There's this moment about a third of the way into Neal Stephenson's gargantuan new novel, REAMDE--we've been following Zula Forthrast, who's been kidnapped by Russian mobsters along with the boyfriend she'd just dumped because she found out he sold them a batch of stolen credit card numbers. The problem is, when Peter handed over the computer files with the credit card numbers, he accidentally infected the bagman's computer with a virus (named REAMDE, a deliberate misspelling of the common README file name). Once Zula and Peter figured out that the hackers who created the virus are in the city of Xiamen, the Russians smuggled them into China and forced them to help pinpoint the hackers' exact location. The confrontation is just about to take place, when Stephenson suddenly punches the literary equivalent of the nitro button, and this already engrossing technothriller is escalated into an even more amazing action extravaganza, with a jaw-dropping effect on the reader.

But wait: that recap left out all the equally fascinating plot threads about T'Rain, the massively multiplayer online role playing game founded by Zula's uncle Richard. T'Rain has a thriving economy based on trading virtual gold for real cash that the hackers are hoping to exploit, and it's also undergoing a massive cultural upheaval rooted in a dispute between the two bestselling fantasy authors Richard and his company retained to create the MMPORG's backstory. Granted, this sounds a bit confusing when you try to boil it down to 200 words, but Stephenson doesn't have any of those constraints. He can, and does, go into extreme detail about everything from technical processes to the intricate choreography of a gunfight. It's not just about showing readers that Stephenson knows his stuff, but about a genuine effort to make sure that they get it, too, and can thus better appreciate its awesomeness.

Stephenson handles all these storylines with a narrative structure that resembles a Quentin Tarantino film, with every backtrack or digression serving a precise, clarifying purpose. The comparison is also apt given how many of the novel's characters seem to recognize that, by accident or choice, their lives have become an action movie, and how quickly they embrace its patterns (along with its dialogue). Although Stephenson does eventually ease off the throttle after the major plot twist hinted at above, by then he's already built up enough momentum to keep readers engaged for another 700 pages. Bracket out a long weekend for yourself; once you get started on REAMDE, you'll want to see it all the way through. --Ron Hogan, founder of Beatrice.com

Max Cámara normally takes his annual vacation during Valencia's Fallas festival, to escape the weeks of drunkenness, music and explosions. Unfortunately for Cámara, this year he was not only unable to take time off, but he also has to officiate at a bullfight. Unlike the adoring crowds around him, Cámara does not appreciate getting to watch Jorge Blanco, the most celebrated matador in Spain.

Later that night, Cámara ends up back at the bull ring, but this time instead of a dead bull, he sees the mutilated body of a dead Blanco. As the case unfolds, Cámara is forced to delve into the secretive bullfighting culture, a world he has always despised. There are no obvious suspects: Blanco's grieving fiancée, his rival matadors, his rumored lover and the bull-breeding family that raised him all seem to be genuinely mourning the loss of the popular celebrity. Then, there's a second brutal murder and the pressure from City Hall to solve the case increases. As Cámara grapples with its intricacies, he is also forced to confront a startling revelation from his girlfriend and the displeasure of his boss. Will the noise of Fallas drive the introspective Cámara over the edge or will he be able to solve the case before someone else dies? --Jessica Howard, bookseller, Bookmans Entertainment Exchange

John Moon is a likable, "good-looking guy... gentle and with a good sense of humor" whose late father owned, and lost to the bank, a large farm. John managed to buy enough of it back to house his trailer, in full view of his lost inheritance. This is not all John has lost: his beloved wife, Moira, has taken their son and left him to forge her own future, training as a teacher. John--for all his good qualities--is perhaps not the sharpest knife in the block, but he does manage to eke out a living pouring tarmac and hunting for his meat. A Single Shot chronicles one week in John's life, starting with tracking a 12-point buck in the woods near his cabin. He hears a twig snap, sees a flash of brown-and-white behind a bush, fires a shot--and then sees the buck leaping away in another direction. He has killed a teenage girl.

The reader is led from one harrowing choice John makes to the next, as predetermined, John realizes, as a row of falling dominoes--and as impossible to stop. In geometry, the most crucial part of a drawing is the initial line; any error here, even the smallest, and the end result is a hideous deformity of the original shape. This is what happens with John's life. A Single Shot is a welcome reissue, with Reading Club notes, of the original 1996 edition by Matthew F. Jones (Deepwater). The author's skillful plotting and writing, reminiscent of Hemingway, make the book impossible to put down; it's a classic in modern suspense writing. --Judith Hawkins-Tillirson, proprietress, Wyrdhoard books, and blogger at Still Working for Books

When Prospero Lost came out in 2009, L. Jagi Lamplighter's modern version of the characters from Shakespeare's The Tempest seemed to draw inspiration from Neil Gaiman, especially the Sandman comic book. It wasn't just that Prospero's daughter Miranda--now the head of a multinational corporation that keeps supernatural powers in check so they don't wreak havoc upon the earth--had a full contingent of equally immortal siblings, each with their own magical weapon. A more profound similarity lay in Lamplighter's efforts to create a totalizing worldview, one in which all mythologies and folklores are equally valid and capable of commingling.

Lamplighter built that premise up slowly in the first book and its sequel, Prospero in Hell, as Miranda struggled to reunite her estranged siblings after discovering that her father was being held captive by demons. Their rescue mission was disrupted on the very last pages of that second novel, and Prospero Regained picks up the story almost exactly where it left off, as the family slowly reassembles itself once more and then heads to the tower where their father is being held captive.

Prospero Regained also pushes the trilogy's theology in a new direction. From the beginning, Miranda has maintained that her devotion to the unicorn goddess Eurynome is not incompatible with her professed Protestant faith. During this final novel's long treks across Hell, there is much occasion for religious debate and Lamplighter eventually puts forward a scenario that strives to reconcile pagan pantheons with Christian views on salvation.

Unfortunately, this isn't a story you can jump into mid-stream, although Lamplighter recaps as much of the previous two novels as she can without dragging everything to a complete halt. To appreciate fully the magnitude of Miranda's dramatic transformation over the course of Prospero Regained, readers need the earlier books--but for contemporary fantasy fans who enjoy a healthy dose of the epic, that won't be much of a burden. --Ron Hogan

In Red Velvet and Absinthe, editor Mitzi Szereto has collected a mixed bag of "paranormal erotic romance." Many of the 15 short stories predictably feature the standard werewolf and vampire fare that has been so popular lately, and these are perfectly serviceable pieces, sure to please fans of the genre. The collection as a whole is eerie and atmospheric, but mixed in with the standard paranormal are tales so wonderfully strange and imaginative that they defy categorization. They are evocative and provocative and a whole host of other adjectives, all of them good.

Among the standouts are "Painted" by Anna Meadows and "Dolly" by Charlotte Stein. In the first, a young man becomes obsessed with an oil painting depicting a striking and sensual woman. His fantasies grow more and more vivid until art and life merge. Stein's "Dolly" tells the story of a young woman who crafts (literally, out of wax and straw) the perfect man and makes a mysterious discovery about her own existence.

Because these are all short stories, the details and characters tend to be vague, but that only adds to the feeling that we are dealing here with universal desires. Characters are confronted with, or create, their wildest dreams, and often they are just exactly good enough to be true. A word of warning though: when they say erotic, they mean it. These are not for the faint of heart. --Judie Evans, librarian

In the weeks following the attacks of 9/11, Kate Brooks, a 23-year-old photographer living in Moscow with her boyfriend, got a four-day assignment from People and took off for the Middle East armed with just a small backpack, her camera, a film scanner and $800. Thus began a 10-year odyssey that resulted in the publication of her first photography collection, In the Light of Darkness.

The collection juxtaposes the stark and harrowing aftermath of the battlefield against the haunting beauty of the birthplaces of civilization. It also serves as a testament to Brooks's loss of innocence and subsequent disillusionment with war, in an environment that tests survival skills as much as it does a budding photojournalist's abilities. The book explores, too, Brooks's experiences as a Western woman in a society where women are neither seen nor heard, and the fear and fascination she feels because of the contrast to her own background, her loss of sense of place and belonging, and how the fragmentation of war seems to lead to her own personal fragmentation.

As she is leaving Afghanistan in late 2010 to cover the unraveling of the Mubarak and Qaddafi regimes in Egypt and Libya, a military officer tells Brooks that "there is nowhere else where the beauty of God and the folly of man are so evident." Through her, we are all witness to the global aftermath of 9/11. --Nancy Powell, freelance writer and technical consultant

Editor Amy Walker is joined by some 30 authors--policy-makers, researchers, business owners, activists, parents and/or cyclists--in this instructive manual. On Bicycles is not concerned with colorful Spandex, racing bikes or speed. Rather, this is a handbook for North Americans who want to use bicycles for commuting, transportation and fun.

The book covers a range of subjects and possible needs. First, why we ride: for better health, for the environment, for a better connection with our communities. Next, chapters cover what gear is needed, how to ride safely in various conditions, how to make the transition away from the car; how to transport kids by bike and how to get them on bikes themselves; how to use a bicycle for cargo needs; different kinds of bicycles; community services and connections including and beyond the retail bike shop; and redesigning our infrastructure and culture to allow for more and better biking. Your experienced-cyclist-and-book-reviewer learned new things; the novice rider will be thoroughly equipped with information and empowered by the enthusiasm pouring off these pages.

Walker's examples come largely from that exemplary bike town, Portland, Ore., and some of her discussion feels a bit removed for cyclists in, say, Houston--but her arguments and advice are more, rather than less, relevant for cities (and riders) with further to go before reaching cycling nirvana. The only caveat: if you are in the camp that occasionally resents Portland's reputed smugness, you may find a touch of that here. But it might be worth the stellar and scrupulous advice. --Julia Jenkins, librarian and blogger at pages of julia

Amanda Smith's (Hostage to Fortune: The Letters of Joseph P. Kennedy) exhaustively researched biography of Cissy Patterson begins several decades before her birth, with her grandfather Joseph Medill and his creation of the Chicago Tribune. The extended family of Medills, Pattersons and McCormicks would be newspaper royalty for several generations; but perhaps none cut a stranger figure than Cissy.

Eleanor Medill Patterson, known as Cissy, led was born in 1881 into a fractious, influential newspaper family and married a dissolute Polish count who turned out to be broke and who kidnapped their daughter, Felicia. With great effort and the interventions of powerful political figures from around the world, she regained her daughter and divorced. The countess then had a series of unsatisfying relationships and grew estranged from Felicia; published two acclaimed novels; and married a Jewish man despite her apparent anti-Semitism and eventual sympathy with the Nazi cause in World War II. Late in life, she began a newspaper career as journalist, editor and, finally, publisher and owner of the enormously successful Washington (D.C.) Times-Herald, which she created out of two failing papers. When she died in 1948, alcoholic, vindictive and erratic Cissy left a fortune, including ownership of the Times-Herald, whose disposition was held up by court battles sparked by conflicting wills and accusations of her insanity.

Called "perhaps the most powerful" and the "most hated" woman in America in the 1940s, Cissy's fascinating and curious life is examined here in detail. But this lengthy book is never boring, because its subject is such an outrageously flamboyant and historically significant figure. --Julia Jenkins, librarian and blogger at pages of julia

In May, hip-hop artist Common was invited to perform at the White House as part of an event celebrating young people and poetry. Outraged critics--Sean Hannity and Sarah Palin among them--responded by amplifying and misconstruing out-of-context lyrics, labeling Common a "vile rapper" and decrying the Obamas' association with him.

Anyone familiar with Common's work recognizes these claims for what they are. A self-styled "conscious artist," Common promotes a message of peace and social justice. In One Day It'll All Make Sense, he explains how that message developed, and how Lonnie Rashid Lynn became rapper, actor and activist Common.

One Day is more autobiography than memoir, beginning with his childhood on Chicago's South Side and closing with his account of the recent controversy. In between, we learn about his personal renewals, transformative relationships and ethos as an artist. He writes of faith, love, fame and fatherhood, all rooted in his relationship with his mother, Mahalia, who made significant contributions to the book.

Each chapter begins with an intimate letter to an important influence in his life--Mahalia, his daughter, close friends and ex-girlfriends, and even to hip-hop itself: "You are here to provide a voice for the voiceless, hope for the hopeless, life for the lifeless, love for us all," he writes.

Fans of Common will gain the most from One Day, but anyone interested in the history of hip-hop or in contemporary black icons will find something to appreciate here, as the book is chock-full of stories of his encounters with everyone from Tupac and Biggie to Nelson Mandela and Maya Angelou. --Hannah Calkins, Unpunished Vice

After years of comfortable suburban life, Lou Ureneck found himself reeling from a series of crises: a divorce, a job loss, a health scare and his mother's death. In desperate need of both a project and a place to get away and rest, Ureneck purchased five acres in western Maine, enlisting the help of his brother and nephews to build a simple cabin retreat.

A longtime journalist, Ureneck has a keen eye for facts: he takes readers methodically through the building process, including details (sometimes too many) about windows and doors, roofs and foundations. He records the beauty of each season in New England, noticing birds and other creatures as they construct their own homes. He weaves these scenes together with reminiscences about his boyhood on the Jersey shore, when he earned money trapping for fur in the winter and fishing for blue crab in the summer. These nature meditations prove more lyrical and ultimately more interesting than the step-by-step building process.

While definitely inspired by Walden, Cabin is more than a "go to the woods" memoir; it is the story of a man who moved around frequently as a child and has always struggled with the concepts of home and family, even avoiding contact with his brother for some years. As the cabin takes shape and the work crew deals with equipment problems, bad weather and several personal crises, it becomes clear that this is not simply about building a cabin, but about rebuilding a life and a family--together. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

Last fall, Sports Illustrated splashed a cover story declaring football to be on the verge of changing forever. Based on what science is discovering about the lasting effects of repeated blows to the head, SI said, it's going to become impossible to defend the kind of hard hits that drive the National Football League's raucous popularity. As the NFL ponders its responsibility to its players as well as its role as an example to millions of college and high school players, researchers are also finding that seemingly safer sports such as soccer and basketball put players at risk of serious head injury as well. Parents are beginning to question whether they should allow their children to play any contact sports.

Lynda Carroll, a health writer for MSNBC, and David Rossner, a former sportswriter for Newsday, wade into the discussion with a book compiling the most salient research as well as some truly chilling anecdotes. Carroll and Rossner detail such serious phenomena as post-concussion syndrome, which can have debilitating effects on mood, personality and brain function long after a blow to the head; second impact syndrome, which has caused death when a concussed athlete returns to play; and the dementia that haunts the ranks of retired boxers.

There are a few alarmist digressions into sketchy cases, but Carroll and Rossner for the most part assemble a thorough accounting of what science is telling us now about the frightening effects from what used to be considered "mild" head injuries. This is required reading for sports-minded families. --Cherie Ann Parker, freelance journalist and book critic

Linda Urban (A Crooked Kind of Perfect) once again creates a snapshot of a young person's life that focuses sharply on her emotional evolution.

Mattie Breen is about to start fifth grade. This will be her fourth school. Mattie is excited about her latest move, however, because she and her mother are back in her mother's childhood home, and Uncle Potluck is there. As the "director of custodial arts" at Mitchell P. Anderson Elementary, Uncle Potluck will be at her new school, too. Mattie follows him around, meticulously taking notes in her notebook, which she calls "Custodial Wisdom." These range from practical pointers ("When going to investigate a leak, bring a bucket"), to advice that also applies to larger situations: "Fix things before they get too big for fixing."

Uncle Potluck likes to tell stories. He says that when he talks to the moon, the moon talks back. "Hound dog true," he explains. Mattie used to tell stories, until last year, when a classmate got hold of one of her stories and bullied her ever after. Now Quincy, a neighbor's niece who loves to draw as much as Mattie loved to write, seems to be making overtures of friendship. But Mattie doesn't know if she dares open up again. Uncle Potluck helps a bit behind the scenes, but Mattie also learns to help herself. She discovers she may have something important to say after all. A masterpiece of understatement. --Jennifer M. Brown, children's editor, Shelf Awareness

Bill Willingham's (the Fables series) storytelling here (a slightly different version of which was published by his Clockwork Storybook collective in 2001) is reminiscent of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Twelve-year-old Max the Wolf (who's not a wolf) is not carried into another world by a twister, as Dorothy was. Instead, he has no recollection of how he appeared in the Heroes Woods. A quintessential Boy Scout who doesn't panic about his amnesia, Max relies on his "five most important rules of detection" to determine his surroundings. He realizes he's landed in a very different world when Banderbrock, a warrior badger, talks to him. Banderbrock, who suffers from amnesia, too, believes they are in the afterlife.

As they search for home and answers, Max and Banderbrock realize they're being hunted down in the Heroes Woods by Blue Cutters, a gang that uses their swords to change the essence of their prey. They're rescued by one of the book's most memorable characters, McTavish the Monster, a barnyard cat known by many exaggerated titles, including Lord Mousebane and Dogkiller. Soon they meet the affable Walden the Bear, which completes a collection of eccentric characters that readers will likely fall in love with and long remember.

Instead of journeying down a yellow brick road, this band of fugitives travels down the Mysterly River, to seek the Wizard Swift for sanctuary from Blue Cutters and answers about how to return home. The wizard behind this curtain is genre-breaking. --Adam Silvera, a bookseller and intern at Figment.