In Welcome to America, Linda Boström Knausgård's second novel (her first published in the U.S.), young Ellen struggles against her own maturation. After the death of her father, Ellen decides to stop speaking to anyone. She blames herself for her father's death after having silently wished it many times, and she fears her future with her intense, explosive brother and narcissistic, flippant mother. While her mother and brother seemingly find ways to move forward, the dark underbelly of their family--her brother's emotional abuse, her mother's self-absorption and inability to face the imperfect truths of her life, the history of her father's mental illness--remains unchanged.

Sparse, sleek and exacting, Boström Knausgård's prose mimics the childlike view at the center of the novel, just as it allows Ellen a mature voice. There is an uncanniness to this perspective. It is both young and old, all-knowing and continuously limited, yearning and terrified. Often, Ellen focuses on her perceived connection to God in conjunction with her disconnection from those around her, who she believes act "as if I didn't exist." While the novel is written as one continuous meditation on the inner workings of a family, the true arc of its tale depends on Ellen's devastatingly futile desire not to grow up: "the whole idea of growing up felt completely wrong. I wasn't going to let it happen." Stalled in this perpetual desire for childhood--or, really, suspicion of adulthood--Ellen provides a haunting and evocative portrait of the process of trauma and the awareness of personal isolationism, even within the structures of faith and family. --Alice Martin, freelance writer and editor

Though a solitary being, Damián Lobo is never fully alone, as the television interviewer that "existed only in [his] imagination" can attest. His constant interviews--complete with imagined supportive audience, commercial breaks and ratings--are interspersed with reality as he narrates every aspect of his life.

Following a minor theft at an antiques mall, Damián hides from the security guard in an empty wardrobe. Before he can escape, the wardrobe is loaded into a truck and delivered to a bungalow on the outskirts of the city. Voyeurism overtakes caution, and instead of sneaking out before he is discovered, Damián observes the small family (husband, wife and teenage daughter) as they go about their day. When he discovers a hidden closet behind the wardrobe, he makes a secret home of it, becoming like "a moray eel hiding in a crevice in the coral."

From this vantage point he spies on his unwitting hosts at night, and during the day washes their dishes, cooks their meals and makes their beds, all while leaving no trace of himself behind. The husband and teenage daughter assume the mother, Lucia, is responsible, while Lucia herself attributes the mystery to a benevolent spirit.

Translated by Thomas Bunstead and Daniel Hahn, From the Shadows is the first book by prestigious Spanish author Juan José Millás to be published in North America. It is a penetrating parable of suburban family life that is effectively rendered through Damián's neurotic (and yet oddly discerning) imaginary interviews. Millás tells a compelling story of human connection in a way that is sometimes crude but also darkly funny, insightful and ultimately surprising. --Jennifer Oleinik, freelance writer and editor

When Larkin Bennett returns home after a tour of duty in Afghanistan, she's grieving the death of her best friend and fellow soldier, Sarah, and struggling to deal with the tragedy that caused it. Among Sarah's possessions, Larkin finds a diary written by Emily Wilson, an ancestor of Sarah who lived and fought as a man during the American Civil War. In her second novel, Today We Go Home, Kelli Estes weaves a thought-provoking narrative of two pairs of strong women, a century and a half apart, fighting to be taken seriously on and off the battlefield.

Estes (The Girl Who Wrote in Silk) draws readers into the lives of both her protagonists, highlighting their contrasts and their similarities. Emily decides to follow her father and brothers into battle because she can't bear the thought of staying home. Larkin is proud of her service to her country, but wracked with guilt over her role in Sarah's death. She struggles with both PTSD and a new direction in life after her honorable discharge. Readers gradually learn more about that day in Afghanistan, and follow Emily through battles and marches. Both stories ask subtle but insistent questions about the treatment of women in the U.S. military (past and present), and the tensions between family, ambition, honor and love. Today We Go Home is a compelling examination of war and its contradictions, and a moving story of two women fighting for their own places in the world. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

International intrigue, secretaries serving as spies and a literary masterpiece figure in The Secrets We Kept, Lara Prescott's debut novel set during the height of the Cold War. This fast-paced narrative focuses on the women in the typing pool at the Central Intelligence Agency. Unbeknownst to their CIA colleagues, Irina and Sally have been tapped for a clandestine mission: smuggling Boris Pasternak's acclaimed novel Doctor Zhivago out of Russia, where it is banned, so that it can be published abroad.

With a plot that sweeps between the Soviet Union and Washington, D.C., The Secrets We Kept is rich with historical details reflecting the tense times of the 1950s. The Soviets "had their satellites, but we had their books," recalls the novel's mysterious narrator, from an unknown vantage point somewhere in the future. (True to the book's atmosphere, Prescott keeps her reader guessing throughout about the speaker's identity.) "Back then, we believed books could be weapons--that literature could change the course of history."

Prescott goes beyond the political into the personal by adding a secondary layer to the novel's prominent themes of secrecy and women's identities. In addition to the Cold War as a backdrop, the Lavender Scare (a witch hunt within the U.S. government during the '50s to out closeted gays and fire them from their jobs) was in full force. When Irina and Sally realize that their feelings for each other go beyond friendship, they face the choice of being true to themselves or living a lie. "We unveil ourselves in the pieces we want others to know, even those closest to us. We all have our secrets." --Melissa Firman, writer at melissafirman.com

In 1361, the Black Death is again sweeping England, and Oswald de Lacy has decided that for the sake of his family, he must take them to stay with his friend Godfrey on the isolated Isle of Eden. Once the portcullis closes behind them, it will not open again until spring. When they arrive, not only do they find that the plague is not far away on the island, but a murder occurs soon after the fortress is secured. Oswald has some previous experience investigating crimes at his own manor and in Venice, so he begins investigating which of the guests and members of the household is the murderer among them.

The fourth in the Somershill Manor mystery series by S.D. Sykes (after City of Masks), The Bone Fire combines elements of the traditional country house mystery with the oppressive atmosphere of 14th-century England during the plague. Other friends seeking sanctuary from Godfrey, a knight overseeing the defense of the fortress, tradesmen in Godfrey's employ and the household servants are all confined together, knowing that one of them must be a murderer, but that leaving the walls means potential exposure to the disease. Deft characterization introduces new readers to the members of the de Lacy family without slowing the pace with excessive explanation of previous events. This claustrophobic mystery full of medieval atmosphere will be as engrossing as an entry point to the series as it will be to returning fans. --Kristen Allen-Vogel, information services librarian at Dayton Metro Library

In the thorough and invigorating Fashionopolis: The Price of Fast Fashion--and the Future of Clothes, Dana Thomas suggests that being fashion-forward means knowing the origin story of our favorite pair of jeans.

Fashionopolis begins with a historical overview of the textile industry, which clings to two ideas from manufacturing's enduring 250-year-old, mass-production model: products must exist before they can be sold, and the more that are made, the cheaper the per-unit cost. In times of "fast fashion" and even faster machines, that's a recipe for a throwaway-clothes culture. Unfortunately, some apparent antidotes to the problem--Sewbots, 3-D printing and other environmentally friendly modern breakthroughs--come with other costs. She acknowledges that industry people have foretold that at a certain point, direct-to-consumer sales, while a move in the green direction, will mean the end of department stores. And, of course, robots, which promise efficiency that can keep down expenses for a conscientious company, kill jobs.

Thomas pins her hopes on the examples set by a batch of forward-thinking companies ranging in size from petite to extra-large. Stella McCartney, for instance, has long been a proponent of sustainability in the fashion industry, and Stony Creek Colors produces indigo, which, until the company's founding in 2012, hadn't been commercially farmed in the United States for more than a century.

Thomas (Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster) approaches Fashionopolis as both an intrepid investigative reporter and an aesthete. One of her many interviewees tidily fuses Thomas's two main concerns--the environment and good design--when she says, "If people still had seamstresses in their families, they wouldn't be chucking things away like they do." --Nell Beram, author and freelance writer

Alexandra Horowitz, director of the Dog Cognition Lab at Barnard College, Columbia University, has conducted extensive scientific research observing and studying dogs--how their brains are wired and sensory systems operate. In Our Dogs, Ourselves, she probes the "dog-human bond," and how "domestic quadrupeds" can tell us much about ourselves. She also explores how dogs' place in society is steeped in great contradiction.

When humans began to domesticate wolves, they "changed the course of the species development." Horowitz recounts how dogs came into human lives and share our world. She examines the ramifications of dog ownership--from strict specifications required of purebreds to mutts adopted from shelters--and care, and clashes surrounding dogs as legal property, as well as arguments for and against dog neutering and spaying. To great effect, Horowitz (Inside of a Dog) overlaps personal and scientific research as she playfully examines dog behavior and cognition and the ways canines are often spoiled. Some dogs are treated like people and members of families, receiving carefully selected names and indulged with special food, toys, socialization goals and costly medical care. She also scrutinizes communication between dogs and humans and why dogs are often thought of as "mirror animals" who hear the phrase "I love you" uttered to them daily by two-thirds of North Americans.

History, facts and data are woven along with entertaining personal anecdotes and asides, allowing Horowitz's findings to be delivered in an appealing, accessible way that readers, especially dog lovers, will savor and absorb. --Kathleen Gerard, blogger at Reading Between the Lines

Nick Flynn's fifth collection of poems is riveting, the verses scalding in their passion. The title piece, "I Will Destroy You," is not just a promise to an unknown visitor, to a traumatic memory felt deep in the bones, but a nod to the incendiary quality of his poetry as a whole. Here is a writer whose intensity owes something both to St. Augustine--whom he name-checks in the final poem--and to the unfiltered Sturm und Drang of punk rock. But Flynn never loses sight of form or intent in his pursuit of artistic (and personal) truth. Works like "Uncloudy Day" and "Saltmarsh" are tightly controlled in their meter and structure, keeping the reader in a state between chaos and discipline. Like many great artists, Flynn (who's also written three memoirs, including Another Bullshit Night in Suck City) is able to hold two opposing ideas within himself and find harmony from this conflict.

That uneasy state is appropriate for I Will Destroy You. The poems collected cross-examine films, dead rock stars, fatherhood and the key memory of Flynn's mother, sometimes interpolating them into rich and unexpected patterns. In the concluding "Saint Augustine," he can't stop returning to his mother's death, unable to stay in the present and with God despite the saint's words. Still, he can find the beginnings of closure within this book and in the relentless work of self-interrogation. It appears that will have to be enough. Ultimately, I Will Destroy You is a superb book that will appeal to fans of Flynn's previous writings while sating the poetry reader who needs some raw power in verse. --C.M. Crockford, freelance reviewer

"I don't want to live here," says Cornelia.

A moving truck sits on the lawn of a large, gloomy house. Cornelia, slumped in a chair, looks around a cluttered room. When she vents her dissatisfaction to her stressed parents, they suggest that "if [she's] not going to help," she should "go and have a look around outside."

Along with her scruffy gray dog, Cornelia crosses an isolated island-of-a-hill, down to a sea of dense trees through which signs of fun can be seen: a treehouse. A long rope ladder descends, and Cornelia hangs onto her dog as she climbs up into an increasingly whimsical world. A boy named Frederik, wearing an eyepatch and a huge grin, waves at her from a hammock on the deck of his nautical-themed treehouse. Frederik welcomes Cornelia inside, where he lives with his many inventions. The "best" by far is the "Jungle Machine," which does exactly what its name suggests: a jungle is conjured, complete with exotic birds and animals, vines and a river to sail along--all the way to a dock outside Cornelia's new home. When she asks if she can visit again, Frederik invites her to come back "every day" if she wishes.

Illustrative details abound in this atmospheric picture book of a mere 112 words. Brech perfectly depicts an oversized, overstuffed, gothic-looking mansion and the frustration of its new young inhabitant, who is small in comparison. Colors brighten as Cornelia's world expands, and both the forest and Frederik's tree-based home seem to contain more light and air. At the end of this mysterious, magical day, Cornelia, it seems, really does want to "live here." --Lynn Becker, blogger and host of Book Talk, a monthly online discussion of children's books for SCBWI

In April 1975, the U.S. implemented Operation Babylift, a mass evacuation of children from South Việt Nam. Twelve-year-old Hằng and her five-year-old brother, Linh, presented themselves at the airport as orphans. Deemed too old, Hằng was helpless as Linh was torn from her arms and carried onto the airplane. An American volunteer pressed a card into the distraught Hằng's hands: "405 Mesquite Street, Amarillo, Texas."

Six years, two months and 15 days later, Hằng is finally on her way to reunite with Linh. Stranded at a rest stop, she ends up in the new, red truck of 18-year-old Leslie Dwight Cooper, who just that morning renamed himself LeeRoy and embarked on a post-high school adventure to become a cowboy. Hằng's singular determination to find Linh takes the unlikely pair on a wild ride, but Linh, now 11 and living happily as David with a new mother he adores, remembers nothing of his faraway past. Hằng must figure out which stories she can share to convince her brother of their connection.

National Book Award winner Thanhhà Lại (Inside Out & Back Again) makes her YA debut with Butterfly Yellow, inspired by her own background of fleeing war as a child and spending her adolescence in Texas. While readers might find deciphering Hằng's diacritical-laden Vietnamese syllables a challenge, LeeRoy's ability to understand Hằng bodes well for their evolving communication. As LeeRoy and Hằng grow from wary strangers to possible soulmates, Lại suffuses the unlikely relationship with gentle humor, yet remains unblinkingly candid about Hằng's left-behind experiences. Dedicated "In memory of the thousands of refugees at the bottom of the sea," Lại personalizes history with compelling characters, lively interactions and engrossing storytelling. --Terry Hong, Smithsonian BookDragon