Anita Diamant (The Red Tent) delves into early 20th-century Boston as seen through the eyes of a young Jewish woman, Addie Baum. Taking the form of an interview of 85-year-old Addie by her 22-year-old granddaughter, The Boston Girl starts in 1915 when Addie is 16 years old.

She lives in a one-room tenement apartment with her Mameh and Papa and her older sister Celia. Addie's other sister, Betty, lives by herself--Mameh thinks she's a "whore" for moving out before she's married, and Addie misses her terribly. Living in such squalor, with a home life that lacks any joy, Addie spends as much time as possible at school and the library. At school and at Saturday Club--a literary reading group that meets at the library--Addie forges friendships with a circle of girls that will last throughout her life and meets the female instructors who influence her choices and decisions later on.

With the help of her friends, Addie learns how difficult it is to make a mark on the world, due to discrimination against women in the workforce and against Jews in particular. Through her avid interest in reading and writing she lands a job at a newspaper and manages to become her own woman. This rich tapestry weaves together the joys and sorrows of families struggling to cling to old-country ways as their youngest members embrace a new culture with the success that often comes from strong bonds of friendship forged in childhood. --Lee E. Cart, freelance writer and book reviewer

The life and work of the German writer H.G. Adler (1910–1988) was relatively uncelebrated in the U.S. until W.G. Sebald published Austerlitz in 2001. Sebald wrote in detail about the German concentration camp Theresienstadt, drawing much of his material from Adler's nonfiction book about the camp--Adler was imprisoned there for more than two years and also survived Auschwitz and two labor camps near Buchenwald. This renewed interest in Adler led to the English translation and publication of his first novel, Panorama, the beginning of what has come to be known as the Shoah trilogy, followed by The Journey. Now, with The Wall, all three novels are finally available in English, thanks to translator Peter Filkins who has been at this monumental project (all 1,500 pages of it) for many years.

Like Adler's two previous novels, The Wall is about memory, the Holocaust and bearing witness. Arthur Landau, a Holocaust survivor who now lives in a town like London with his second wife and two children, is coming to grips with his memories and his nightmares. After losing his first wife and family in the war, he's now trying to survive on little money while he writes his Sociology of Oppressed Peoples. His first-person narration goes on for 600 chapterless pages, switching between a stream of consciousness, dreams, what might be imagined and what is actually happening. Adler brilliantly details a tortured man trying to deal with his survivor's guilt and the "wall" to his past he can't seem to breach. --Tom Lavoie, former publisher

In The Wolf and the Lamb, his third early-first-century mystery starring Gamaliel, Frederick Ramsay (Holy Smoke) boldly sets his story during the week of Jesus's crucifixion. Pontius Pilate, the Roman prefect of Jerusalem, has been arrested for murder, and he calls upon Gamaliel, chief rabbi of the Sanhedrin (the highest council of Jewish law), to prove his innocence.

Gamaliel is reluctant to help the prefect, symbol of the Roman oppression, but he suspects that Pilate has been framed, and his innate honesty will not allow him to stand by as an innocent man is convicted. Gamaliel fears that his peers will scorn him as a collaborator, so he enlists the help of his friend Loukas, a physician, to help him wrap up the case quickly. Complicating matters for Gamaliel and Loukas are the other Roman officials, who are greedily eyeing the Prefect's position, and Caiaphas, the High Priest, who is obsessed with a mystical rabbi known as Yeshua (Jesus). Caiaphas wants Gamaliel to abandon Pilate to his fate, and help him convict Yeshua of blasphemy.

Ramsay walks a delicate line, balancing history and biblical tradition with intriguing fiction to produce a surprisingly believable alternate reason for Jesus's crucifixion. He creatively establishes a scenario that forces Pilate to free the murderer Barabbas, instead of Jesus, in order to save his own skin. The historical detail involved in Gamaliel's investigation makes the story entirely plausible, and will engage both mystery lovers and church-history buffs. --Jessica Howard, blogger at Quirky Bookworm

At the opening of Five, the psychologically disturbing debut thriller from Ursula Archer, Austrian detective Beatrice Kaspary is flustered by her belligerent ex-husband's attempts to gain additional time with their kids, but quickly puts her personal matters aside when she's called to the scene of a murder. Beatrice and her partner Florin Wenninger discover strange numbers and letters tattooed on the bottom of the dead woman's feet and soon realize that they are geographic coordinates. They follow the coordinates and find a human hand in a box, accompanied by a cryptic note they struggle to decipher.

The dead bodies pile up as the detectives follow the murderer's gruesome trail of clues across Austria. Beatrice and Florin are drawn into the world of geocaching as they find hints that lead to stashed horrors--including severed ears and, eventually, a human head. Before the body count can rise further, Beatrice and Florin must outwit the killer and save his intended victims.

For the uninitiated, Archer's explanation of this usually innocuous GPS-based game is clear, and her detectives are believably frustrated as they struggle to figure out the murderer's creepy scheme. When the killer begins texting Beatrice, it's clear that this case has suddenly become very personal. Florin and Beatrice's likeability and the vivid Austrian setting are a pleasant contrast to the grisly crimes and ultimately shocking denouement. This unusual case is bound to inspire more than a few mystery fans to try geocaching in the hopes of finding less-disturbing treasure. --Jessica Howard, blogger at Quirky Bookworm

Lila Day used to be a police officer. Now she solves cold cases for Teddy Hawkins, a billionaire who created a time machine. In order to preserve the past and not hurt their present, Lila has to obey Teddy's instructions. The only problem is Lila's not great at following rules. Her passion--the reason she excels at investigating murders--often leads her to make poor decisions and blinds her to the damage her meddling may cause. To avoid disaster, Teddy carefully chooses the cases she works, and any case with a personal connection is strictly prohibited.

Ten years ago, Lila's sister, Ava, was accused of murdering software tycoon Jack Warren, on the night of his 50th birthday. Certain of her sister's innocence, Lila convinces Teddy to send her back in time to find out what really happened the night Jack died. Arriving in the year 2008, she gains employment on Jack's luxury yacht by posing as a stewardess. Lila is quickly thrown into the dramatic and unpredictable world of the glitterati and self-important plutocrats, where she discovers that everyone aboard the ship has a reason to hate Jack and many also possess the means to murder.

From start to finish of Liv Spector's sophomore effort (after The Rich and the Dead), each new piece of information complicates both the plot and relations between characters. Set against the tantalizing backdrop of excess consumption and privilege beyond the scope of most people, The Beautiful and the Wicked is an entertaining whodunit. --Justus Joseph, bookseller at Elliott Bay Book Company

Foreign correspondent and former Los Angeles Times reporter Sebastian Rotella has spent decades covering cross-border crime, drug-trafficking, terrorism and Muslim sects. In 2011, he rolled all this into his first novel, Triple Crossing, an international crime thriller featuring Valentine Pescatore, a U.S. Border Patrol agent from Chicago of Mexican-Argentine-Italian descent. The Convert's Song picks up with Pescatore in Buenos Aires, where Triple Crossing ended. He is working for a local private investigator and trying to get over a love affair with his federal-agent handler from the complicated, brutal undercover operation that ended his Border Patrol career.

In what appears to be a chance meeting, Pescatore runs into his oldest childhood Chicago friend, Raymond, a silver-tongued lothario, occasional drug dealer, failed club singer and recent convert to Islam. When a terrorist attack on a Buenos Aires mall kills 200, a warning phone message from Raymond launches Pescatore into a manhunt for those responsible. He joins the attractive French intelligence agent Fatima Belhaj on a trail that runs through Bolivia, Paris, Spain and finally ends in Baghdad, where he confronts a ruthless Iranian brigadier general in a meeting brokered by Raymond.

His cover blown by Iranian Intelligence, Raymond tells Pescatore his backup plan: "As long as you got something or someone to offer, you can always convert." With an investigative journalist's insider knowledge and a thriller writer's pace, The Convert's Song is a convoluted trip through the world of terrorist cells fueled by drug money and extremism--and the most dangerous player is often any convert who works only for himself. --Bruce Jacobs, founding partner Watermark Books & Cafe, Wichita, Kan.

In his third volume of collected works, You're Not Lost If You Can Still See the Truck, Bill Heavey (It's Only Slow Food Until You Try to Eat It) mainly draws from his work in Field & Stream, where he serves as editor at large. Spanning 26 years, these pieces focus largely on fishing, hunting and general outdoor antics, but occasionally touch on more personal subjects, such as fatherhood, divorce, grief, health and family. Self-deprecating humor is clearly Heavey's greatest strength (especially refreshing, given the hyper-masculine hobbies under consideration), and the bulk of this collection is laugh-out-loud hilarious, but he demonstrates a distinct ability for gravity when called for, which adds a welcome note of complexity. For example, "Can I Tell You Something?" soberly explores the reasons some hunters and fishermen cease to enjoy certain aspects of their sports.

Heavey provides tongue-in-cheek critiques of the outdoor enthusiast's retail market, tells charmingly and sometimes embarrassingly funny stories of his escapades and generally exhorts the reader (presumably an everyman or -woman like the author) not to take himself too seriously. His satisfyingly personal tone renders him a fully developed figure--a friend, even. The collection is more than the sum of its parts, tracing the arc of an amateur becoming a seasoned outdoorsman (though not an expert, as Heavey would be quick to point out), with examples of his persistent incompetence. Enjoyment of the entertaining result does not require a love of hunting or fishing. --Julia Jenkins, librarian and blogger at pagesofjulia

Historian Timothy R. White considers an unexamined intersection of urban history and theater history in Blue-Collar Broadway: The Craft and Industry of American Theater. Broadway as his subject is both a geographical area in New York City and a representation of theater in the United States; his focus is the crafts and trades that have supported Broadway in both its meanings over the years.

As White shows, for every singing, dancing actor who treads the boards, myriad supporting players are necessary. Stagecraft covers the craftspeople (carpenters, painters, seamstresses, milliners, costumers and designers) who produce the backdrops, painted scenery, furniture, drapes, props, costumes, wigs and makeup, working with a variety of raw materials, including lumber, paint, fabric. Later in history, lighting and sound riggers and technicians joined this list (in fact, the arrival of electric lighting prompted improvements in costumes and scenery, since they could now be seen clearly). These craftspeople were then challenged by the ascension of alternate media (radio and, to a lesser extent, film and television) to find new roles.

Blue-Collar Broadway details these trades, their history and their products, and the industrialization and unionization that came with the concentration of theater in New York City's Broadway district. He also offers new explanations for patterns of crime and prostitution in Times Square's recent past, using the context of theater craft. His voice is academic and no-nonsense; any fan of theater history, economics, the patterns of New York City or general urban history will find his meticulous research stimulating. --Julia Jenkins, librarian and blogger at pagesofjulia

Young Mei learns from her beloved Grandpa Tu, master noodle maker, how to find the magic within her and follow in his footsteps, in this story of family, apprenticeship and finding one's calling by Roseanne Greenfield Thong (Round Is a Mooncake).

Grandpa Tu makes "magic with his hands and a bit of dough." Mei watches as he conjures cats, birds and flying fish with his noodles. "If only I had your gift," Mei tells him. "I think you just might," her Grandpa replies. On the day before the emperor's birthday, Grandpa helps Mei slap, knead and stretch the dough. "The rest is up to you," he urges. "Trust in yourself, Mei." Even the Moon Goddess, whose help Mei seeks, tells her, "magic must come from within." Meilo So's (Brush of the Gods) thriving city streets resemble theatrical backdrops as Chinese villagers prepare for the emperor's birthday. Women hang fish from line stretched over balconies, a man plays music on the corner, and a mother carrying a child on her back balances a chicken, flowers and more on a bamboo pole. Colors crowd but never overwhelm the pages, like banners and confetti suggesting a festive atmosphere.

In words and pictures, Thong and So convey the unbeatable combination of faith and hard work. Mei gets strong guidance from Grandpa Tu and the Moon Goddess, but she must not only make the necessary preparations (slap, knead, stretch), she must also believe in herself. --Jennifer M. Brown, children's editor, Shelf Awareness