Unemployed college teacher Kit Noonan is suffering from ennui, and his frustrated wife suggests he'll remain directionless until he answers the question that's haunted him all his life: Who was his father? Like Julia Glass's four earlier novels, And the Dark Sacred Night is a multigenerational family saga; fans of her earlier works will be delighted that likable bookseller Fenno McLeod (of Three Junes and The Whole World Over) is back, playing a significant role.

Kit's mother, Daphne, has never provided a clue to his paternity, so he leaves his wife and children behind in New Jersey and begins his search with her ex-husband. Jasper, a ski slope entrepreneur in Vermont, is eager to reconnect with the stepson he's hardly seen in years. While Kit therapeutically immerses himself in Jasper's life of skis and dog sleds, Jasper shares what he knows of Kit's roots, which propels Kit to contact his biological grandmother.

Along with engaging characters, colorful East Coast locales and revelations of knotty, long-held secrets, Glass incorporates social issues relevant to Kit and his rapidly expanding family, including care of the elderly, still-raw sorrows of World War II, gay rights and the complications of unwed motherhood. Using a then-and-now construction--from Kit's parents' and grandparents' youth to the present--Glass reveals Kit's parentage early on, but the reader is still surprised by the complications his quest unearths. As familial love prevails, new relationships form, and Kit finds his place in the world. --Cheryl Krocker McKeon, bookseller, Book Passage, San Francisco, Calif.

Chipo, the narrator of Meg Vandermerwe's debut novel, Zebra Crossing, stands out like a zebra among ponies, her pale skin and white hair marking her as freak and an oddity in her native Zimbabwe. To some, she is bad luck, the devil's vessel. To others, she's a potential talisman to be coveted, a collection of body parts worth thousands of dollars on the black market. When her beloved mother dies after a long illness, Chipo and her older brother, George, flee to South Africa in search of a new beginning. "Borders rhymes with orders," Chipo tells us, "A border is where you swap home for hope." The 2010 World Cup is rapidly approaching in Cape Town, bringing with it the world's attention and the excitement of a potential economic boom. Instead of a land of welcome and opportunity, however, Chipo and her brother are confronted with a hostile, challenging environment with little room for outsiders. No stranger to bigotry and abuse, Chipo finds herself embroiled in a shady business venture with a snake-oil salesman who exploits superstitious World Cup gamblers.

Zebra Crossing reminds readers that cities often present a very different face when the world is watching. As Chipo says, "Xenophobia is a long word. Complicated, arrogant. It thinks it is smarter than other words. It is a bully." Vandermerwe elegantly conjures the unpleasant underbelly of a familiar moment in recent history, while managing to avoid heavy-handed moralizing. Chipo amounts to more than her chances of redemption, and Zebra Crossing is a story for outsiders anywhere. --Emma Page, bookseller at Wellesley Books in Wellesley, Mass.

Since childhood, Daphne has loved spending summers on the Greek island of Erikousa with her grandmother. Gentle and wise, Yia-yia has always nourished Daphne's body and soul with her simple, hearty food and her retellings of the ancient Greek myths. When Daphne, now a young widow struggling to raise a daughter alone and run a successful Greek restaurant in New York, returns to Erikousa, she expects to revel in the same simple pleasures the island has always offered her. But as Daphne prepares to marry again, Yia-yia and the island have a few new secrets to tell--secrets that will force Daphne to rethink the path her life has taken.

Yvette Manessis Corporon's debut novel, When the Cypress Whispers, deftly evokes the delectable sights, sounds and smells of the Greek heritage she shares with her characters. While the romantic plotline feels predictable, even routine, the supporting cast (including the literal, loud Greek chorus of Daphne's friends and family) is fresh and entertaining. Yia-yia's renditions of several Greek myths, all involving women faced with life-altering choices, are both charming and germane to the story. But the heart of the novel lies in Yia-yia's own experience of love, loyalty and sacrifice during the dark days of World War II.

Sun-drenched, evocative and a wee bit magical, When the Cypress Whispers is both a perfect beach read and a compelling portrait of a family of strong women. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

Light Shining in the Forest by Paul Torday (Salmon Fishing in the Yemen) begins as an eccentric, dreamy tale of an ineffectual pencil-pusher and a family distraught over a missing child whose trail has gone cold. A forester named Geordie works alone on a clear-cut at the English-Scottish border and remembers his missing stepson. A smarmy, self-satisfied career bureaucrat named Norman revels in his latest assignment: in a new pilot program of the British government he is given the title of "Children's Czar" to the North East region, along with a hefty salary and a fine office and nothing to do. He sits at his fancy desk sipping lattes and waits to receive a mission that never comes.

Geordie's stepson has been missing for months; but when more children go missing in a sleepy town nearby, an ambitious young journalist wonders if a children's czar might be just the one to show some concern. Despite Norman's repeated protest that his job is "strategic, not operational," he is eventually goaded into action. When the unlikely team of journalist and bureaucrat initiates an investigation into the missing children, Light Shining in the Forest begins to accelerate into a thriller of great suspense and intensity. What started as a story of a surreal forest and quiet distress becomes a terrifying view into the mind of a monster, with religious overtones and paranormal possibilities and a panicked journey into the heart of the forest. Torday delights in creepy details as he turns his created world on its head; readers will be tempted to stay up late to finish reading but will need to keep all the lights on. --Julia Jenkins, librarian and blogger at pagesofjulia

Jane Austen's books have inspired innumerable continuations and sequels, but the Brontë sisters' novels have fewer retellings. In Solsbury Hill, Susan M. Wyler takes the dark love story of Wuthering Heights and updates it into a contemporary romance.

Life has been straightforward for Eleanor Abbott. She's a successful clothing designer living in Manhattan, and is sort-of engaged to her childhood sweetheart, Miles. But then Eleanor catches Miles cheating and gets a call from her nearly forgotten Aunt Alice, who is dying in Yorkshire. Distraught by Miles's perfidy, Eleanor heads to Trent Hall, her family's ancestral English home, and is quickly absorbed by its isolated, windswept allure.

Eleanor discovers secrets about her family--including rumors that Trent Hall inspired Emily Brontë's beloved novel and that she herself is descended from Emily. She also discovers surprising insights about herself, including an attraction to Mead, her aunt's adopted son. Aunt Alice's dying days remind Eleanor of her own mother's death, sending her on a voyage of reminiscence and self-discovery.

Written in a romantic, spare style, Wyler's novel clearly harks back to its inspiration: Eleanor sleeps in a bedroom within a bedroom, and the dark-haired, inscrutable Mead is actually named Meadowscarp (a synonym for Heathcliff). Solsbury Hill doesn't have the same gothic gravitas as Wuthering Heights, but with its lonely moors, ghostly apparitions and conflicted heroine, Solsbury Hill's literary roots are strong. Wyler's more happily romantic take on the tragic story makes for an enjoying and approachable read. --Jessica Howard, blogger at Quirky Bookworm

Pearl Cleage kept a journal long before her first novel, What Looks Like Crazy on an Ordinary Day, was chosen for Oprah's Book Club. Writing journal entries helped her clarify her thoughts, and she recorded everything from her exuberant reactions to movies and books to her growing feminist awareness and her relentless examination of her own sense of purpose.

Cleage returned to her journals when her adult daughter suggested she burn them, arguing that they were too emotional to be reliable and her tumultuous life and accomplishments were already public. Cleage had worked with Atlanta's first African-American mayor as communications director, written a popular column and had been the wife of a prominent local figure before divorcing and finding eventual literary success. But in the entries, Cleage was confronted with her younger self: unprepared for her life and fearful enough of claiming it that she regularly reminded herself to "be very bold." The journals--selections from which became Things I Should Have Told My Daughter--reveal her struggle to reconcile her public profile with her growing feminism and her private yearning for personal and artistic freedom.

Cleage offers no apologies. Her affairs with married men, her marijuana use and her accomplishments are all present, unedited and unvarnished, without the editorial gloss of hindsight or rationalizing context. The result can occasionally be confusing but provides a powerful emotional immediacy and a full portrait of a woman increasingly unafraid of her ambitions, willing to expose her less admirable side along with her achievements and determined to present the full truth of an evolving self. --Jeanette Zwart, freelance writer and reviewer

In 1932, then-presidential candidate Franklin D. Roosevelt called Douglas MacArthur the most dangerous man in America. Published almost exactly 50 years after MacArthur's death, The Most Dangerous Man in America is far less expansive than William Manchester's American Caesar. Instead, this partial biography stretches from MacArthur's tenure as the army's Chief of Staff (1930–35) to Japan's surrender aboard the U.S.S. Missouri, with only minor mentions of his World War I or Korean War experiences. Mark Perry (Partners in Command; Grant and Twain) follows the controversial general largely during his relationship with FDR, who sought to "tame" MacArthur into a useful political and military tool. The result is a compelling, succinct account of a deeply flawed but brilliant leader, a man seemingly created for the circumstances through which he lived.

The Most Dangerous Man in America revolves around MacArthur's lifelong love of the Philippines. His flight from the Philippines in 1942 is one of several controversial marks on MacArthur's legacy, which Perry skillfully deconstructs. MacArthur was ordered to leave after orchestrating an unexpectedly successful defense against impossible odds, and Perry further examines the general's blunders related to the campaign: MacArthur dodged responsibility for the failure to get his planes airborne prior to the Japanese attack on the Philippines, and he did not recant his singular "I shall return" promise. Through the whirlwind years of fighting that follow, Perry depicts MacArthur as vain and arrogant, but also a great leader of men. With fluid prose and fascinating personalities, The Most Dangerous Man in America should appeal to military history and biography buffs alike. --Tobias Mutter, freelance reviewer

Gail Caldwell's 2010 memoir, Let's Take the Long Way Home, explored the losses that defined her fifth decade: her parents, her best friend and her beloved Samoyed, Clementine. She came into her 60s determined to move on, including starting over with a new puppy. But living with and training an active young dog forced Caldwell to confront just how difficult "moving on" was becoming for her in a physical sense. Caldwell had been compensating for the effects of polio her entire life, and this was getting harder every day. New Life, No Instructions is the story of how she learned she didn't have to continue to compensate, and of how a common medical procedure enabled her to see her life, literally, from a new perspective.

Caldwell's medical history led her and her caregivers to an exotic explanation for her painful limp and poor balance; for years, they had been trying to address the symptoms of what they believed to be the relatively rare Post-Polio Syndrome. In 2011, a new doctor identified her problem as something far more ordinary: her right hip had completely deteriorated, and she needed replacement surgery.

New Life, No Instructions is an affirming and hopeful reminder that sometimes the stories that we tell ourselves turn out to be wrong, but they can lead us to something very right. Caldwell's brief (under 200 pages) memoir of a year of unexpected midlife transformation is clear-eyed and plainspoken. She vividly conveys her sense of wonder and possibility at being in such a new place at such an unexpected time, and it's hard to resist sharing that feeling. --Florinda Pendley Vasquez, blogger at The 3 R's Blog: Reading, 'Riting, and Randomness

The townsfolk of Bonnyripple align their priorities when old Cornelius, the Grudge Keeper, falls prey to a storm in Mara Rockliff's (Me and Momma and Big John) charming tale brimming with wordplay.

In Eliza Wheeler's (Miss Maple's Seeds) pen-and-ink and watercolor wash, old Cornelius's house resembles the Old Woman's Shoe, overflowing with "ruffled feathers, petty snits, minor tiffs and major huffs." They're rolled up under his bed, stuck in glass jars and loaded on a wheelbarrow. Rockliff lists a few of them: Minnie Fletcher's goat gulping down Elvira Bogg's prize-winning zinnias, student Sylvester Quincy snagging the schoolmaster's toupee and Big Otto stomping on Lily Belle's new shoes at the spring fling. When a strong wind sails through Bonnyripple, it delivers the schoolmaster's toupee to Minnie Fletcher's hungry goat and wreaks havoc with the grudges ("low blows rested high" and "left-handed compliments... landed on the right-hand side"). Mischievous though he may be, Sylvester Quincy finds Cornelius buried beneath the grudges. As the townsfolk dig him out, they let their complaints go, until "not a single grudge remained." One last domino effect occurs, but it ends with a happily-ever-after.

Wheeler fills her compositions with tantalizing details. Big Otto perpetually leans forward as if to step on any shoe in his path. Sylvester Quincy, arms outstretched, looks about to pilfer anything he covets. All the more miraculous, then, when the Grudge Keeper's home and hearth become the heart of the community. --Jennifer M. Brown, children's editor, Shelf Awareness