destined to become a classic of its kind.

Everyday pleasures like spending time with family or watching a favorite TV show are things we often take for granted. Reminding readers to count their blessings, two new adventured-filled titles feature brave heroines who struggle to survive despite government oppression.

J. Kasper Kramer’s impressive debut…

For readers in the mood for murder and mayhem with a light touch come two laugh-out-loud mysteries from Lynne Truss and Susan Isaacs.

In the first entry of Truss’ mystery series, 2018’s A Shot in the Dark, the year was 1957, and 22-year-old Constable Twitten, an upper-crust know-it-all whose father was a famous criminal psychologist, had just joined the Brighton police force. His arrival came not a moment too soon, as his boss, Inspector Steine, and senior officer Sergeant Brunswick had (through their sheer blundering obliviousness) nurtured a thriving community of thieves, murderers and con men in Brighton. The majority of these lawbreakers report to the police station’s charlady, Mrs. Groynes, who leads a double life as the mastermind of Brighton’s seething criminal element—but only Twitten knows the truth about their Cockney compatriot.

When The Man That Got Away begins, Twitten is reading Noblesse Oblige by Nancy Mitford, a real book that addressed vocabulary differences between English social classes, albeit in a somewhat satirical way. The bestseller becomes a running motif of the novel: “It’s been quite controversial,” Twitten tells Inspector Steine, who has clearly not personally caught a whiff of the controversy. “And I’m sure the whole field of socio-linguistics has practical applications for policework, you see, but people keep getting annoyed when I talk about it, so I should probably bally well belt up about it, sir.”

When a bright young civil servant, Peter Dupont, has his throat slit in broad daylight, Constable Twitten launches an investigation, despite Inspector Steine’s boneheaded insistence that Peter died by suicide. Mrs. Groynes claims she can help—but can straight arrow Twitten bring himself to partner with a cold-blooded criminal, no matter how nice her cakes and cuppas are?

Truss expertly mines this slapstick absurdity for maximum amusement. When a couple of “Brighton Belles” encounter a strange old man on the pier trying to pass himself off as nobility-in-exile and trying to fence gold bricks for 25 pounds apiece, “the two women exchanged glances. They’d been warned about con men, but they’d somehow imagined that a con man would be a little bit harder to spot.” At one point, Mrs. Groynes absent-mindedly reveals a familiarity with the criminal underworld no charlady should have, and “Twitten watched as the ghost of a question crossed Brunswick’s face, but (as usual) didn’t settle.”

The Man That Got Away is a dark, screwball crime novel in the vein of the 1955 British film The Ladykillers that will also appeal to fans of Truss’ runaway bestselling grammar guide, Eats, Shoots & Leaves—as well as Anglophiles in general. Chock full of clues, criss-crossing subplots and wry dialogue, Truss’ latest is a pleasure from start to finish.

The inimitable Susan Isaacs, master of sardonically witty observation and genre-bending suspense, is back with Takes One to Know One, her first standalone novel since 2012. Thirty-five-year-old FBI agent Corie Geller has traded in her badge for the chi-chi enclave of Shorehaven, Long Island: “When I married Joshua Geller and adopted Eliza a year later, I had such a bubbly version of suburban life. Ah, normality! I pictured a racially and ethnically diverse group of friends holding Starbucks cups, dressed like a Ralph Lauren ad, each demanding to know if I thought Naguib Mahfouz deserved to win the Nobel Prize.”

Josh and Eliza provide the cozy stability that Corie has always craved, and life as an agent was never really part of her plan anyway. After 9/11, Corie ended up being using her degree in Arabic to follow her dad into law enforcement in the counterterrorism division of the FBI. But when Corie becomes a mom and moves to the ’burbs, leaving the bureau for a job “on the outskirts of publishing”—reading Arabic-language novels and evaluating them for potential translation—feels like a natural end point for her first career. “There was nothing more I thought I wanted than what Josh offered,” Corie observes. She’s happy enough to let new acquaintances assume she has always worked in publishing rather than voluntarily share details of her former career.

But Corie realizes she misses her life as a special agent when her past beckons from the strangest of places—her weekly lunch meet-up of freelancers, none of whom know the truth about Corie’s professional past. Pete Delaney, a freelance packaging designer, captures her attention by sitting in the same spot at lunch every week and keeping a watchful eye on the parking lot. Yet aside from this quirk, “truly, the only intriguing aspect of Pete—a guy so careful, so predictable—was that he was so nothing. His friendly neighbor shtick felt like an add-on, as if he recognized that he, too, needed some gear to tote around.” The FBI academy trained Corie not to ignore her gut—and her gut ends up leading her into a possibly hair-brained investigation that ensnares her retired cop dad, her college best friend and her former lover—but leaves her husband completely in the dark.

With shades of Agatha Christie and “Law & Order,” blended with the high drama of a conventional suspense thriller and a generous portion of Isaacs’ signature wry and brainy observational humor, Takes One to Know One will be catnip to longtime Isaacs fans and new readers alike.

For readers in the mood for murder and mayhem with a light touch come two laugh-out-loud mysteries from Lynne Truss and Susan Isaacs.

In the first entry of Truss’ mystery series, 2018’s A Shot in the Dark, the year was 1957, and 22-year-old Constable Twitten,…

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The fall holiday season is a time for gathering with loved ones and for sharing foods we wait for all year long. But how often do we consider the inherited significance behind our festive tables? How often do we truly give thanks for the food before us? Two new picture books, Fry Bread: A Native American Family Story and Apple Cake: A Gratitude, reveal how food—and the act of creating and sharing it—can mean much more than a contented stomach.

In Kevin Noble Maillard’s Fry Bread, a family gathers to prepare a traditional Native American fry bread meal. For each step—mixing, frying and waiting—the bread represents an important aspect of their heritage. They may be making fry bread, but what they are truly creating is family, tradition and abiding pride in both.

Deftly illustrated by Juana Martinez-Neal, every page of Fry Bread is imbued with Native American history and culture. Echoes of ancient cave art, symbolic tattoos, handmade baskets and ceremonial designs tell a story of tradition. Family names (written by the illustrator’s children) and an image of the author’s aunt (who taught him to make fry bread) give Fry Bread an incredibly personal, cherished feel. Soft and subdued, Fry Bread is warm, inviting and uplifting.

Although Fry Bread’s narrative stands on its own, its message continues in a comprehensive author’s note. Over several pages, Maillard details the origins of fry bread as well as the complicated and often overlooked history of Native Americans in the United States. Maillard, who is an enrolled citizen of the Seminole Nation, also raises current issues, including health and medical care, racial diversity within today’s Native communities and the continuing struggle for recognition. With a list of additional references and resources, Fry Bread’s backmatter serves as an accessible resource tucked inside a children’s picture book. Rich with smells and sounds, Fry Bread radiates with Native American pride, the sharing of traditions and the love of family.

Unpretentious and charming, Dawn Casey’s Apple Cake follows a little girl in bright yellow boots as she and her energetic pup greet farm animals and tromp through fields to gather the ingredients to make apple cake. At each step, the girl acknowledges all the living things and elements that will come together to make her meal, including trees, bees, cows and rain. Once she finally makes her way home, she (and a few new friends) helps turn the apples, honey and milk into a treat.

Told with an easy rhyme scheme and friendly language, Apple Cake speaks to even the youngest readers. Reminiscent of a lullaby or prayer, Apple Cake offers assurance in its comforting rhythms and the heartening words of thanks. Genevieve Godbout’s illustrations have old-fashioned sensibility. Muted, pastel colors and gentle lines give movement to the land, while colored-pencil strokes create a world that is delicate in texture, almost enchanted. The animals are calm and familiar, and the simple, bold faces of characters are amiable and timeless.

The finishing touch for a book that will genuinely bring people together is a recipe for apple cake, which sagely includes advice for cooking with children. Just as Apple Cake’s story concludes with a picnic, reading this book may result in a trip to an apple orchard and homey smells from your own oven.

The fall holiday season is a time for gathering with loved ones and for sharing foods we wait for all year long. But how often do we consider the inherited significance behind our festive tables? How often do we truly give thanks for the food before us?
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★ Garden to Glass
Mike Wolf’s Garden to Glass, which explores the intersection of gardening, foraging and beverage design, offers instant appeal. Wolf, who worked with chef Sean Brock at Husk in Nashville, is a curious and passionate guide, taking readers into his garden and onto trails where he gathers ingredients for bitters, cordials, shrubs and more. These are featured in recipes that will enhance any bar program or make you one hell of a home mixologist. Beautiful watercolor illustrations and interviews with specialists give this study of botanical cocktails a dimension not achieved in other guides.

Pity the Reader
Pity the Reader
, a hefty, essential new volume of Kurt Vonnegut’s writing advice and life stories, is certainly a book first and foremost for writers, with chapters on plot, character, talent and diligence. But it’s also a gold mine for any Vonnegut fan or creative seeker. Suzanne McConnell, our trusty guide through the book and a student and friend of the late author, exhaustively plumbs Vonnegut’s archives, revealing choice bits from interviews, letters, drafts and published novels. It’s fascinating to observe Vonnegut’s revisions (and rejections) and fascinating, too, to learn how the nitty-gritty of his life shaped his works. And it’s a joy to see how McConnell interacts with the ideas and words of her mentor, weaving and contrasting them with insight from her own multidecade teaching career. 

A Place at the Table
Now more than ever, America must celebrate the countless contributions of its foreign-born population. A Place at the Table, a project from the Vilcek Foundation, which recognizes the work of immigrants in the arts, sciences and humanities, takes up this cause in stunning fashion. The editors gather profiles of 40 of the best foreign-born chefs working in cities across the U.S. today and share recipes from each. The result is a trip around the world through cuisine, from Thai Dang’s grilled salmon and snow fungus salad with Vietnamese herbs, to Erik Bruner-Yang’s takoyaki hush puppies, to Maneet Chauhan’s naanzanella. Simply scanning the ingredient lists and gazing upon the photographs of each dish feels like a journey, something of a foodie fever dream. 

★ Garden to Glass
Mike Wolf’s Garden to Glass, which explores the intersection of gardening, foraging and beverage design, offers instant appeal. Wolf, who worked with chef Sean Brock at Husk in Nashville, is a curious and passionate guide, taking readers into his garden and…

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★ Angel in a Devil’s Arms
Scandal and passion go hand in hand in Julie Anne Long’s historical romance Angel in a Devil’s Arms. Angelique Breedlove believes she’s escaped her past and her bad luck with men. Then Lucien Durand, the bastard son of a duke, walks into her boarding house. After being presumed dead for a decade, Lucien has revenge on his mind, but the lovely Angelique just might distract him from his goal. Their attraction could lead to trouble, so the pair strive for a friendship that perhaps brings them closer than if they’d become lovers. Yet their every encounter shimmers with sensuality. Readers will sigh as Angelique and Lucien share their emotional wounds, and well-drawn supporting characters serve as an amusing counterpoint to the poignant central narrative. Filled with deep longing, this story is a stellar example of the genre.

The Devil in the Saddle
A Texas princess falls for a contemporary cowboy in The Devil in the Saddle by Julia London. When her wedding is canceled due to her cheating fiancé, Hallie Prince finds a friendly face in her childhood friend, ex-Army Ranger Rafe Fontana. Rafe has been in love with Hallie forever but assumed he never had a chance with the town’s golden girl. What follows is a slow-­building friends-to-lovers romance, the tension provided by two cautious hearts. London’s characters are good people with grown-up problems, and readers will root for them to take a chance on each other. This is an emotionally mature modern-day romance with a touch of Texas sparkle.

This Earl of Mine
A book that begins with a Regency heiress seeking a bridegroom in Newgate Prison promises daring adventure, and Kate Bateman gives readers just what they’re looking for in This Earl of Mine. Georgiana Caversteed seeks to secure her inheritance by marrying a man sentenced to death. However, Benedict Wylde, coerced by his jailers to marry the beauty, is actually an aristocratic Bow Street agent in disguise. Later, upon meeting at a London society gathering, Benedict’s identity is revealed—and sparks fly. The fast-paced plot still finds room for sensual romance to blossom, and charismatic, roguish secondary characters abound. This Earl of Mine is pure fun.

 

★ Angel in a Devil’s Arms
Scandal and passion go hand in hand in Julie Anne Long’s historical romance Angel in a Devil’s Arms. Angelique Breedlove believes she’s escaped her past and her bad luck with men. Then Lucien Durand, the bastard son of a…

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