When her best friend Stella Rose dies of cancer, Abby St. Claire--single, independent and wracked by grief--becomes guardian to Stella's teenage daughter, Olivia. Moving from her city apartment to Stella's house in rural Vermont, Abby steps gingerly into her new world, mourning the loss of her friend while trying to care for a teenage girl bereaved and seemingly bent on self-destruction. Through the turbulent first year after Stella's death, Abby and Olivia navigate life without her, sometimes clashing, other times clinging to one another. Their journey is aided by a series of monthly letters Stella left behind for each of them--but even Stella's wisdom can't shield her daughter and her best friend from heartbreak.

Debut novelist Tammy Flanders Hetrick writes Stella Rose in Abby's voice, exploring the complicated emotions of grief: anger, sadness, exasperation, even joy. Stella's monthly letters wind through the book like a ribbon, providing a few touching moments but also highlighting her absence; they can be only a hollow substitute for Stella herself. Abby's job at a local museum and her attraction to two men, and Olivia's struggles at school round out the story, guiding both women through their time of loss and into an exploration of living beyond it. The plot's climax veers toward melodrama, but a supporting cast of down-to-earth characters stabilizes the story and gives both Abby and Olivia a safe place to land.

Warmhearted and sincere, Stella Rose is a sensitive portrait of loss, friendship and the families we choose. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

"That day I am seventeen and I am wearing the boots of a whore." So begins Maureen Gibbon's Paris Red, a novel of art, love, sex and survival in 1860s Paris. Victorine, the red-haired narrator, is not a whore herself; the boots were a gift. She works instead as a brunisseuse--silver burnisher--along with her best friend and roommate, Nise. The two sometimes pick up men, though, and this new one, Eugène, is different from the others: he wants them both. Unlike Nise, Victorine pursues experience headlong, wanting to feel it all, and it is she who wins Eugène's devotion. In the process she puts ambition above friendship, losing Nise, choosing instead a position as Eugène's model and muse. She purchases oils and pastels for him, poses for sketches and paintings, and luxuriates in the role of his lover.

Paris Red is a sensual, luscious novel, filled with tastes, smells and sounds, as well as colors. Eugène is actually Édouard Manet, strolling the streets under a false name, but Gibbon's focus here is Victorine, the real historical model for Manet's Olympia. She finds a home for her passion for color in his studio, and plays model-actor in Eugène's world, while also learning about--and never losing--herself.

In powerful, vivid prose, Gibbon (Thief) pulls her reader into a sensory Paris that cuts across class lines, painting a strikingly intense and intelligent young woman in Victorine. The overall effect is erotic, but also clever and perceptive, a remarkable glimpse into a moment of art and time. Readers will never view Olympia the same way again. --Julia Jenkins, librarian and blogger at pagesofjulia

John Brown's 1859 raid on Harpers Ferry, Va., in an attempt to start a slave insurrection, led to his execution and fanned the flames of dissension already smoldering across the country. But the story of Brown's family, especially his daughters, is less well known, though they supported his antislavery work. Taking Brown's daughter Sarah as her central figure, Sarah McCoy weaves a richly layered story of love and sacrifice in her third novel, The Mapmaker's Children.

McCoy (The Baker's Daughter) juxtaposes Sarah Brown's story with that of Eden, a woman living in modern-day New Charlestown, W.Va.--mere miles from Harpers Ferry. Lonely and isolated, struggling with infertility and the chasm it has opened in her marriage, Eden stumbles upon a porcelain doll head in a hidden root cellar. With the help of an inquisitive neighborhood girl, she begins investigating the doll's history, which leads them to the Underground Railroad and a surprising connection to Sarah Brown.

While the rich historical detail in Sarah Brown's chapters (including letters, telegrams and newspaper articles) can make Eden's modern-day setting feel a bit bland by comparison, both women are vivid, complicated characters. Their stories gradually intertwine, until the final chapters lead to a surprising and satisfying conclusion.

In vibrant yet unassuming prose, McCoy tells a story of womanhood past and present, asking deep questions about family, courage and love. Readers will enjoy solving the historical puzzle of the doll's origins, but the book's biggest strength is its portrayal of Eden and Sarah: two brave women bound together by the difficult, noble work of building worthwhile lives. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

Bianca Goddard, daughter of an infamous alchemist, earns a living by making salves and remedies for the poor of Southwark, using chemical skills she learned from her father. So when her friend Jolyn, a former muckraker of the muddy Thames riverside trying to work her way up in Tudor society, comes to her complaining of stomach pains, Bianca quickly mixes her a peptic brew. To Bianca's shock and dismay, a few minutes later Jolyn convulses and dies.

Many people, including the local constable, assume that Bianca poisoned Jolyn. But Bianca knows that her brew was harmless, and quickly deduces that the stomach pains of which Jolyn had complained must mean she'd already been poisoned before she arrived.

Desperate to prove her own innocence and to find her friend's killer, Bianca begins an investigation into the seamy side of London life: a trail that leads her from the riverside scavengers all the way to a wealthy merchant who owns ships that sail the river's length.

Those who enjoy C.J. Sansom's Matthew Shardlake mysteries or Sam Thomas's Midwife mysteries are sure to enjoy The Alchemist's Daughter. Set in a familiar time, but focusing on  the oppressed and poverty-stricken rather than the lords and queens who usually frequent Tudor books, The Alchemist's Daughter is an unusual story. With her first novel, Mary Lawrence has done an excellent job of bringing the 1540s--with all their noise, filth, intrigue and interest--to life. --Jessica Howard, blogger at Quirky Bookworm

Kathy Patalsky's Healthy Happy Vegan Kitchen perfectly matches her Healthy. Happy. Life. brand: "This food-filled, wellness-seeking, happiness-embracing adventure starts in your kitchen and ends wherever you wish." As a child, Patalsky's love of animals drew her to a plant-based lifestyle; she became a vegan in 2002. While the more than 250 vegan recipes in this collection "are rich in life, rather than death," the sins of the meat and dairy industries are not the focus of this upbeat, cheerful cookbook. Patalsky welcomes "new vegans, savvy long-time vegans, non-vegans, part-time vegans, wannabe vegans and even 'I will never be' vegans."

Her role is a culinary playmate, and to facilitate this role she includes a list of helpful kitchen tools (most will be familiar to any home cook, except possibly "nut milk bag") and staples for the vegan pantry (which may be less familiar--for example, nutritional yeast). The recipes are grouped loosely by course. Breakfast offerings include Cranberry-Nut Farro Porridge and Peanut Butter Toasted Coconut Oatmeal Bars. Old standbys are reinvented, like the Eggless Salad Sandwich and the Toasty Tuxedo Grilled Cheese. As expected, salads, soups and veggie burgers abound, but with a twist: Sweet Potato Veggie Burger with Avocado or the BBQ Peanut Burger. Vegetarians are often forced to create entrees out of side dishes, but Patalsky suggests veggie sides that are truly side dishes; her entrees deserve to be front-and-center, and her desserts are just as tempting as any bakery offering. Healthy Happy Vegan Kitchen celebrates why "there is no diet on earth more uplifting to one's body, mind, and soul than a vegan one." --Kristen Galles from Book Club Classics

Journalist Mireya Navarro has faced many challenges: leaving her home in Puerto Rico for college in Washington, D.C.; writing for the San Francisco Examiner for a decade; earning a spot at the New York Times, covering Miami, Puerto Rico, Houston and, eventually, 9/11. But she wasn't prepared for Eddie, her stepdog.

Immersed in her career and loving New York, Navarro was elated when she discovered a kindred spirit in Jim, also a Times journalist, based in Los Angeles. A bicoastal romance blossomed, and while Jim's two children accepted her, Eddie, Jim's barking, spotted, "big galoot" of a protective rescue dog, was a tough sell.

The two kept Navarro's New York apartment, plus the L.A. house, maintaining their own careers and giving the kids stability. A wedding, however, did not sway Eddie. Typically, Navarro would awake to the dog "in hysterics, jumping on me, jumping on Jim and trying to get between us, preventing me from getting close enough to our man." Many walks, belly rubs and standoffs later, the intruder-wife came to accept "Edweirdo" as "the one common denominator that everyone loved." Ever the journalist, Navarro studied pet behavior and consulted a "dog shrink," and 10 years into her relationship she concluded that Eddie symbolized the stress of becoming a "step" in a family.

Stories from Jim's and Navarro's careers, trips to Puerto Rico and their loving marriage balance the tales of Eddie the terrible. Navarro's memoir ends with advice: "Top 10 Do's and Don'ts when you find a dog in your romance." Readers will recognize that she's tried them all. --Cheryl Krocker McKeon, manager, Book Passage, San Francisco

"Society makes girls and women more vulnerable to self-criticism," psychotherapist and career counselor Dr. Jacqueline Hornor Plumez writes in The Bitch in Your Head. Plumez refers to the often pervasive, interior female voice of disapproval that preys upon secret vulnerabilities--even in seemingly successful and confident women--as "The Bitch." This destructive, demoralizing force is behind accusatory self-talk and insults like, You look fat.... Why didn't you...? How could you say that...? You're a horrible person/mother/wife/friend. Plumez demonstrates that "naming and 'externalizing' a problem makes it easier to recognize and fight." By examining "The Bitch" as a syndrome of sabotage, the author makes an informative and compelling case that identifies why women beat themselves up, and often feel inferior and unworthy to the point they fear losing love, health and approval.

According to Plumez, "The Bitch" takes many forms. It can permeate all aspects of life, starting in childhood and reappearing at pivotal moments, from dating to marriage and divorce, parenting and work, and even in the golden years. It has the capacity to interfere with sleep, diminish productivity and exacerbate self-defeating tendencies, guilt, depression and phobias. Over the course of 16 thought-provoking chapters, detailed case studies reveal stories of women trying to combat and keep "The Bitch" at bay. Plumez's strategies, tools and techniques transform this negative inner voice from insulting and demeaning to encouraging and empowering, which can, in turn, improve a woman's quality of life. --Kathleen Gerard, blogger at Reading Between the Lines

Stare long enough at an image in Japan Journeys: Famous Woodblock Prints of Cultural Sights in Japan and you will find that the din of a busy Edo bridge feels familiar; the breezes on the water almost drift off the page. The prints in this collection document bygone Japan, location by location, from verdant shrines to Ryogoku, home of Tokyo's sumo hall. Whether it's Technicolor train scenes or the spare beauty of Mount Fuji, this volume encompasses a large swath of Japanese history and culture, made all the more edifying by art historian Andreas Marks's knowledgeable prose.

One of the book's most appealing facets is its inclusion of different styles, periods, and locations. Well-known masters like Utagawa Hiroshige stand alongside artists from every region and period. Stylistically, the differences are striking. In the "Temples and Shrines" section, Kawase Hasui's color-drenched "Iris Garden at Meiji Shrine" follows Tamagawa Shucho's "View of Shinmeigu Shrine in Shiba," a crowded scene in pale peaches and grays. These sometimes disparate images converse with each other, illuminating the stylistic mores that dominated their respective eras. Marks's commentaries place a given work within its wider historical context, helping unversed readers discern necessary information.

With its glossy pages and bold colors, Japan Journeys does justice to its content, gathering a curated set of woodblock images that give the reader a holistic view of the artistic tradition. It's an essential gift for lovers of Japanese landscapes and city scenes, and an ideal entrée for art lovers who are less familiar with the style. --Linnie Greene, freelance writer

In this charming father-son tale, Tad grows from tadpole to full-fledged frog but never outgrows his wish to be near his dad.

"As soon as I could wiggle," says Tad, "I swam everywhere with my dad." David Ezra Stein's (I Am My Own Dog) predominantly watercolor illustrations (with some marker and crayon in the mix) simulate the underwater life of a pond as Tad and Dad swim beneath its surface. In his daily refrain, Tad says, "Dad tried to tuck me in at night,  but--SPLASH! I followed him to his bed." These consistently appear as a trio of vignette illustrations that also serve to chart Tad's growth. The "SPLASH!" gets bigger as Tad grows larger. In between, Stein varies the father-son activities: swimming, jumping and singing ("The pond was alive with the sound of music," says Tad in a nod to Julie Andrews's Maria). A final full-page "SPLOOSH!" when Dad tries to tuck him in at night marks Tad's maturity. Stein sympathizes with parents of young children, as Dad registers his sleep deprivation through wide-eyed frustration ("Why do you want to sleep in my bed?... Are you trying to drive me bananas?").

A surprise twist proves Tad's gut instinct about what Dad likes best was right all along. --Jennifer M. Brown, children's editor, Shelf Awareness

It's the king's birthday, and all of the animals' special treats are going missing! Who is the thief, and where's the beef?

Tarantula placed an "extra tender piece of beef" atop King Lion's birthday cake. He leaves to find his knife and when he returns, "the tender piece of beef is gone!" Linda Faas pictures an eight-legged chef dwarfed by his toque. First, Tarantula checks Gorilla's mouth: "You smell like bananas," Tarantula observes. Gorilla is making a banana soup for the monarch's big day. Faas creates a balanced composition in which the gorilla swirls across the right-hand side of the spread, with Tarantula picking up on the primate's white teeth, wide eyes and rimmed nostrils, and a growing mound of banana peels rises from the left-hand side.

"Gorilla did not take the meat. Who is the beef thief?" the refrain repeats, as Tarantula checks with Snake, the herbivore Giraffe, Elephant, Crocodile and others. Faas makes the most of each double-page spread, whether Snake dangles from a vine, supporting a tray of eggs with his tail, Giraffe extending a long neck or Crocodile coiling around the perimeter of the pages.

When everyone brings their offerings to the birthday banquet, the culprit becomes clear in a satisfyingly humorous ending. --Jennifer M. Brown, children's editor, Shelf Awareness