"They stepped on people's throats with all their might and asked why the people couldn't breathe." That's just one of the many lines from The Prophets, a novel set in the antebellum South, that will jolt readers awake to contemplate the horrendous legacies of the past.

This dazzling debut from Robert Jones, Jr., creator of the social justice community The Son of Baldwin, is as captivating as it is brutal. There are passages that will make readers cringe in horror, it's true, but one can do no less when looking back at the monstrous period of American slavery. There are also scenes of immense beauty that inspire awe for the strength of the human spirit.

At its heart, The Prophets is a story of love--romantic love--between two young, enslaved men, Samuel and Isaiah, and a society that would not allow them joy. "They thought we was something dirty, but it won't nothing like that at all," remarks one of the lovers. Each chapter is named after a book of the Bible and invites examination of those ancient religious stories through the perspective of American history.

The Prophets is a stark reminder of a horrific past, but also looks to the future with hope. Jones shapes the narrative with a deft and evocative lyricism and introduces characters that are multi-layered and pulsing with human vulnerability. That is sure to guarantee The Prophets a place among the literary greats. --Grace Rajendran, freelance reviewer and literary events producer

"The night we left Ellen on the road, we were driving north up 252 near where it meets 202 and then crosses the Pennsylvania Turnpike." Una Mannion's debut novel opens with this unsettling event, setting the stage for a coming-of-age story infused with a desperate tension and threat of vengeance that amplify its emotional wallops. A Crooked Tree is poignantly narrated by 12-year-old Ellen's older sister Libby, 15, full of normal teen angst while also struggling with her father's death, her mother's neglect and her oldest sibling Marie's impending departure for New York.

After being forced out of the family car by her angry mother, Ellen shows up bloodied and shell-shocked at the home where Libby is babysitting. She reports jumping from the car of a disturbing man with waist-length white hair and long fingernails, having asked him for a ride up Valley Forge Mountain. Fearful of being separated if authorities discover how they live, Libby tells only Marie. But three people knowing a secret is two too many, and soon the man they dub "Barbie Man" has reason to return for revenge.

As the plot swirls towards a showdown, Mannion deftly weaves the varied plot threads into a magnificent whole. Like the crooked tree near the fort built with her best friend, Libby's mettle is bent and tested by forces spinning out of control as she tries to keep her family safe. A tale of trust, friendship and valor set against a backdrop of wicked apprehension, Mannion's work is spectacularly accomplished. --Lauren O'Brien of Malcolm Avenue Review

Matthew Dicks (Twenty-One Truths About Love) captures the yearning and uncertainty of youth in this reflective coming-of-age story about a teenager who believes a stranger has replaced his mother.  

Fourteen-year-old Michael Parsons is drowning in secrets, like his crush on pretty, popular next-door neighbor Sarah. But the biggest secret, hidden in a yellow envelope under his mattress, belonged to his father. Even if he wanted to show it to his mother, she's gone. An impossibly identical imposter with the "same curly brown hair with a little streak of gray on the side.... Same blotchy freckle on the back of her left hand" has taken her place. Only Michael notices the change, and he knows no one will believe him. This other mother's appearance is too convincing. He can only muddle on as though life were normal, even though normalcy died with his father three years ago. Since then, Michael can't stop filling up and exploding with anger despite his guidance counselor's help. As he and Sarah embark on a friendship he never expected, Michael discovers the power of empathy and the solace of trusting others. When Sarah doesn't believe his imposter theory, Michael knows he has to find out what happened to his real mother before she's gone forever.

Based on a real condition that causes the sufferer to believe a loved one is an imposter, The Other Mother celebrates the healing magic of friendship and reclaiming one's self. Told in Michael's wry, often anxious voice, this quietly triumphant feel-good novel addresses the burden of grief, the complications of family and the mysteries of first love. --Jaclyn Fulwood, blogger at Infinite Reads

A murdered, self-taught archeologist dentist, a National Park ranger, a disillusioned German dermatologist, an assassin named Scissors, two hapless brothers (one "tall and thin and off-kilter," the other resembling a "burnt stump"), a Japanese video game designer, a Princeton doctoral candidate, a conspiracy theorist recluse, sister wives and numerous other intriguing characters converge near Bryce Canyon National Park in Picnic in the Ruins, Todd Robert Petersen's darkly comic, madcap thriller with overarching social themes.

When artifact collector Bruce Cluff is killed, several maps are stolen from his home. What the maps show and who wants them is the greater plot arc, supported by a series of underlying threads that add to the mystery and lunacy. Sophia Shepard is researching her thesis on the ethics of preserving ancient artifacts ("One person's artifact is another person's ancestor"). Tourist Reinhardt Kupfer, disillusioned with the U.S. and his tour group, departs on his own "quest." Paul Thrift, park ranger and Sophia's semi-romantic friend, takes her on an outing to one of the secret map locations where she learns things she doesn't want to know. Not long after, they find themselves in a shootout and on the run with Reinhardt.

Unsurprisingly, Petersen (Rift) teaches creative writing and screen studies at Southern Utah University. Picnic is wildly creative and easily envisioned. The cultural appropriation and preservation lessons are thick, but they come by an honest need to avoid being engulfed by the blackly humorous, action-packed adventure. This fun caper stands up to some needed mindfulness. --Lauren O'Brien of Malcolm Avenue Review

People Like Her, a domestic thriller by husband-and-wife writing team Collette Lyons and Paul Vlitos (under the pseudonym Ellery Lloyd), is a devilishly smart look at the competitive world of Instagram influencing. Emmy Jackson might have left her career as a fashion editor behind when she had children, but motherhood gave her a new, expanding career as an Insta-mum. With an agent, a new assistant and a growing, rabid fanbase, Emmy's professional future looks bright, but her novelist husband, Dan, is tired of Emmy's success and desperate for a breakthrough of his own. A mysterious stalker begins to orbit closer to Emmy and Dan, and it isn't just the cracks in the foundation of their marriage that might ultimately bring down their house.

Even with a slew of domestic thrillers crowding bookshelves, People Like Her stands out with its impeccable character development, sinister twists and razor-sharp cultural commentary. The book splits into three perspectives--Emmy, Dan and their unnamed stalker--and balances precariously between the push and pull of three insatiable personalities. The menacing stalker is the most overt threat and keeps the novel's tension running high, but Emmy and Dan's ever-escalating attempts to win readers' sympathies ultimately steal the show. By introducing the stalker's perspective early on, the novel distracts its readers by inviting them to anticipate when this malevolent force will break onto the scene. Even with constant vigilance, or perhaps because of it, readers won't be able to see every twist coming. And the twists themselves are sure to induce nightmares. --Alice Martin, freelance writer and editor

While many long-running series follow their detectives as they grow old, Arthur Bryant and John May have been complicated older men for as long as readers have known them, and that's far from the only unusual characteristic of Bryant in particular, whose methods border on the metaphysical. Oranges and Lemons, the 17th volume in the Peculiar Crimes Unit series by Christopher Fowler, has everything fans have come to expect. It's pure joy to suspend disbelief to follow the team of quirky characters through the intricate, gloriously improbable plot, set in a vivid modern-day London.

A politician is nearly killed by a falling pile of fruit crates, and in his usual style, Bryant brings in a professional magician to prove it was an attempt at murder. When another prominent Londoner is stabbed in broad daylight by an assailant who scatters five farthings at the scene, the race is on to stop a series of killings that seem to be connected by an old rhyme (the "oranges and lemons" of the title).

The 17th volume in a series is generally not the ideal starting point for new readers, but the characters are so clearly drawn and the plot so intriguing that it can stand on its own; the references to other cases and stories may be less an annoyance and more an inspiration to go back and read the earlier volumes. --Linda Lombardi, writer and editor

The title alone is a universally resounding cry for help: I Just Wanted to Save My Family. It also proves to be French legal expert and first-time author Stéphan Pélissier's best defense to challenge a guilty verdict that demands seven years of imprisonment.

Pélissier and his wife, Zena, a Syrian immigrant pursuing her Ph.D. in penal law, meet on a dating site in April 2011. After an initial (almost comical) misunderstanding about commitment and other women, the pair share an idyllic courtship, discussing marriage after only six months. The Syrian war prevents both families from being present at the couple's French wedding, and the violence continues to escalate in the ensuing years. France is the logical destination for the relocation of Zena's family, but they are inexplicably denied asylum. Relying on illegal migration networks becomes the only alternative for escape. Parents Saif and Wafaa, sister Mayada and brother Anas--with the last-minute addition of cousin Samer--abandon Syria in the summer of 2015, resolved to reach France. Their perilous odyssey is interrupted in Greece, where the potentially fatal threat of crossing into Italy is so great that Pélissier travels to Athens determined to secure a legal ferry crossing for his extended in-laws. His brave intentions land the entire group in Greek prison, with Pélissier charged by the Greek government with human trafficking, sparking a labyrinthine, four-year journey for justice.

Co-written with Cécile-Agnès Champart and translated by the prodigious and award-winning Adriana Hunter, Pélissier's earnest memoir provides testimony to resilience, justice and, most of all, the unbreakable bonds of familial love. --Terry Hong, Smithsonian BookDragon

With simple strategies based on expert advice and cultural observations, Niksen: Embracing the Dutch Art of Doing Nothing by Olga Mecking encourages taking breaks.

Niksen--Dutch for nothing-ing--is what Mecking, a decade-long resident of the Netherlands, has pinpointed as key to the country's high happiness ranking. "With a generous social support system, short workweeks, and a lot of time off, this country is almost a niksen paradise," she explains. This allowance for downtime, she notes, provides ample benefits: increased clarity, creativity, productivity and effectiveness. Other countries could adopt this model if they overcame a critical obstacle: the compulsion to stay busy. "Busyness has now become the ultimate status symbol" because a person has visible value when they are seen working. Particularly for women, the expectation that they constantly plan or spend leisure time on self-care means doing nothing never happens. But by reevaluating goals and habits, resisting societal pressures to overperform and accepting help, individuals can introduce short yet meaningful periods for niksen.

Citing experts in psychology, happiness, boredom, stress and productivity, as well as providing appendix material with additional resources and an extensive bibliography, Mecking outlines why and how to take true breaks. She proposes niksen to augment one's lifestyle, chiding wellness trends that require intense time commitments or demand self-improvement. By differentiating niksen from mindfulness and rumination, she elucidates how uncommon restful moments have become. Yet she expresses hope that, beginning with the individual, society can follow these clear and effective steps to managing stress, living healthier and increasing happiness. --Samantha Zaboski, freelance editor and reviewer

In Moose, Goose, and Mouse's back-of-book note, Jeff Mack says that his friend Mordicai Gerstein, who died in 2019, "wrote in just about every genre of children's literature." Actually, Gerstein's final work falls into a marvelous category all its own: animal-centered runaway-train stories powered by rhymes and loopiness.

One rainy day, the eponymous animals have had it with their cold, moldy, leaky old house. "I want a house that's sunny," says Mouse. "I want a house that's funny!" says Moose. "I want one with a bunny," says Goose. So they hop aboard a train and set off in search of a new home that fits the bill. When the rope tethering the engine to the caboose, which the friends are riding in, snaps, the car goes cannonballing, ultimately colliding with a tree and flipping over. The upshot? Moose, Goose and Mouse find themselves in the sun with a "loose caboose for a house" ("SUNNY, FUNNY") while a floppy-eared new friend ("BUNNY!") looks on.

When his health was declining, Gerstein (The Fisherman & the Whale) asked Mack (Ah Ha!) to collaborate on the book's art, and they forged a dynamic style that seems to have been spun from a toddler's funny bone. Each protagonist--all-legs-and-antlers green Moose, noodle-necked blue Goose and whirligig-tailed magenta Mouse--exerts a distinct visual pull. As Moose, Goose, and Mouse reaches its final destination, it carries the message that problems can be solved and that friendship--including Gerstein and Mack's--can lead somewhere beautiful. --Nell Beram, freelance writer and YA author

Into the Heartless Wood is an intense and haunting fairy tale tinged with horror, romance and magic, and filled with beautiful imagery of nature and love.

The Gwydden's Wood is ruled by a witch who uses her eight tree-siren daughters as weapons, "commanding them to sing, to lure men and women into the wood and devour them." Seventeen-year-old Owen and his sister stumble to the precipice of this fate, but are saved by the Gwydden's youngest daughter, Seren. After his rescue, Owen--intrigued by the "monster" who defies her purpose of being--visits Seren in the forest every night. Their forbidden friendship blossoms into romance, and Seren's desire to "be more than the monster [her] mother created" grows. When secrets and an ancient curse drive Owen and Seren apart, they find themselves on opposite sides of a centuries-old feud and must find a way to break the curse to free themselves.

This fourth YA novel by Joanna Ruth Meyer (Echo North) is gorgeously written, deeply intense and emotionally fulfilling. Owen's and Seren's story is portrayed vividly through a series of moments of euphoria and heartbreak. Whether it's a scene of them dancing on a hilltop until dawn or a tree-siren-caused train derailment, Meyer uses poetic language and imagery to ratchet up the intensity. Meyer also uses a blend of prose (Owen) and verse (Seren) to parallel Seren's transformation. As Seren becomes more humanlike, her short lines and simple sentences become more complex. This all creates an atmospheric fairy tale that is bewitching and unforgettable. --Lana Barnes, freelance reviewer and proofreader