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Pour a warm beverage and settle in with Paraic O’Donnell’s exceptional third novel, The Naming of the Birds, a thrilling gothic mystery set in Victorian London. The opening section takes readers to a dreary scene in 1872 that reads like a particularly Grimm fairy tale: A group of orphans survives a horrific fire at a place known as the Asylum, only to be secretly carted away to another horrifying institution, where they are given new names, called after birds. One of the children, a girl now called Nightingale, carries secrets from that fire, which “taught her things about the world’s secret nature and her own.” Nightingale has one friend there, a boy now called Finch, who tells her, “I talk to you because you’re the only one who might be able to make sense of it all.” 

After that chilling introduction, the action fast-forwards 22 years to 1894, where Scotland Yard Inspector Henry Cutter and his young partner, Sergeant Gideon Bliss, find themselves pursuing a skilled serial killer who seems to be targeting aging civil servants, some of them of high rank. Their murders have been achieved with assassin-esque meticulousness, and the victims are left in haunting, precisely arranged scenes that include the bones of children. 

Fans of O’Donnell’s previous book, The House on Vesper Sands, will welcome the return of Cutter and Bliss, along with their sidekick, Octavia Hillington, a vibrant, fearless and piercing journalist who helps them track down the killer. They form a particularly dynamic trio: Cutter is a crusty, grumpy, but determined detective; Bliss is sensitive and fearful, but equally dogged; Hillington is an undaunted Victorian change-maker. 

O’Donnell writes and plots with admirable precision, leading readers down a series of intriguing labyrinths to discover what exactly happened to those children back in 1872, and how that incident may be connected to these present-day murders. He is a master of big strokes and small, inserting touches of humor and insight without lessening the tension. He uses the bird theme judiciously throughout: They appear from time to time like eerie witnesses to the unfolding action. And there is a lot of big, glorious action as Cutter, Bliss and Hillington risk their lives to uncover these frightful truths. As Cutter tells his sidekicks, “We are going to see more than mere trickery. We are going to see the performance of a lifetime.” In the end, readers are left with all that and more, including weighty questions to ponder about the nature of justice and revenge.

The Naming of the Birds is a delicious, breathtaking romp that will have readers looking over their shoulders as they quickly turn its pages.

Paraic O’Donnell inserts touches of humor and insight without lessening the tension in his breathtaking gothic historical mystery, The Naming of the Birds.

Who owns the wind? Should people use their own property as they see fit, even if it has an impact on their neighbors? Drawing on transcripts from court proceedings, county commission meetings and public inquiries, as well as a wealth of interviews, Wall Street Journal reporter Amy Gamerman explores these questions and others in her riveting The Crazies: The Cattleman, the Wind Prospector, and a War Out West.

In Big Timber, Montana, population 1,673, winds howl down from the Crazy Mountains, 30-odd jagged peaks that surround the valley in which generations of ranchers have eked out a living raising cattle or sheep. With views of the Yellowstone River, the land is marked by a rugged beauty. In recent years, wealthy, politically connected figures have built private retreats in the area. Most often, these folks are neighbors, as was the case of Rick Jarrett, a fifth-generation rancher on the land, and billionaire Robert Gordy, who “collected land the way other rich men collect art.” In 2015, Jarrett was struggling to pay his debts and secure the ranch for his family’s future generations. For Jarrett, as for any rancher, financial security was elusive because profits from the annual sale of cattle had to be turned back into maintaining the ranch, often with little left over.

When wind prospector Marty Wilde came along, offering to put up wind turbines on Jarrett’s ranch, the rancher jumped at the chance to profit off this natural commodity: the winds screaming down the Crazies. Wilde’s Crazy Mountain Wind company would also provide electricity to Big Timber, and have environmental and economic benefits for the whole town. Billionaire Gordy immediately objected to the plan: Windmills, he claimed, would be an eyesore, marring the beauty of vistas he enjoyed from his property. The Crazies tracks this sprawling modern-day David and Goliath epic through lawsuits and appeals and public hearings for over two years.

Gamerman’s captivating account of the struggle over private property, conservation, renewable energy and greed in a small corner of Montana is a gripping parable for our times.

Who owns the wind? A fifth-generation rancher and billionaire go to court over the matter in Amy Gamerman’s captivating The Crazies.

Jonas Olofsson, professor and director of the Sensory Cognitive Interaction Lab at Stockholm University, is a passionate olfactory advocate who believes “the sense of smell, often unnoticed, influences so many of the most important parts of our lives.” In The Forgotten Sense: The New Science of Smell—and the Extraordinary Power of the Nose, he offers a fascinating overview of this understudied, underappreciated sense and makes a convincing case for bringing our noses to the forefront of research, culture and everyday life.

Conventional wisdom indicates animals are superior sniffers, but at the 2015 Association for Chemoreception Sciences annual meeting, “the old myth was blown out of the water,” Olofsson writes. “Humans were more sensitive than other animals to the vast majority of odor molecules.” Certainly, “Dogs are the olfactory kings of the animal kingdom,” but “we humans actually perform so well in the smell tests that we can even give dogs a run for their money.”

The author also explores culturally prominent scents like Sweden’s “polarizing” sour herring and durian, “the stinking fruit, or as it is called in Southeast Asia, the king of fruits.” He looks at aroma-centric professions (chef, sommelier, perfumer) and pulls back the curtain on scent marketing. Ever enjoyed florals in a hotel or followed your nose to a Cinnabon? Oloffson adroitly explains the corporate strategies that rely on an aroma’s ability to trigger memories and emotions and influence our choices.

In a section on health, he notes that, as for 2022, the COVID-19 pandemic “might have left 20 million people with a permanently impaired sense of smell” and discusses the physical and psychological effects of anosmia, from loss of appetite to a “strong sense of loneliness when you can no longer share the olfactory worlds of others.”

All the more reason, then, to consider his recommendation for brain-boosting “smell training” that could improve quality of life for professional sniffers and regular folks alike. After all, Oloffson writes, “Every smell is an intersection between our thoughts and our emotions.” The Forgotten Sense is an excellent, enthusiastic guide through “the little-known depths of scent and how it shapes us.”

The Forgotten Sense is a passionate, enthusiastic guide to learning how the understudied, underappreciated sense of smell shapes us.

Jayne Ann Krentz closes out her Lost Night Files trilogy with the nail-biting Shattering Dawn. The series follows three women, all of whom woke up strapped to gurneys at a hotel in the middle of an earthquake and a fire—with no memory of how they got there, and with new paranormal abilities to boot. Surviving that horrific event forged an unbreakable bond between Pallas Llewellyn (Sleep No More), Talia March (The Night Island) and Amelia Rivers, and they created a cold case podcast, Lost Night Files, to discover what happened on that fateful night. Shattering Dawn follows Amelia, a photographer with psychic abilities, an eye for detail and a healthy sense of survival.

Amelia has struggled with paranoia and phobias ever since that night at the hotel, but unfortunately for her, the shadowy figure lurking around her apartment is not a figment of her imagination—it’s a dangerous stalker. So she hires private investigator Gideon Sweetwater to help catch him. Gideon is reluctant to help Amelia at first, as he thinks she’s just paranoid. But after her stalker tries to kidnap her, it’s clear her fears are rooted in reality. The only safe thing to do is to go on the run, which is especially hard for Amelia, for whom trust is so difficult. However, she quickly learns that Gideon has his own psychic gifts, abilities that are the yin to Amelia’s yang, and powerful when combined with her own.

Krentz, who has published more than 120 books since her debut in 1979, is an old-school storyteller with a quick, intelligent mind and a talent for building a wicked sense of tension and suspense. She’s an incredible world builder, to the point where the reader truly feels as if they’re in the story, parsing through the data and fighting the bad guys with dedicated intensity. Krentz’s main characters have equitable strength and vulnerability, and while the plot is lighter on romance, Gideon and Amelia’s love is shown in the way he stands by her side—even when he would prefer she stay out of danger—and the way she helps him work through his own trauma. If you’re a fan of romantic suspense, treat yourself to Shattering Dawn, an expert offering by one of the best authors in the business.

If you’re a fan of romantic suspense, treat yourself to Shattering Dawn, an expert offering by one of the best authors in the business.

Matty Matheson doesn’t have to tell you that Matty Matheson: Soups, Salads, Sandwiches isn’t your typical cookbook. You’ll know just by looking at it. The charismatic chef, restaurateur and actor (he consistently steals scenes as Neil Fak in the FX series The Bear) is dressed down in a worn-to-the-point-of-translucency Grateful Dead T-shirt on the book’s cover, tattoos scattered across every bit of skin up to his slicked-back yet still rumpled hair. The simple bowl of tomato soup in front of him looks practically conformist by comparison, and shows that the unfussy nature of his cooking is a byproduct of authentically good taste, not pretension. Matheson seems incapable of faking it, and his audience loves him for it. This isn’t his first cookbook—in fact, it’s his third—but by limiting recipes to three of the most user-friendly, indispensable meals, this one might become his most popular. The section on soups includes more ways to make the dish than I knew existed, including a fish stew called cioppino and a Scottish soup called Cullen skink. (“This soup should make you feel good, like you’re the one last remaining Highlander,” writes Matheson. “You’ve cut everyone’s head off, and you can finally just live your life.”) There are various chowders, phos and vichyssoises, but it’s simple stuff like Matheson’s corn maple Parmesan soup, which is made in a blender with frozen corn, that really highlights his enthusiasm for no-frills tasty food.

Matty Matheson’s new cookbook highlights the chef’s (and The Bear actor’s) unfussy nature and enthusiasm for no-frills tasty food.
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A wondrous nighttime adventure unfolds for a nature-loving family in Safe Crossing. As the narrator, a young girl, explains, “The wood frogs, spring peepers, salamanders—spotted, blue-spotted, and Jefferson—and other amphibians are crossing the road tonight.” She, her parents and sister head out as part of the local Amphibian Migration Team to facilitate safe road crossings as the amphibians make their annual journey from the woods to vernal pools to lay eggs. As she did so well in How to Say Hello to a Worm, author-illustrator Kari Percival awakens children’s curiosity while spurring them to action.

Percival’s illustrations, bathed in dark purple and brown that contrast with the bright yellow raincoats and safety vests these citizen scientists wear, evoke the excitement of the rainy night. Readers will practically feel the spring rain on their shoulders as the team shines flashlights in search of amphibians that need help. A host of different species emerge, each labeled as they hop and crawl across the road to the vernal pools. End papers complement these field guide-like identifications with further information and prompt readers to go back and try to spot different types of eggs with the help of detailed clues.

The narrator recognizes that the amphibians struggle to cross a busy road, and “need their own safe crossing. Their own bridge or their own tunnel.” With admirable efficiency and a gift for presenting information in easily understandable ways, Percival shows how this family and others in the community turn this idea into a reality. Data is collected, plans are drawn, a grant is applied for and the narrator nervously states her case at a town hearing. “My belly feels like it’s full of jumping frogs,” she says. Before long, a variety of town groups help raise needed funds, shedding more light on the effectiveness of community involvement. Finally, the completed tunnels under the roadway allow the amphibians to safely lay their eggs. Several pages of backmatter round out the text, including fun facts, a glossary, safety tips and suggestions for citizen scientist involvement.

Safe Crossing is an exciting, informative call to action for budding scientists and environmental activists.

Author-illustrator Kari Percival’s Safe Crossing is an exciting, informative call to action for budding scientists and environmental activists.
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A plump mother duck sleeps soundly in her nest, with seven little eggs snuggled under her breast. But as she sleeps, there’s a crack, crack, peep! And seven little ducklings rustle out of sleep.

But what’s this? Later, the mother collects her seven ducklings and counts eight! The imposter (a turtle) is welcomed into the family—and so are the other little ducks who join the duckling line. Two more past eight, then two more past 10 add up to a delightful dozen.

Thus begins Seven Little Ducklings, the latest little treat from Annette LeBlanc Cate, and it has all the hallmarks of a satisfying storytime read-aloud. Children can count the ducks (plus turtle) on each page to keep track of how many have joined the family, and will need to pay close attention to the illustrations to catch when newbies join the pack. On the final spread, the mother has a surprise 13 ducklings resting in her nest, in a manner reminiscent of Sandra Boynton’s Hippos Go Berserk, where the number of hippos keeps growing past the expected 10.

The rhyme of this picture book flows well, and the prose includes chances for children to complete rhyming sentences, mimic noises or practice simple counting and addition. The sweet and lovely illustrations lend themselves to the adventurous nature of the story by encouraging children to look for the ducks, look for the imposters and compare and contrast which of the ducks are not like the others.

Seven Little Ducklings is sure to go down as a quacking classic.

The flowing prose of Seven Little Ducklings includes chances for children to complete rhyming sentences, mimic noises or practice simple counting and addition.

Natalia Shaloshvili’s Pavlo Gets the Grumps is the sweetly funny story of an eventful day in the life of a grumpy kitten and the loved ones who attempt to jolly him out of his bad mood. Will their efforts be successful?

First, while she and cranky little Pavlo eat their breakfast, Mama suggests a trip to the park. But a downcast Pavlo says no: “The swings are too swingy, the sandbox is too sandy, and . . . the slide is too SLIDEY!”

Well, that’s hard to argue with, so Mama moves on: How about swimming? “You love making big splashes!” But even as Pablo envisions himself and Mama floating alongside a friendly frog, he demurs, noting, “The water is too wet and . . . the fishies will nibble my toes!” 

When even a trip to the movies doesn’t appeal (that’ll involve sitting, and Pavlo’s “bottom is very wriggly today!”), Mama decides they’re off to the playground. “The best thing to do with the grumps,” she explains with fake-it-’til-you-make-it gusto, “is to go out anyway.”

And thank goodness they do, because not only does Pavlo’s friend Mila greet him with a sympathetic hug, she convinces him to join her and Mama on the slide, which this time is cause for giggling, not grouchiness. Even better, they have ice cream without anyone saying the ice cream is too ice creamy! Happiness is achieved, grumpiness dissipated, and day salvaged in a charming, amusing story that any reader who’s ever been cranky will relate to—especially if they’ve ever dramatically laid tummy-down on the couch while feeling irritable in a way they can’t quite explain.

Shaloshvili’s outstanding art, done in acrylics and watercolor pencil, is rife with appealing texture, spot-on body language and humorous details galore (especially endearing: a book-reading, bicycle-riding mouse). Her visual humor is finely tuned and dovetails nicely with her comforting, uplifting message to readers who get the grumps: It’s okay to feel grouchy sometimes, but don’t forget about the restorative power of play, hugs, friends and joy—not to mention ice cream.

Natalia Shaloshvili’s finely tuned visual humor in Pavlo Gets the Grumps dovetails nicely with her comforting, uplifting message to any reader who’s ever been a bit cranky (aka all of us).
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Reclaiming the Black Body: Nourishing the Home Within explores how eating disorders, or eating imbalances, as author Alishia McCullough aptly calls them, flourish under white, Western capitalist power structures, and have a unique impact on Black and brown women. McCullough investigates the origins of our negative relationships with food and our bodies, and shares the tools we can employ to reach healing transformation.

McCullough, a licensed clinical mental health therapist and founder of Black and Embodied Counseling and Consulting, is profoundly engaging and empathetic. “Embodiment,” the core principle of McCullough’s counseling philosophy, means self-acceptance that stems from connecting the physical, mental and spiritual aspects of ourselves. She offers new language for clinical terms, writing, “It is not that our eating is disordered, it’s that our relationship to our bodies and how we have come to nourish ourselves has become fragmented and created imbalance within us.” She’s specifically concerned with how historical forces have caused this fragmentation. For example, body-hatred as experienced by Black people can be traced to chattel slavery, lack of land ownership and food scarcity; one way to process this is through somatic therapy, which McCullough defines as “a body-centered approach that examines the mind-body connection.”

This book serves as a much-needed foil to the misinformation and stigma against fat people, especially Black and Indigenous women in larger bodies. Along with sharing her own experiences in these areas, McCullough covers subjects like patriarchal indoctrination, body-shaming, fatphobia and Black beauty standards. As much as Reclaiming the Black Body is a historical and sociocultural study, it’s also a deeply insightful guide for people of color struggling with body image, self-worth and confusion around what is healthy. It takes sharp aim at diet culture, self-imposed eating restrictions and so-called “health journeys” popular in Western society. In guided practice segments at the end of each chapter, McCullough turns to the reader and asks questions to help them reflect on how food and body insecurity have played a role in their lives.

McCullough specifically addresses Black women throughout: “You are dealing with a normal adaptive response to surviving in a system that was invented to deem your existence as something that should not have survived past the plantation,” she insists, adding, “I repeat: It is not your fault.” Innovative and groundbreaking, Reclaiming the Black Body asks us to consider the ways in which we are disconnected from ourselves and why. Embodiment is a lifelong revolutionary act that requires support and self-compassion. McCullough assures us that it’s worth it, and there is hope and healing ahead.

Alishia McCullough’s groundbreaking Reclaiming the Black Body takes a sharp aim at diet culture, providing a much-needed foil to the misinformation and stigma about fat people and a deeply insightful guide for women of color struggling with body image.
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Princess Rhea Silvia has had everything wrenched from her grasp. She has borne the loss of her mother and brothers, and seen her father stripped of his throne. Now forced into the life of a Vestal Virgin by her power-hungry uncle, Rhea has been divested of whatever power she once possessed. But she has a secret that will change the world forever—if she can live long enough for it to bear fruit. The night before she is to be commended to the virgins, Rhea takes Mars, the god of war, to her bed, violating her vows and consummating an affair that will birth one of the most powerful empires the world has ever known. Rhea’s story is one of gods and blood, of sacrifice and vengeance. Hers is the story of the birth of Rome. 

Why Lauren J.A. Bear reoriented the story of Romulus and Remus around their mother.

In Mother of Rome, author Lauren J.A. Bear reinterprets the strange and tragic backstory of the twin founders of Rome, Romulus and Remus, into a story of intrigue, determination and the raw ferocity of a mother’s love. Like most myths, Rhea’s intrigues even when stripped down to its most basic parts. But Mother of Rome gathers strength from emotional specificity: namely, Bear’s refusal to shy away from the uglier parts of a mythological retelling and her devotion to showing the emotional truth of the women she portrays. Rhea seeks vengeance in a world where men acknowledge her only when exerting control over her destiny and body, and her rage and frustration spring from the page—but so too does her unbridled joy at seeing her children for the first time. Similarly, her cousin Antho’s sense of helplessness at being tied to men who disgust and terrify her may loom large, but so too does her hope for her forbidden love. Because in Bear’s hands, women’s stories—and women’s rages, hopes and fears—matter. Cathartic and moving, Mother of Rome reimagines the founding myth of Rome in a way that transcends gods and empires, instead focusing on the humanity at the story’s core.

Cathartic and moving, Mother of Rome reimagines the myth of Romulus and Remus by placing their mother, Princess Rhea Silvia, center stage.
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Drag queens take center stage in Holly Stars’ Murder in the Dressing Room, a fun and fierce cozy mystery.

Joe is a hotel accountant who dreams of something bigger—and they find it as Misty Divine, an up-and-comer in the London drag scene. Misty’s a regular performer at Lady’s Bar, a drag haven owned and operated by the legendary Lady Lady. But when Misty discovers Lady Lady’s lifeless body in her dressing room, she and the other drag queens and kings who perform at the venue become suspects in the murder. To clear her name and find justice for Lady Lady, Misty decides to investigate the crime. She uncovers shocking secrets about Lady Lady, her bar and her fellow drag performers—and someone is willing to kill again to stop Misty from getting to the truth.

Stars’ humor shines in Murder in the Dressing Room, a funny, engaging mystery that makes full use of the dramatic world of drag. A drag queen herself, Stars does an exceptional job of showcasing the highs and lows experienced by members of the community: Joe is empowered by their drag persona and has found a strong support system and devoted boyfriend, but they also experience misgendering and discrimination by strangers and local law enforcement. Throughout the novel, Joe transforms into Misty and de-drags several times. Some situations, like those with their employer, call for Joe to respond; others require Misty’s brashness and wardrobe. Stars does a wonderful job showing how a drag performer can live their most authentic life by embracing all aspects of their identity.

The central mystery is more than it seems, involving a cat burglary, bribery, intimidation and a stolen dress once worn by Judy Garland. Fans of fierce looks and found family will devour this book.

Fans of fierce looks and found family will devour Murder in the Dressing Room, a funny and engaging cozy mystery set in the world of drag.

If you read only one photo book in your lifetime, let it be Magnum America: The United States. An epic collection of images from the prestigious photography cooperative Magnum Photos, Magnum America combines more than 600 captivating images from its collection into 472 pages, and each of them is a hit. The weighty tome is organized by decades, and flipping through any given section is like watching history pass before your eyes. The 1940s includes iconic portraits of figures like Albert Einstein and Salvador Dali, important photojournalism like W. Eugene Smith’s shot of President Truman holding up a newspaper emblazoned with the headline “Dewey Defeats Truman,” and a one-two punch of powerful works by Henri Cartier-Bresson: a threesome of young people on a Coney Island beach followed by a hanging dummy advertising used cars in Jackson, Mississippi. It’s the juxtaposition of the images that gives the book its most powerful resonance. Disturbing war photography is followed by documents of family get-togethers and athletes in moments of victory. Special sections devoted to particularly noteworthy collections, like Susan Meiselas’ 1970s Carnival Strippers portraits and Jim Goldberg’s mid-’90s study of runaway teens, Raised by Wolves, provide crash courses in essential works. There are also sections dedicated to multiple photographers working on the same subject, like the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s and the 9/11 attacks. There is no better introduction to American postwar history than the photographs included in this book. What’s more is that there may be no better introduction to the history of photography, either.

 

Flipping through any given section of the exceptional photography tome Magnum America is like watching history pass before your eyes.
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Make a Pretty Sound: A Story of Ella Jenkins describes a pioneer whose 70-year career introduced children to Black music and music from all over the world, earning her a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 2004 and the nickname “the First Lady of Children’s Music.”

Thanks to Traci N. Todd’s rhythmic prose and Eleanor Davis’ powerful illustrations, this picture book biography is beautifully grounded in the lively sights and sounds that inspired Jenkins. Jenkins grew up in the Bronzeville neighborhood of Chicago, amid “the blare and bleat of taxicabs, the screech of high-up trains, the tambourines that ring as preachers preach and choirs sing—amid the pool hall-gritty beat of the city.” Todd shows how Jenkins listened to music from all over the world at record shops, and loved seeing Cab Calloway perform. Each spread is filled with lively city scenes, people and music—a church choir, a boy in a window playing a flute, Jenkins’ uncle’s harmonica serenade, or Cab Calloway, dressed in a bright yellow suit, belting out, “Hi-de-hi-de-hi-de-hi!” Davis uses a palette of textured bronzelike browns and reds along with a yellowish green and teal, giving the illustrations an old-fashioned feel that deftly imparts the grand span of Jenkins’ life: She celebrated her 100th birthday in 2024.

As an adult, Jenkins moved to San Francisco and became a teacher before returning to Chicago, where she fought for civil rights. She appeared at the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s 1964 rally at Soldier’s Field, to perform “for the children, for the hope she feels when she hears their voices, for all that music can teach them about themselves and about each other.”

While the book’s text immerses young readers in the variety of personalities and sounds that defined Jenkins’ musical life, these details are more explicitly spelled out in an accompanying timeline, lengthy afterword and bibliography. As a result, the book can be enjoyed by a wide range of readers, from preschoolers to older elementary students, who can choose how much detail to absorb. Make a Pretty Sound highlights the life of a musical pioneer whose message continues to be vibrant and vital.

Make a Pretty Sound highlights the life of musical pioneer Ella Jenkins, whose message continues to be vibrant and vital.

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