Lost Canyon, a novel by Nina Revoyr, Los Angeles Times Book Prize nominee (The Age of Dreaming), is an exciting blend of literary fiction and thrilling suspense--a harrowing trip into physical danger and a clever meditation on race relations and bravery.

Four Los Angeles denizens embark on what they think will be a challenging but manageable trek in the Sierras; however, their hike goes horribly wrong when they cross paths with warring pot cultivators. Revoyr succinctly captures the dissimilar lives these hikers led before their trip; they are flawed but easy to identify with and empathetic from the get-go. Gwen Foster is black, a counselor for at-risk youths and reeling from the recent loss of one of her charges. Oscar Barajas is a Hispanic single parent and real estate broker, struggling with the falling housing market. Todd Bridges is an affluent white lawyer with a failing marriage. Tracy Cole, the half-Japanese personal trainer who brings them together, is so driven by her need to cultivate her physical prowess and alpha-female-ness, she may land them in over their heads. When violence flares up, each person reacts in believable ways, yet the choices they make are unexpected, revealing hidden depths and fascinatingly veiled motivations. The drug war sets them against racist antagonists with much darker agendas than anything they've encountered in their urban past.

Lost Canyon moves with headlong propulsion, but Revoyr also captures the quieter moments and restorative aspect of physical exertion in nature. She portrays the confidence one can achieve when the near impossible is surmounted, and how a few random events can alter one's life permanently. --Donald Powell, freelance writer

Wedding dress designer Jenny Tate realizes she's having a hard time distancing herself from her ex-husband, especially when she ends up delivering his baby after his new wife goes into labor unexpectedly. Determined to carve out a life of her own, without this weird ex-family situation, Jenny moves back home to Cambry-on-Hudson. She's excited to be close to her sister, Rachel, and her triplet nieces. It turns out that her move is perfectly timed to lend support when Rachel, who thought she had the perfect marriage, discovers sexts from a colleague on her husband's phone. Rachel isn't sure if she should give Adam a second chance for the sake of their daughters or if their marriage is over.

In a shift from her generally frothier romance novels, Kristan Higgins (Until There Was You) delves into love, sisterhood, loss and grief, as Rachel and Jenny navigate the romantic possibilities and betrayals in their paths. With a perfect balance of laugh-out-loud funny moments--usually created by Jenny's interactions with her extremely handsome neighbor--and some poignant, tear-inducing incidents, as the sisters muse on the death of their father and their own parents' seemingly flawless marriage, If You Only Knew is captivating.

The emotional journeys of these two very different but equally charming sisters makes for excellent reading. Quiet Rachel and outspoken Jenny have to find a way to make peace with their pasts and find a new future, relying on each other the whole way. If You Only Knew is sure to appeal to sisters everywhere. --Jessica Howard, blogger at Quirky Bookworm

In Woman of the Dead, the first in a planned trilogy of crime thrillers, Austrian author Bernhard Aichner introduces readers to Brünhilde Blum--aka "Blum"--the steely, 24-year-old adopted daughter of monstrous, unloving and now elderly parents who run a successful funeral home in Innsbruck. Blum, forced to "lay out the dead since she was seven," uses a family boating trip to settle old scores and liberate herself in a chilling, opening scene that establishes the psychological make-up of Aichner's female antihero.

Evil lurks and follows Blum, even eight years later, after she takes over the mortuary, marries Mark, a dedicated police officer, and gives birth to two beautiful children. When Mark dies in a hit-and-run accident, which later appears to have been murder, Blum, in an effort to transcend her grief, begins her own investigation. She discovers recorded interrogation sessions Mark had with a woman who recounts a graphic scenario where she and two other female immigrants were held captive and repeatedly tortured and raped by five depraved and powerful men with shrouded identities. Blum suspects this case--and those involved--may have contributed to Mark's death and sets off to find the answers that eluded her husband. Via her mortuary background, Blum, a fascinating study in dissociative contradiction, delivers a distinctive brand of vigilante justice.

Aichner has written a vivid, terrifying story. His sparse writing style is fleshed out by provocatively violent scenes, which will draw readers into a grisly, complex web of one woman on a quest for vengeance. --Kathleen Gerard, blogger at Reading Between the Lines

Everyone in Idyll, Conn., is surprised when a young woman named Cecilia North is found shot to death on the town's golf course. It's the late 1990s, and Idyll is not the sort of place that has violent crime, let alone murder. Unfortunately for new police chief Thomas Lynch, everyone in town is watching him as his team attempts to solve the crime. Making the case even trickier is the fact that Lynch saw Cecilia barely an hour before her death. But if he reveals to anyone where he saw her, he'd have to also confess his deepest secret: he's gay.

So Lynch tries to solve the case on his own, without letting his detectives realize what's going on. Idyll may seem idyllic on the surface, but his casual queries soon make Lynch realize that danger, homophobia and prejudice lurk just beneath the surface. He'll have to tread carefully in order to solve Cecilia's murder, without hurting himself politically or personally.

In Idyll Threats, Stephanie Gayle (My Summer of Southern Discomfort) has created an engaging mystery with a believable denouement. But what makes it stand out is its complicated protagonist: Lynch's desperate attempts to find out the truth about Cecilia's death without compromising his own secrets make for fascinating reading. And given the late '90s setting, cell phones are a rarity and Internet searches practically unknown, forcing the detectives to work the case the old-fashioned way, by interviewing the delightfully quirky Idyll inhabitants. --Jessica Howard, blogger at Quirky Bookworm

As the popularity of nut milks and nut cheeses rises and more people embrace a plant-based lifestyle, one of the oldest known sources of food has become one of the hottest health trends today. Patrick Evans-Hylton, food journalist and chef, celebrates nuts, which are portable, protein-rich, nutrient-dense sources of fiber, minerals and vitamins (copper, iron, magnesium, selenium and zinc, to name only a few).

Nuts opens with a history primer ("seven types of nuts were found at a 780,000-year-old archaeological site in Israel's Hula Valley in 2002") and the best uses for the 10 most common and accessible nuts: almonds, cashews, chestnuts, hazelnuts, macadamia nuts, peanuts, pecans, pine nuts, pistachios and walnuts. Evans-Hylton provides information on how to select, store and prepare nuts (for example, whole raw nuts are not only cheaper, but last longer) and then presents recipes that include staples like peanut butter and almond milk, before venturing into Mushroom-Walnut Sauce and Green Olive-Pistachio Tapenade; soups and sides like Williamsburg Peanut Soup and Herbed Chestnut Bread Pudding with Parmesan Cream Sauce; entrees like Grown-Up Grilled Cheese with Cherry-Walnut Compote, Bacon and Brie; and sweets like Pineapple Upside-Down Macadamia Cookies and Banana-Cashew-Ginger Freezer Ice Cream--even a Nutty Fella Martini cocktail.

Beyond the variety of recipes, fun facts abound: Who knew that the walnut tree doesn't produce until 15 years old and that there are more than 30 varieties of almonds? Nuts is not only informative, but a delicious testament to why this nutritional powerhouse has become a widespread favorite. --Kristen Galles from Book Club Classics

Premilla Nadasen (Welfare in the United States) is an associate professor of history at Barnard and a labor and poverty activist. She believes that storytelling is a vital form of activism and though her prose is sometimes dry, the vivid stories and voices of domestic workers and activists dominate her fourth book, Household Workers Unite.

In 1950, 60% of U.S. domestic workers were African American women. White people romanticized the "mammy" image of such workers, the "content and loyal household worker" who was "one of the family"--a member who used separate doors and toilets, ate leftovers in the kitchen and worked long, unpredictable hours for starvation wages. "Considered difficult to organize, and neglected by most labor organizers, they had no choice but to strike out on their own." Later, as the feminist movement gained strength, the experiences and achievements of household workers were often disregarded by those who imagined that paying for housework would raise its status, and by "nice ladies who have bought their freedom from household work at the expense of those who have no choice."

Nadasen overturns the popular image of African American domestic workers in the mid-20th century as passive caretakers and victims. Instead, she shows that they redefined domestic work as a profession deserving decent pay, proper training and respect, and built influential local and national labor organizations. Household Workers Unite adds a significant contribution to the history and ongoing discussions of labor organization, feminism and civil rights. --Sara Catterall

David Vine (Island of Shame) spent six years researching Base Nation, visiting more than 60 bases in 12 countries and territories, studying their history, and interviewing military authorities and local inhabitants. He is convinced that, as of 2015, this network of foreign bases does much more harm than good to U.S. national security and the U.S. economy.

Vine calculates that foreign bases, not including those in war zones, cost the U.S. between $72 billion and $120 billion each year. Meanwhile, improved transportation has made it unnecessary to keep so many troops stationed abroad. He describes how bases strain military families, encourage prostitution and human trafficking, damage the environment and contribute to military tensions rather than keeping the peace. He shows that they have harmed foreign relations over decades as the U.S. forcibly removed local populations, collaborated with dictators and organized crime, and maintained colonial relationships with many host nations in direct contradiction of its stated goal to spread democracy.

However, Vine says that the tide is beginning to turn. "The tremendous costs of maintaining such an unparalleled collection of bases abroad have made closing foreign bases one of the rare ideas that draw support from across the political spectrum." He recommends greater Congressional control of military spending, closing of most bases and annual reviews for those remaining. "We have a chance today to make the investments in transportation, science, education, entrepreneurship, energy and housing that have been neglected while trillions of dollars have been poured into unnecessary wars and military bases abroad." --Sara Catterall 

Ryan Berg's experiences as a residential counselor and subsequent caseworker for an LGBTQ foster program in New York City have shaped No House to Call My Home, which tells the stories of the many kids Berg came to know at his job. Rodrigo takes unnecessary risks--including going to Central Park to pick up older men for sex--in order to feel more alive. Barbara needs to make a plan for what she will do when she ages out of the system; her father will support her only if she agrees to dress like a woman. Christina picks up johns with an interest in trans girls because they make her feel accepted.

Individually, any one of these young men and women has lived through more hardship than any one person should have to face. Collectively, though, their stories combine to reveal a deeply flawed system that is failing the most at-risk youth in the United States.

"People prefer to ignore tragedy unless there's redemption in the end," writes Berg, but No House to Call My Home does not allow that. There is a lot of tragedy here, and very little redemption. But if the system--and by default, the larger population--can look at the issues that surround LGBTQ youth through a different lens, one that acknowledges the "interconnectedness of systemic racism, homophobia, transphobia, and poverty," perhaps we can start to enact change. The first step is recognizing that there is a problem--and it is impossible to read No House to Call My Home without seeing that as plain as day. --Kerry McHugh, blogger at Entomology of a Bookworm

Like Peter Parker, Clark Kent and Bruce Banner before them, an alliteratively named pair of 12-year-old British boys--Rory Rooney and Karol Komissky--one day find themselves unexpectedly "super." Their superpowers coincide with Rory’s "kind of brown" and Karol's "pinkish white" skin turning--also unexpectedly--broccoli green. Rory's superpower is being able to teleport "slightly." Karol (who goes through two name changes in the course of the book) decodes locked doors while sleepwalking like a "spooky Playmobil." The third member of the green team, Koko Kwok, shows up later; she wants to rule the world (she shares her excellent ideas with the prime minister when they're holding him captive).

Fans of Daniel Pinkwater's wacky novels will devour Frank Cottrell Boyce's (Millions, Cosmic) semi-science fiction, somewhat surreal The Astounding Broccoli Boy. In the mix, readers will find a sleepy prince of England and his insomniac baby; escaped gorillas, reindeer and penguins; a borrowed milk truck; and mass urban panic after "alien" sightings. Beneath all the wildly entertaining nonsense, however, is the story of an unlikely friendship formed after the rockiest of starts: "Grim" Komissky (as Rory used to call him behind his back) bullied Rory relentlessly at school before the two of them were thrown together in a hospital isolation ward. And when Grim (by now called Tommy-Lee) says about a hippo roaming the streets of London, "They're probably misunderstood.... Just because they're big, people probably pick on them and ask them to have fights they don't even want," neither Rory nor the author needs to add a thing to underscore the poignant moment. --Emilie Coulter, freelance writer and editor