Imagine reading a thriller and suddenly realizing the much-hated main character is you. And the disclaimer about resemblances to real people being coincidental has been crossed out. This is the premise of first-time novelist Renée Knight's Disclaimer.

Catherine Ravenscroft, a documentary filmmaker in London, finds a book on her nightstand one evening and starts reading it. With horror, she recognizes the story is about her and something that happened 20 years ago, a terrible incident no one--including her husband--is supposed to know about.

Catherine doesn't recall buying the book or how it ended up on her nightstand. It's published under a pseudonym by Rhamnousia, a self-publishing entity named for the goddess of revenge. As Catherine investigates the book's origins and author, her dark secret threatens to surface and shatter her family and life.

Disclaimer alternates between Catherine's point of view, written in third person, and the first-person point of view of the man who's tormenting her with the book. This creates an unsettling experience, as if readers are asked to side with the person who stalks Catherine and wreaks havoc on her. It also keeps Catherine mysterious, making it unclear why she doesn't work harder to defend herself.

But Knight's technique pays off, and the ending delivers more than one emotional wallop. Readers' feelings about each character will likely be upended as they're reminded that sometimes people commit atrocious acts out of love, and those who behave abhorrently can also be honorable. --Elyse Dinh-McCrillis, blogger at Pop Culture Nerd

Flame-haired, vintage clothing-loving Delia Moss is having a rough time. The same night she proposes to her longtime, live-in boyfriend, Paul, she learns the devastating news that he's having an affair. Although she's in her 30s, Delia reluctantly moves home to Newcastle with her introverted parents to escape the situation. Now she's gumming up at her dead-end job, and she misses her dog.

Mhairi McFarlane (You Had Me at Hello) creates a charming story. Delia is an unassuming and endearing heroine, who's kind to her overweight, video-game obsessed brother, and struggles valiantly to do the right thing. Readers will root for her to find happiness despite the obstacles McFarlane keeps tossing in her way. An impulsive move to London lands Delia a new job and a new boss with a big secret. A mysterious reporter begins blackmailing Delia with information that could get her fired, forcing her to call on reserves of courage and cleverness she didn't know she possessed. Worst of all, she comes face to face with the woman with whom Paul was cheating. Meanwhile, Paul is moving hell and high water to win back a conflicted Delia.

This phenomenal book draws you in immediately and doesn't let go as the drama moves from Newcastle to London and back again. Besides the wonderfully descriptive details and appealing characters she's crafted, McFarlane fashions an unpredictable comedy that ensures readers will enjoy Delia's triumphs and failures every step of her engrossing journey. --Natalie Papailiou, Author of blog MILF: Mother I'd Like to Friend

In Watchlist's introduction, editor Bryan Hurt describes the tender surveillance of his newborn son on the family's high-tech baby monitor, and from that anecdote, it's clear that the anthology bears more in common with daily life than the spy thriller its name might evoke. In this diverse and daring fiction collection, writers of all stripes deal with the act of watching and being watched, subverting and challenging surveillance's obvious connotations and raising questions about our intricate dance with privacy and transparency.

The collection's bare-bones theme works in its favor; Hurt mentions that he gave few rules or guidelines, and the result is a series of pieces that speak to each other in novel, unexpected ways. Cory Doctorow's "Scroogled" gives an unsurprising nod to Google, our current Information Overlord, but also manages humor and warmth, exploring two friends' relationship and the government's ineptitude at organizing the information it gathers. Alexis Landau's account of a young mother who miscarries explores neighbors and the strange comfort of daily interactions with the cashier at a corner store. Often, the ways in which people are inherently unknowable serve as the center of these stories, as with Sean Bernard's excellent "California," where neighbors meet to watch mysterious, voyeuristic footage of a TV host's private life.

Certain pieces have more polish than others--in any anthology, there are standouts--but on the whole, the collection is an enjoyable, provocative treatment of a timely topic. Watchlist encompasses a wide swath of voices and ideas, and in doing so, does justice to a subject that's equally multi-faceted. --Linnie Greene, freelance writer

When one child goes missing on the Falkland Islands, both police and locals chalk it up to the dangerous environment and many island cliffs. When a second--and then a third--disappear, it's impossible for the locals not to suspect that something more dangerous than cliffs and rocks is afoot. But how does a town as small and remote as Stanley cope with such a terrible possibility? And what other secrets lie hidden across the islands?

Sharon Bolton (Sacrifice, Now You See Me) unfolds the events of Little Black Lies in three parts: first through the eyes of Catrin, a woman mourning the death of her two sons in a freak accident; then Callum, a soldier in the Falklands War suffering from PTSD; and finally Rachel, Catrin's once-best friend and the woman responsible for the death of Catrin's sons. The shifting perspectives are clear and intentional, and reveal three characters pushed to the edges of any reasonable limitations by grief and fear and guilt. The three narratives weave together against the harsh and starkly beautiful landscape of the Falklands, resulting in a novel that is as brutal as it is startling.

Bolton's skills as a writer of mysteries are on full display in Little Black Lies: she has brought to life the distinctive character of an isolated place; built interesting, multi-layered characters; and paced the revelations of each characters so perfectly as to keep readers always guessing. --Kerry McHugh, blogger at Entomology of a Bookworm

Lunch with a Bigot is a collection of essays by journalist and Vassar professor Amitava Kumar (A Matter of Rats), written and published over more than a decade. The book is divided into four sections: reading, writing, places and people. In practice, these themes flow into each other and echo across the divisions. Kumar is an artful, frank and clean-cut writer, with a compassionate curious mind and a dry sense of humor. He includes his personal responses in his journalism and maintains his questioning skepticism even in his most emotional essays.

Kumar negotiates an expatriate's life between India and the U.S., between English and Hindi. In many of his essays, he explores what it means to be an Indian writer in the modern literary world: "All too often our writing is an act of translation on behalf of the West." Kumar reflects on fatherhood and its effects on his writing. He considers V.S. Naipaul, the Boston Marathon bombings, trains, Kashmir, literary festivals, his marriage to a Muslim and the death of his mother. He writes about the poet Aqeel Shatir and interviews author Arundhati Roy, both committed political activists. The title essay tells of his meeting with a right-wing Hindu activist who put Kumar on an Internet hit list, a member of "a fringe element that gives a dangerous edge to an increasingly powerful and mainstream ideology in the subcontinent." But Kumar also finds common ground. "What Mr. Barotia and I share in some deep way is the language of memory--that well from which we have drawn, like water, our collective stories." --Sara Catterall

With an ingratiating style very similar to David Sedaris, performance artist David Crabb's Bad Kid has the ability to describe horrifying events and make them both hilarious and touching. Growing up gay in the early 1990s in San Antonio, Tex., was tough, but Crabb honed his navigation skills and found acceptance among a high school subset of drug-fueled goth kids.

Crabb begins his first day of high school believing he can keep his gayness undercover, but, "By the time fifth-period gym class rolled around, I had never been more sure I was gay," writes Crabb after surreptitiously observing the hyper-masculine junior and senior boys. Gym class is perilous ("Don't look down, don't look down...," he warns himself in the locker room) but it's also where he meets his first friend, Greg.

With Greg by his side, Crabb's circle of friends expands to goth kids who experiment with all forms of getting high. They start with marijuana, ecstasy and tabs of acid, and progress to huffing VCR head cleaner fluid and drinking freon engine coolant from cars. While Crabb tries to figure out if Greg is interested in him romantically, he meets a towering skinhead named Max who professes to be straight but is very tactile. These new friends are "brash, flighty, messy kids" but even when they're reckless and destructive, they're building a support system for each other. The group's drunken misadventures and search for love, thrills and acceptance is not a cautionary tale but an ode to friendships and finding your place in the world. --Kevin Howell, independent reviewer and marketing consultant

In 2005, Lt. Colonel Bill Russell Edmonds spent a year embedded with an Iraqi army unit in the city of Mosul. As an American Special Forces adviser, he oversaw interrogations of newly captured suspected insurgents. Initially, Edmonds could neither speak Arabic nor directly command his Iraqi counterparts, forcing him to rely on translators and the patient guidance of an Iraqi intelligence officer to carry out his mission. That mission became a frustrating moral test as Edmonds was frequently required to prevent the Iraqis from treating their prisoners too harshly, which sometimes allowed murderers and rapists back on the street thanks to a lack of confessions. A mix of monotony, malaise, muddied morals and a disintegrating long-distance relationship festered into a silent, psychic wound.

In 2011, while living with his wife and daughters in Germany, Edmonds's latent PTSD became a full-blown psychiatric crisis. Over the course of 30 days, he developed manic symptoms, delusional thoughts and insomnia, which finally drove him to seek help from the army's mental health services. He was turned away for not meeting the treatment threshold. Luckily, Edmonds found a therapeutic outlet by writing about his wartime experiences.

God Is Not Here: A Soldier's Struggle with Torture, Trauma, and the Moral Injuries of War alternates between eloquently introspective, journal-like accounts of Edmonds's time in Iraq and disturbing snapshots of his 2011 breakdown. The result is a haunting and beautifully written plunge through the moral morass of the American occupation of Iraq and its grave toll on veterans. God Is Not Here is a military memoir not to be missed. --Tobias Mutter, freelance reviewer

In Joan of Arc, historian Helen Castor returns to the subject of powerful medieval women that she explored so successfully in She Wolves.

The story of the Maid of Orleans is well-trodden ground: the Library of Congress has more than 1,400 books related to the topic in its collection. Castor brings a new twist to familiar accounts, signaled in the use of "a history" rather than "a biography" as a subtitle. Instead of starting with Joan, she begins with the turbulent history of 15th century France, placing Joan's achievements within the context of the bloody civil war that began with the assassination of Louis, Duke of Orleans, at the instigation of his brother, the Duke of Burgundy, in 1407.

Castor takes the reader step-by-step through the labyrinthine saga of a France divided between Burgundians, the supporters of the French royal family, and the opportunistic claims of England's Henry V to the French crown. Joan appears in the narrative one-third of the way through, when all hope of the French dauphin claiming his throne seems lost. Even after Joan emerges, though, Castor never loses sight of the larger picture, placing her within the context of previous French visionaries, French and English political courts and the realities of 15th century warfare.

Written with both scholarly rigor and the narrative tension of a historical thriller, Castor's Joan of Arc makes the story of St. Joan more understandable, more complex and more extraordinary. --Pamela Toler, blogging at History in the Margins

Firmin DeBrabander begs to differ with gun rights organizations in the United States who insist that the Second Amendment--"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed"--is "the 'teeth in the Bill of Rights,' providing the force that protects and preserves all other rights." In his first book, he takes a philosophical approach and delves into the justification offered by groups such as the National Rifle Association to make a strong case for why guns do not, in fact, make Americans free.

Citing philosophers--many of whom the NRA also uses to support their cause--such as John Locke, Machiavelli and Thomas Jefferson, DeBrabander illustrates flaws of logic expressed in the gun rights movement. His dissection of their writings and beliefs is presented in an easily accessible manner, which emphasizes how the proliferation of firearms threatens democracy and oppresses its citizens. He adds statistics and studies to counter arguments such as guns are the equalizer between the sexes and Stand Your Ground laws provide deterrence to crime. He then goes on to assert that these actions and policies encourage the environments for which they purport people need guns.

Though clearly in favor of stronger gun regulations, DeBrabander also points out that the underlying issues of crime must be addressed; removal and strict regulations of firearms alone will not solve the problem.

DeBrabander's examination of this complicated issue is fastidious and well supported with a plethora of reliable sources. With any luck, Do Guns Make Us Free? will spark vital dialogue. --Jen Forbus of Jen's Book Thoughts

Like its author, Healthy Brain, Happy Life is impossible to pigeonhole. On one level, this is a delightful heroine's journey to self-acceptance. However, the heroine is a highly acclaimed neuroscientist, so on an equally enjoyable level this is a compelling treatise on how the brain functions under the influence of exercise, nutrition, social connections, service to others and meditation.

Wendy Suzuki begins with, "One day I woke up and realized I didn't have a life. As an almost-forty-year-old award-winning, world-renowned neuroscientist.... I was really good at engaging with science and advancing my career, but it seemed that I was really bad at living." So she decided to conduct an experiment on herself, applying all she knew about neuroscience, and the results were life altering. Since she was about 20 pounds overweight, she began with an exercise regimen that incorporated verbal affirmations (called intenSati). Soon she became a trained instructor and incorporated the routines into her "Can Exercise Change Your Brain?" class, studying the effects of exercise on memory and retention. Suzuki ends her experiment with meditation--which is not nearly as easy for her Type A personality as aerobic exercise.

Healthy Brain, Happy Life is not only an inspirational memoir about the rejuvenation of one individual, but a fascinating study into how lifestyle affects the brain (which affects our disposition and overall sense of wellness), as well as a concrete how-to book filled with four minute "Brain Hacks" designed to help readers restore energy, boost mood and improve thinking. --Kristen Galles from Book Club Classics

Robyn Schneider (The Beginning of Everything) fills this absorbing novel about second chances with hilarity and heart.

Latham House is a sanatorium for those diagnosed with incurable tuberculosis. Patients wear sensors to monitor their temperatures, heart rates and sleep cycles. Seventeen-year-old Lane Rosen is the new kid at Latham, desperately hoping for a miracle so he can return to his scholarly life and his girlfriend. Sadie Bennett--who's been at Latham for more than a year--initially isn't pleased when Lane arrives because of a past misunderstanding during summer camp when they were 13. But she soon welcomes him into her gang of friends--who cause mischief inside and outside of class--and Lane and Sadie inch toward an intimate relationship. But the greatest development for all may be a new antibiotic on the way that promises a cure for their strain of tuberculosis--but six weeks may be too long for some.

Schneider's lead characters alternate as narrators of this affecting story, their voices made distinct by Lane's ambitions and frustrations and by Sadie's artistic observations and pop culture references. Poignantly, Sadie fears the cure because Latham makes her feel special, a place where she's loved by friends and Lane. She worries the protocillin will return her to the "dreary, unappealing life" she left behind. Lane, on the other hand, is optimistic for both of their futures outside of Latham.

The book barrels to an ending that is emotional yet hopeful. This moving novel may appeal to fans of Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. --Adam Silvera, reviewer and former children's bookseller

With welcoming illustrations, Tor Freeman (Olive and the Big Secret) opens Turtle and Me with a pregnant mother hanging pictures and creating a loving space for her soon-to-be-born child. Robie H. Harris (Mail Harry to the Moon) celebrates the stories that our families tell us and the importance of that first inseparable stuffed animal or blankie.

This reassuring picture book is told from the child's viewpoint and shares his impressions about growing up--some of which were stories told to him: "I met Turtle on the day I was born," says the boy. As Freeman depicts the child growing larger in relation to Turtle, Harris zeroes in on what happens between them, such as messes, rips, holes (even vomit), and that point when, perhaps, a friend challenges the child to give up this beloved object. Harris delves into the developmentally appropriate purpose for a transitional object (to help ease confusion, loneliness and fear for young ones), as well as the love between the narrator and Turtle, crafting a story full of wonderful words and comforting language. "But as soon as I snuggled up with my soft and cuddly Turtle, I didn't feel lonely or sad anymore," the boy says.

Familiar childhood scenes allow readers to see themselves: eating birthday cake, playing at the park (and leaving Turtle behind) and being sick in bed. The narrator grows up, little by little, often with a hand or eye on Turtle, slowly growing beyond him--but not too fast. --Mollie Welsh Kruger, graduate faculty, Bank Street College of Education

Toni Buzzeo (One Cool Friend) and Jim Datz (How to Find Old New York) make an entertaining guessing game out of the tools of various trades, starring a diverse cast of professionals as they construct a house.

A googly-eyed chalk line maker, chisel, jointer and float provide hints to the mason's job, revealed with the opening of a gatefold. "I smooth the cement until it's flat," says a fellow in overalls, demonstrating the float's role, as another carries bricks on a board. Datz makes sure all tools are visible in their context. The carpenters come next, with "level, square, saw and hammer." Buzzeo always includes one or two familiar tools so even youngest readers can get their bearings. Roofers use a ladder, for instance (along with a nail gun, snips and utility knife); electricians use a screwdriver and drill (along with a wire stripper and linesman pliers). Plumbers and painters also appear, and Buzzeo and Datz cleverly bring the action back to young readers (building with blocks). Thick cardboard pages ensure that the board book will stand up to repeated readings. The back cover showcases all 24 tools in vertical rows, in order of appearance, for easy reference.

Datz highlights men and women with a range of skin tones, and wearing the proper protective gear (helmets for the roofers, coveralls for the painters). Happily, Buzzeo and Datz will return in the fall with Whose Truck? --Jennifer M. Brown, children's editor, Shelf Awareness