Anthony’s story is a slice-of-life blending nostalgia—dance competitions, Soul Train, the Holy Ghost dance at church, couples-only songs, the thrill of hearing Doug E. Fresh and Slick Rick at the club—with unflinching accounts of “living in a world full of hatred and racism.” Though mostly narrated in the third person, the narrative often slips into the first person, presumably from Marvel’s perspective. The author succeeds in capturing a vivid milieu and portraying the bonhomie and camaraderie of a large family and club scene, though many individual characters aren’t developed much, with some coming or going from the story with little introduction. The introduction of Lee David and Victor, Cebo’s brothers, seems contrived to demonstrate the importance of family. Their back stories are strikingly similar and they do not move the story forward.
The dialogue, frank and earthy, captures the nuances of the spoken word of the era, while bursts of sex and violence live up to the band’s name: raw. At times over-the-top and discursive, with storytelling that lacks narrative momentum, Club Bamboo nevertheless captures a time, place, and culture.
Takeaway: Vividly evoked story of a late 1970s R&B band, bursting with music.
Comparable Titles: Jacqueline Crooks’s Fire Rush, Rashod Ollison’s Soul Serenade.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: C
Marketing copy: A-
Cox brilliantly crafts a non-linear story, shifting third-person viewpoints between Nora and Gerda, allowing readers to gain a comprehensive understanding of the characters' inner worlds. Its appeal rises from its capacity to make readers consider the consequences of critical actions and speculate on alternative paths not taken. Cox depicts the continuous struggle of an illiterate woman caught between tragic relationships and the need for atonement in Gerda. The Fallen Woman’s Daughter also explores the enduring dynamics of sisterhood familial obligations, and the emotional ramifications of parental neglect through Nora, whose hopeful and longing letters for her mother while in Park Ridge turn into indifferent dutiful reports as she loses faith in their reunion.The novel's characterization establishes a superb, life-like web of nuanced relationships and personalities that feel remarkably authentic. There is an underlying thread of love and resilience that flows through the generations, and Cox emphasizes the importance of literacy albeit indirectly.
Although at times the transitions between decades and perspectives could be more smooth, this multi-generational narrative emphasizes how choices and attributes are often handed down across generations, demonstrating the fundamental bonds between parents and children. This feels like an urgent message to women to know and choose what they deserve.
Takeaway: Multi-generational family saga of love, tragedy, and redemption.
Comparable Titles: Lisa Wingate's Before We Were Yours, Stacey Hall's The Foundling.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Annie discovers the fascinating history behind the cabins, a key component of the series, when Hudson Fisher and his wife Constance visit Annie’s recently acquired flooring store, and Hudson reveals that his mother, Celeste Williams, a now-deceased movie star, once stayed in the nearby cabins. Braun alternates between these characters’ richly drawn perspectives, revealing, in fast-paced and surprising passages, how Annie reinvented herself following her divorce and how Sarah survived a traumatic childhood amid her mother’s episodic religious fervor and volatile relationship with Sarah’s alcoholic father.
Braun also journeys back in time to Depression-era Chicago, which Celeste leaves to go to Los Angeles, later meeting and marrying Joseph Keller, a film producer with whom she has Hudson, and later divorces when he is arrested as an alleged pro-Nazi sympathizer. The glamor of Celeste’s life as a popular Hollywood actress is imbued with realism through Braun’s inclusion of real-life actors and directors, including the famed Cecil B. DeMille. As the 1920s and 1980s collide, Noah makes a startling discovery while remodeling one of the cabins, leading Annie eager to learn more—and readers turning the pages.
Takeaway: Richly-drawn story of the secrets harbored in rustic California cabins.
Comparable Titles: Elizabeth Bromke’s House on the Harbor, Kimberly Thomas’s The Willberry Inn.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Merrill deftly uses the standard format of romance—alternating perspectives of the two mains—to reflect the difference between Kal’s inner and outer expression, allowing her to share Kal’s perspective on modern life from his place outside of normal time and his slowly returning memories of childhood trauma well before he’s ready to speak, while also leaning into the mystical strangeness he presents to the outside.
Playful tour-bus camaraderie, casual acceptance of gay relationships, and a general aesthetic of goodwill among the members of Hush, with whom Kal and Ryan end up spending most of the book, set an overall light tone that balances the trauma work that Merrill sets as the primary challenge for the characters. Secondary characters are thoughtfully developed, even for readers who have not met them in earlier volumes: music lovers will see a lot of their joy reflected here, and plot arcs around band drama, record-label rules, and creative expression create an enjoyable ensemble story separate from the romance arc. The relationship between Ryan, his dead best friend’s witchy aunts, and the carnival feels emotionally convincing compared to the rest of the characterization, but otherwise the whole novel pulls together organically.
Takeaway: Sweet gay romance with a focus on growth after trauma and a mystic, musical touch.
Comparable Titles: Cecilia Tan’s Taking the Lead, Ella Frank and Brooke Blaine’s Halo.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Readers can expect a thriller that charts over two criminal cases with big money and lives on the line as Conspiracy of Lies grapples with questions that Rachlin examines with compelling detail and persuasive authority. How can justice be best served? Who is innocent and how can they be protected? To those legal dilemmas, Rachlin adds an evergreen: How far will Dalton go to protect his family—and will his wife Elenea countenance his choice to defend drug runners? Driven through the eyes of Dalton, a character without extensive expertise in criminal law, the story offers readers the chance to see potential pitfalls that the protagonist himself does not.
The novel particularly shines in courtroom passages offering full accounts of the lawyers, judges, and juries and their complex procedural drama. Also engaging, but pained, is the romantic drama between Dalton and Elena, who is traumatized by childhood experiences with cartel violence in Colombia, and tells Dalton “Protecting the dregs of Miami isn’t why I helped you through Yale.” His constant choices to choose his career over his commitment to her give the book a raw tension.
Takeaway: Thriller about a lawyer defending drug traffickers—over his family’s wishes.
Comparable Titles: Peter O’Mahoney’s The Southern Lawyer, Robert Whitlow’s Relative Justice.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Growing up in World War II and the Greek Civil War, and crediting his “life's first horrific memory to Mussolini,” Koubourlis was raised by strict parents who did their best to keep him and his brother out of the kind of mischief that might end up in a book of short stories. Often the boys felt the sting of their father’s belt as a result of their horseplay or innocent ineptitude. Readers will feel the terror of a young boy as his first memory is the Italian bombing of his hometown in Greece, but humor is never far away. (Readers sensitive to material should take note.)
In the book’s second half, the stories build in intensity, exploring individuals’ connectedness to the world and our closest environs, with a pained yet tender story of the adult narrator, in Chile with his wife, tending to a wayward kitten, Grits. Sometimes Cruel concludes with an essay on a song heard in a dream and Koubourlis’s searching thoughts about its meaning. A YouTube link offers readers a chance to hear the melody that Koubourlis describes as “powerful but calm, as if to emphasize that everything is alright, as it should be.” This is an enigmatic book that, for readers of a contemplative bent, will linger in the mind.
Takeaway: Searching, enigmatic memory stories of growing up and living in a violent world.
Comparable Titles: Caitlin Forst’s NDA: An Autofiction Anthology, the Tome Stone’s Summer of My Greek Taverna.
Production grades
Cover: B-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A-
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Cade is reunited with his friends from his hunting days as they drink the bar away, slay evil forces (including “a treasonous bunch of racists”) and golems alike, and even manage to create an earthquake. The journey comes with trials and tribulations, plus a devastating body count, as Ward conjures intense, inventive action that moves quickly. Unknown to the others is Thomas’s pivotal battle with the most dangerous demon—an entity in his head that takes over his mind at the slightest hint of Phantom, the planet that changed Cade forever. The only way towards redemption is accepting and coming clean about the reality of what happened on Phantom.
Narrated in brisk, hard-edged first-person, the story immerses readers in its action and the complex psyche of its protagonist, complete with moments of horror. Ward's skillful storytelling is evident in his ability to craft distinctive backstories for each of his vast range of characters, while treating seriously issues of racism, PTSD, wealth, and power. With thoughtful world-building, Ward will inspire military SF readers to turn the pages frantically to get to the truth of what went down on Phantom. The gut-wrenching climax raises enough questions unanswered to whet appetites for a sequel.
Takeaway: Gripping SF monster-hunt with tantalizing mysteries.
Comparable Titles: Ross Buzzell’s Legacy Earth, J.N. Chaney and Scott Moon’s Galactic Shield.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Jackson's examination of misogyny, white privilege, rape culture, police violence, and homophobia is potent, even profound, rooted in a cast that's fully formed and convincingly drawn, in every sense of the word. The storylines feel urgent and relatable, pulsing with the anxieties of their moment: Marsalis weakly tries to defend his idol Vick to his skeptical friends against many charges of sexual assault, while Veronika's unresolved issues regarding her own assaults trigger a relapse, and Salimah has an explosive argument with both Veronika and her egotistical activist boyfriend, Brother Rage. It all comes to a climax when Vick himself visits the store with his new intern, a young woman who will no doubt be his next victim.
For all the thorny issues Jackson takes on, readers new first and foremost are invited, here, to enjoy the company of this winning cast, with the compelling story developments building naturally from their sharply observed desires, fears, and flaws. The fact that Jackson manages to make this funny, primarily through his highly expressive cartooning, ensures this stands tall as satire, trenchant social commentary, and a love letter to music and those who live for it.
Takeaway: Trenchant, funny, and wise slice-of-life comics set in a record store.
Comparable Titles: Ezra Claytan Daniels, Lawrence Lindell.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
What starts as an educational voyage quickly turns perilous when Dante’s blog about his experiences on the trip draws the wrong kind of attention, particularly when he starts looking into a secret organization known as Ibis—a shadowy group notorious for their ruthless dedication to collecting legendary antiquities. The mystery deepens when a series of hieroglyphs appear to Dante; he’s convinced the ancient Egyptian god Thoth has sent them as a key to uncover hidden truths—truths about himself and his mother’s death. Dante sets out to decipher the visions, in the process discovering the dangerous secrets of Ibis as well as a potential link to his estranged father.
The narrative intertwines Dante's soul-searching exploration of his own supernatural abilities with the enigmatic and threatening world of Ibis. As Dante is guided by his teacher through the twists and turns of their trip, he’s finally able to relinquish certain elements of his past and pursue self-acceptance. Person deftly weaves myth, memory, and archeology into the narrative, creating a compelling mystery-adventure, rife with metaphor, that serves as a poignant reminder of the enduring power of ancient wisdom and the timeless quest for self-discovery.
Takeaway: Ancient intrigue, archeology, and mysticism make this a compelling mystery-adventure.
Comparable Titles: G. Edward Marks’s Return of Bastet, Rande Goodwin’s The Witchfinder’s Serpent.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: NA
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Telling the story in sturdy couplets that invite readers to anticipate the next rhyme, Baum and Markus deftly mix real childhood problems, including being disorganized, experiencing bad moods, and being afraid to ask for help, with witchy misadventures and welcome warmth and understanding. Izzy’s spells are cute and practical. Perhaps the most enchanting passages concern kids facing their fears and Witchie giving Izzy advice but always letting her figure things out for herself, in heartwarming contrast to Lavinia’s meanness. Inbar’s expressive, character-rich artwork, including the cover, is eye catching, with each member of the cast rendered in engaging detail worth poring over.
This fast-paced chapter book includes short stories, some darker than others. Lavinia kidnapping and abusing Maxine—including starving her—is spooky in a fairy-tale way, as is Bruno’s changed behavior, which the characters don’t seem to notice other than to repeatedly call him a “bad doggy!” Maxine’s continued trauma, meanwhile, may prompt some discussions. The ending is a little abrupt but still sweet and upbeat.
Takeaway: Fun witchy tales in which friendship and kindness prevail.
Comparable Titles: Jill Murphy’s The Worst Witch, Patricia Coombs’s Dorrie the Little Witch Series.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Fitzgerald’s first novel, the start of a projected four-book starter, is powered by voice, especially Sylvia’s rococo phrasing (as narrator, her sentences gush from one incisive, surprising phrase to the next) and her friends’ relentless good humor and camaraderie. When Sylvia endeavors to strike her first superhero pose, Celia cracks “I’m getting less super and more of a girdle-model vibe, with a bad case of acid reflux.” Readers who relish the feeling of hanging out with a funny friend group, especially one with a pup, Moondogger, who might be more than he seems, will find much of this series starter a laugh-along pleasure.
That amusing verbosity and depth of character, though, comes at the cost of narrative momentum, as the kidnapping plot doesn’t really get going until over halfway through this quite long book. Before that, the possibilities of superheroics amuse the cast but don’t feel urgent, and chapter-length flashbacks into the friends’ shared history dig into mysteries that simply don’t feel as pressing as the novel’s present. The action, when it comes, is both exciting and pained, superheroics stripped of adolescent power fantasy, for the better.
Takeaway: Funny and intimate superpowered epic of a young woman, her dog, and great friends.
Comparable Titles: Cai Emmons’s Weather Woman, Gail Carriger.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
The unlikely hero of this story (and the forthcoming entries in what promises to be a trilogy) is Dunston Burnett, a retired, middle-aged, awkward bookkeeper. He also happens to be Dickens' nephew, who is summoned by the author's devoted sister in-law, Georgina, after the death of their beloved Charles. What seems to be a natural death is soon revealed to be murder and Georgina wants Dickens' name and reputation protected at all costs. Dunston is charged with identifying his uncle's killer and, almost as important, discovering the ending of Drood.
Squire conjures up an enticing lost world as Dunston, like Dickens himself, heads into high society and opium dens and back alleys. Dunston, a bit priggish at the outset, becomes a character to cheer for as he pieces together mysteries that reveal jolting truths about the very real and the very fictional men at the story’s heart. Secret lives, secret loves, and secrets that were intended to be taken to the grave are uncovered. Dunston grows in confidence at every juncture, and the stage is set for the next books.
Takeaway: Marvelous Victorian mystery centered on the death of Charles Dickens.
Comparable Titles: Heather Redmond’s A Tale of Two Murders; Lyndsay Faye.
Production grades
Cover: B-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Though de Zoysa’s faces are expressive and engaging, even when covered in sores and wounds, the illustrations tend to feel somewhat static, with only minor changes happening between pages, such as the little girl going from standing in front of the blender, to blending up her brain juice on the next page. The text is written in couplets but laid out like prose, in paragraphs, a choice that makes a first-time outloud reading aloud feel a little uncertain, especially as some of the rhymes are theoretical, like thought/start.
Still, Brain Juice is a fun and funny book that will delight anyone who loves gross and icky things. The young girl’s affinity for fruit could even prompt discussions about what young readers would want to eat with brains if they were turned into zombies, or what they’d like in their brain juice if they were a zombie. The simplicity of the narrative allows for repeat readings and the rhymes could make for a fun read aloud. A fresh take on the zombie story, Brain Juice will delight fans of the playfully grotesque … and adults trying to get their little zombies excited about fruit.
Takeaway: A humorous take on zombie lore that promotes healthy eating.
Comparable Titles: Casey Lyall’s A Spoonful of Frogs, Drew Maresco and Dallyn Maresco’s Bites, Frights, and Other Delights.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A-
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-
Again, Hayes deftly blends the magical and the post-apocalyptic as Zee traverses a fallen Earth 500 years in our future, a world where fairies themselves, here called “orcles,” labor to usher in new life. Zee’s quest will take her to wonderous caves, to encounters with inventive creatures—like the moss-covered Armilandro with “a whole ecosystem upon its back” —and even into face-to-face meetings with forces beyond our understanding. Meanwhile, something blooms in lovely scenes between Zee and Ravaryn, who finds her scars beautiful.
Zee’s quest both illuminates how everything has changed in the aftermath of her heroism in the first book, while also plunging deeper into her world’s most unexpected elements, as Hayes springs on her compelling challenges touched with the fae and the mythic. The rest of the cast, though, is engaged in catch-up missions, trying to track down Zee, though those stories all eventually twist. This polished, often gripping fantasy builds to a tantalizing promise of conflicts to come.
Takeaway: Smart, intimate post-apocalyptic fantasy where heroism comes at the cost of a curse.
Comparable Titles: L D Houghton’s Mindfire, Aiden Thomas’s Lost in the Never Woods.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Reminiscent of classic coming-of-age fantasy adventure fare but still freshened up for the era of apps, Magic, Mystery and the Multiverse offers genre-bending for all of its juxtapositioned settings—from medieval-like realms to highly advanced technologically driven worlds—human struggle, and a touch of dystopia and politics. Winter incorporates a world where oxygen is commercialized, and those in positions of power can cast a spell for forced obedience, creating societies where “It’s not safe to think a contrarian thought.” These facets serve as a socio-political commentary challenging a reflection of contemporary and perennial issues, drawing parallels to capitalism, the suppression of speech, and global protests against authoritarian regimes. Amid these, the core of the story remains tethered in a human struggle—Zack's cancer diagnosis.
Although fast-paced, the world-building is meticulous and exciting in the sense that as the story appears to be drawing near its conclusion, the intricate motivations of various characters come to the forefront, driving the narrative's momentum. Opus Die has yet to show himself, the Crimson Censor is still alive, Lord Orator comes with a bargain, and the rest of the ensemble believes Ana may be the key to fulfilling the prophecy. These intricate plot threads keep readers eagerly anticipating the forthcoming installment.
Takeaway: Inventive series starter that joy rides through an unpredictable multiverse.
Comparable Titles: Alix E. Harrow's The Ten Thousand Doors of January, Claudia Gray's A Thousand Pieces of You.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Inspired by a narrow-minded boss in real life who branded McCoy a “bland loafer”—defined as “that rare individual that ‘privilege’ has left in material, philosophical and spiritual shamble”—the novel poses incisive questions about power and culture in America, especially what it means to refuse, in McCoys words, to allow himself to be defined “as someone who others can simply extract labor from.” That’s from Mccoy’s introduction, which illuminates a novel where style submerges plot while offering powerhouse jeremiads against societal injustice and backwardness, against conventional wisdom and racial and class injustice, plus bursts of poetry, Ford’s surging inner thoughts, and debates with frustrated family members.
With subtle humor, principled outrage, polemical power, and an occasional zeal to “turn the anxiety of meaninglessness into courage,” the protagonists and his acquaintances enjoy contemplating the works of history’s greatest minds—Wittgenstein, Kant, and Niebuhr. The result is a highly intelligent, challenging, insightful exploration of history’s missteps and repercussions, and of a world seemingly set up to “crush the spirit of the Bland Loafer.” Readers of searching, discursive literary fiction will cheer as Ford stubbornly trudges after his intellectual dreams against the harsh tide of society.
Takeaway: Searing novel documenting the mind, debates, and outrage of a “bland loafer.”
Comparable Titles: Paul Beatty, Ralph Ellison.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A