Fitting for a story of legendary creatures and nightscapes where it feels like something eerie may happen, the authors take a mythic, somewhat fabulistic approach, emphasizing the girls’ smallness and the vastness of skies, mountains, and the NOLOs themselves. Jake’s fearsome-yet-cuddly appearance helps maintain tension and mystery for some pages, as the authors cue readers to wonder whether he’s fiend or foe, and the illustrations emphasize, with striking composition, the sheer impossible scale of him. The suspense ebbs, in the second half, building to a sweet, upbeat resolution that will most please younger readers—those who favor the earlier, gently spooky feel may find the climax underwhelming. A guide to other NOLO species, though, in the final pages is good monster fun.
Astute readers may also notice some inconsistent plot elements involving an injury and Jake’s daily grooming and eating habits. But there’s much to love in the engaging, evocative art, depicting monsters, mountains, night skies, and the horizon-wide head of a NOLO peering over a hilltop at tiny humans, an image of significant imaginative power.
Takeaway: A monster saves lost campers in this mythic, gorgeous adventure.
Comparable Titles: Chris Wormell’s The Sea Monster, Sue Ganz-Schmitt’s The Monster on the Block.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-
Alcibiades, Mon Amour shares with Maxwell’s other pointedly unpredictable novels (like Rafael Jerome) confident and nimble prose, themes of self discovery and intellectual longing, incisive exploration of sexual mores and American culture, an ethos of formal daring and surprise, and a smart blending of humanity and tension. What begins as the story of one obsession unravels into many, charting the complex boundaries between bodies and minds. At the novel’s heart is Plato’s Symposium, whose chorus of voices rings through the pages. Readers familiar with Greek philosophy—and how young people’s encounters with it can be transformative—will delight in this contemporary exploration, while readers fascinated by contemporary minds facing the past will find these explorations of love, sex, mentorship, and more electric.
Together, Alan and Alcibiades explore urgent questions: “Wouldn’t it be nice if wisdom could flow into fools simply by the act of touching?” For both, though, touch—and wisdom—may be all too dangerous. Culminating in personal reckonings with marriage, queerness, and the search for knowledge, Alcibiades, Mon Amour is a fast-paced drama that will both startle and satisfy.
Takeaway: Smart, time-crossed novel of a student, a professor, ancient Greece, and obsession.
Comparable Titles: Michelle Hart’s We Do What We Do in the Dark, Susan Choi’s My Education.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
The feeling is warm and congenial as Guest shares stories of a young group teetering on the edge of stardom, trying to balance personal lives and professional ambitions, all with vivid memories of mid-century Atlanta and Motown-era Detroit, great performers like Jackie Wilson, Sam Cooke, and BB King (who gave the Pips prime performance slots at concerts because they weren’t “show spoilers”), shifting styles from gospel to disco, and show-business triumphs and setbacks.
The history, covering both the art and business of music, will fascinate fans. Once formed, Gladys Knight and the Pips knew they needed a record label to offer distributions and a route to get their songs on radio. Their first recording came under the auspices of testing audio equipment in the club owned by Clifford Hunter, where the band had a regular gig. To their surprise, Hunter pressed records without so much as telling the band. “No one was making money,” Guest laments, but that “started the fire that jump-started our career.” Duplicitous record labels are a recurring theme—the group would sue Motown for unpaid royalties—as Guest bears personal witness to personnel changes, health and legal troubles, dangerous road encounters, the thrill of the group’s 1970s successes, and above all the joy and challenges of creation and commerce with family. Love of music, God, and family shines throughout.
Takeaway: Fascinating life of a founding member of Gladys Knight & the Pips.
Comparable Titles: Gladys Knight’s Between Each Line of Pain and Glory, Alan Leeds’s There Was a Time.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B
Marketing copy: A-
The first two stages of the “journey” Simpsons lays out focus on internal reflection. Readers are introduced to tools like meditation and affirmations to help identify and navigate limiting beliefs. Simpson simplifies these concepts through relatable anecdotes, and she writes in an engaging, conversational tone (“Change often feels daunting, like standing at the base of a huge mountain with it looming over you”), creating the atmosphere of a therapeutic dialogue. Relevant and important questions stud each chapter, nudging the reader to navigate tangled emotions and realign their value compass. At its heart, Breathe’s prompts create a space for deep introspection, led by a coach who understands the challenge of facing internal struggles with clarity and confidence.
The latter two stages shift the focus outward, exploring relationships with friends, family, and the broader community. Simpson guides readers on setting boundaries and cultivating gratitude through reflective, thought-provoking exercises. The interactive format (questions, fill-ins, checkboxes, lists, and visual tools) sets Simpson’s approach apart, blending a soothing workbook approach with more traditional self-help. QR codes and links are provided to assist readers who may need further clarification.
Takeaway: Interactive guidebook to facing internal struggles with confidence and self-compassion.
Comparable Titles: Elaine Beaumont and Chris Irons’s The Compassionate Mind Workbook, Alexandra H. Solomon’s Love Every Day.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
As he explores the deep-rooted nature of human tendencies like insecurity, “the distorted imitations that trap us and put words in our mouth,” and the need for affirmation, Replogle breaks down instances where Jesus faced such challenges within the inner circle, and even with Mary herself. Replogle highlights thinkers like C. S. Lewis, T.S. Eliot, and many others on the nature of offense, digging into the very nature of the term and questions of biblical translation—especially revealing is how, in ancient Greek, offense is rooted in a term for stone or obstacle, with translators seeing in “stumbling over a hidden obstacle the similar experience of stumbling over an offense.”
That gets to the heart of this depiction of a Jesus who caused offense in a compassionate way, to elicit change. Replogle makes the case that everyone can benefit from exploring the sources of their offended feelings—and can find revelation and healing in the process.
Takeaway: Encouraging guide to Jesus’s compassionate use of offense to spur change.
Comparable Titles: Kevin DeYoung’s The Hole in Our Holiness, Anita McCall's Overcoming the Spirit of Offense.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Complicating an already fraught situation, Renna is visited in dreams by Sethos, a beautiful fae who reveals himself to be her protector and guardian. Her attraction and connection to both Sethos and Khellios leaves her conflicted. In a galaxy of chaos and fear, where Renna feels “like a prisoner in my own body when I cannot wield my magic in times of fear or any other emotion,” the hero’s fight to survive and discover her place comes spiced with love, sex, and the complexities of the heart.
Bower has crafted both engaging characters it’s easy to feel for and fresh but resonantly familiar worlds, societies, and political situations for them to navigate. The storylines move at a brisk pace and aren't bogged down by the somewhat complex worldbuilding. Instead, the tale, like Renna’s magic, is driven by great swells of feeling. The hopes and losses of this cast, good and evil, compel and surprise, right up to climactic revelations and cliffhangers that will have romantasy fans eager for more.
Takeaway: Rousing romantasy debut of a grad student, a god, and the magic burning inside.
Comparable Titles: Meredith Mooring’s Redsight, Alexis Menard’s Order and Chaos series.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
City at My Feet is conceptually riveting, built on an intensely creative world that still harbors remnants of contemporary life. New York as we know it, termed the “Land Below” here, is considered “primitive” and houses those humans beset by greed, corruption, and an overdependence on fossil fuels—leading them to a conflictual relationship with “Kahèsëna Hàki”—Mother Earth. The Lenape people, on the other hand, maintain a synergy with the land, bolstered by their impressive technology that includes bioengineered weapons and animals, referred to as “mech-predators” in the forest near Sakima’s home.
Sakima’s commitment to achieving warrior status drives her character and her quest, leading her to the Land Below and a host of run-ins with colorful characters. She undergoes her own share of trials on her path, many of which are instituted by Machto and his endless desire to conquer her spirit—and he comes dangerously close to winning that battle. It’s clear that More has a deep respect for the Lenape and Indigenous peoples of America, though underdeveloped characters and stiff prose get in the way of the story’s appeal. Still, this is an intriguing take on a hero’s journey, and Sakima’s motto—“why live, if you can’t be who you were meant to be”—rings true.
Takeaway: Futuristic Indigenous warrior seeks to prove herself in this multiverse adventure.
Comparable Titles: Christoffer V. Junros’s Origin Andromeda, Jessica Lee Sheppard’s Descending Into Darkness.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Croft’s novel is rich in imagery and history, clearly bolstered by her own research into the era, and historical fiction fans will relish following Renna’s compelling life. The power of “scars [to] tell stories” is a recurring motif throughout the book, threading the past with the present, the known with the unknown, and when Camilla’s son, Max, Renna’s sole friend, divulges a dark secret to Renna—that the scarred girl in the asylum is her sister—it triggers a dangerous avalanche of events that put Renna, Max, and Camilla in harm’s way. As a result, Renna and co. must flee to Venice, where Camilla’s sister, Danielle, an enigmatic figure herself, takes them in.
Renna’s time in Venice, where she’s fashioned into a courtesan for the Venetian elite by Danielle, is crafted in shades of excess, wealth, and her fight to have some semblance of control over her own future, all set against the stark backdrop of an ever-changing Venice beset by its efforts to stay neutral amid Napoleon Bonaparte’s shocking victory. In the end, Renna, much like Venice, is forced into a controversial decision in her pursuit of security, highlighting Croft’s shrewd grasp of history and its treatment of women.
Takeaway: 18th century orphan girl fights for belonging in this rich historical fiction.
Comparable Titles: Alyssa Palombo’s The Assassin of Venice, Harriet Constable’s The Instrumentalist.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
The time period covered here was one of rapid change in America, especially as motion pictures came on the scene, and Steele helps capture a vanished era of magic shows and vaudeville in rich detail, showcasing stagecraft, professional jealousies, trick-theft, press accounts, and curiosities like Diabolo, the “talking” skull of Frederick Bancroft, and a Hermann performance in Sing Sing Prison. Steele has done extensive past research into the Hermann clan of magicians, particularly Adelaide Hermann, which helps her fill out this story. Much of the press coverage of the magic troupe did not cover the Black performers, making Steele’s work more difficult.
At times, Steele’s engaging narrative style may have the unintended consequence of confusing the reader about the level to which insights into people’s motivations are based in historical record and what is speculative. Steele approaches the racial dynamics of the Boomskys’ story with sensitivity and necessary directness, discussing discrimination, slurs, minstrelsy, and segregation at appropriate places. Photos and ephemera, especially reproductions of advertisements, help humanize the subjects and bring the milieu to life, while extensive endnotes, index, and recommended additional reading will edify readers eager to learn more.
Takeaway: Deeply researched, detail-rich history of Black magicians of the vaudeville era.
Comparable Titles: Peter Lamont and Jim Steinmeyer’s The Secret History of Magic, Hardin J Burlingame’s Hermann the Magician.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
The emotion ninjas remind Izzy that she is "the boss," and it’s up to her to choose how to use them. When Izzy takes charge and determines which emotion ninjas will "take a break" in this moment and which ones will come along with her on stage to help her execute her dance, she learns that certain feelings can make her perform better in different situations, while some can be a hindrance if she doesn't take control of them. Vibrant illustrations by Richard Hoit capture both the fun possibilities of teensy ninjas but also, with empathetic clarity, the sometimes uneasy feelings faced by Izzy and other kids. Every face suggests an individual inner life.
Oke brings to life fun and creative ways for parents and teachers to explore with young readers life lessons and milestones through relatable human characters and a lovable talking panda. This second entry in the Penny Panda series is a warm, welcome introduction to recognizing and regulating emotions for elementary aged children.
Takeaway: Inviting picture book on understanding and coping with big emotions.
Comparable Titles: Britney Winn Lee's The Boy with Big, Big Feelings, Janan Cain's The Way I Feel.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
To prove her point that meaningful investment in employees will trigger productive business, Hasl-Kelchner provides reams of data and case histories that illustrate why “fairness” is so important. She breaks down that term even further, outlining its many moving parts—from the need for management to be reachable to why acceptance and inclusion are so crucial for a healthy working environment—and recaps important “fairness factor[s]” throughout the book. Most eye-opening is her willingness to confront damaging workplace norms, such as microaggressions, subjective rewards, and harassment, cautioning that failure to address these norms leads to moral injury—and “compromise[es] the safety and physiological needs of employees.”
Hasl-Kelchner’s case is compelling, as are the rewards—beyond simple human connection—that come with keeping employees meaningfully engaged: it reduces costs, improves business function, and accelerates growth. She offers a five-step process to achieve that, touching on principles like accountability and trust, while reminding readers that “the ability to truly lead depends on legitimacy of power, not mere positional power… it requires emotional consent. It must be earned by demonstrating integrity.” User-friendly black and white graphics scattered throughout help bolster her advice, and she closes with a stark—but convincing—assertion that “fairness at work is the real driving force behind the financial bottom line.”
Takeaway: Eye-opening look at the factors influencing employee satisfaction.
Comparable Titles: Kim Scott’s Radical Respect, Kim Dabbs’s You Belong Here.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: A-
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
This nuanced portrayal of the two women's situations thoughtfully exposes America's flawed foster care system and the hasty child removals that often cause more harm than good to children and parents alike. Brittney struggles, touchingly, with being a mother and provider, and her ordeal intensifies when an unsympathetic neighbor, annoyed by her baby's cries, reports her to the Department of Human Services for neglect. Yearwood writes these well-crafted, all-too-human characters with deep empathy. Rebecca's childless longing is as palpable as Brittney's frustration between wanting her children back and knowing they might fare better elsewhere. The emotional toll on children is also given equal emphasis—Ethan's anger and trauma, toddler Madison's confusion, and infant Maggie's wordless expression of pain.
This isn't just a novel about motherhood—it is a searing commentary on the failures of child welfare systems, class inequality, and the extreme standards imposed on women, dismantling the cultural myth of the "perfect mother" who must balance career, household, and parenting. This incisive, heart-rending novel makes a strong case for re-evaluating the various supports extended to low-income and marginalized families, all while it celebrates female agency and women's resilience.
Takeaway: Moving story of two women, foster care, and the myth of the perfect mother.
Comparable Titles: Brit Bennett's The Mothers, Lisa Ko's The Leavers.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
With humorous asides, poignant insights, and quotes from Seth himself, readers experience firsthand Duda’s parenting strategies, from both parent and child perspectives. Her delivery is frank and honest as she explores the ups and downs of parenting a child with autism while managing her own complex post traumatic stress disorder, and Duda’s candid advice—often shaped around her experiences as a child—hits home. Some sections of the memoir, including Duda’s exploration of epigenetics and neuroplasticity, are science heavy, while others brim with raw emotion: in one particularly emotive story, Duda recounts her shame at “being blamed for [her] own victimization,” sharing how those challenging emotions drove her to stand up for Seth “whenever it was necessary.”
Parents who have struggled with their own trauma will find a wealth of usable advice in Duda’s writing, most of which centers on the importance of “mutual respect” between parent and child—and the need for open communication, even from a very young age. Seth punctuates the weighty subject matter with his own entertaining “Seth-isms” throughout, and readers will find the mother-son bond driving this memoir refreshing and uplifting.
Takeaway: Uplifting and candid memoir on parenting while coping with past trauma.
Comparable Titles: Kristina Kuzmič's I Can Fix This, Jenny Lexhed's Love Is Not Enough.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
As a survivor herself of the 1970s anti-Tamil violence in Sri Lanka, Nava’s writing is laced with vulnerability, never shying away from the raw and graphic experiences of genocide. Maya grapples with survivor’s guilt on her return home, plagued by feelings of isolation, and Nava deftly spotlights her decision to transform those feelings into raising awareness for the violence being committed against her people. In her efforts to form alliances and garner support from the U.S. government, Maya embarks on a journey of self-discovery, as she must navigate the hardships of activism and learn how to remain resilient in the face of others’ apathy.
Nava presents this piece of Sri Lankan history in an easily accessible way, striking a balance between fact and fiction as she weaves the harrowing truth of Black July and its aftermath into this emotional narrative of transformation and resilience. The novel’s quick pacing keeps its audience engaged, and readers will find themselves immersed in Maya’s journey as she learns the power of forgiveness and comes to recognize “the nature of humans [and] the nature of the world,” understanding that “she [can] not hold on to anger or disappointment. It was too destructive. It was counterproductive.”
Takeaway: Harrowing portrait of an American-Tamil woman facing Sri Lanka’s Black July.
Comparable Titles: Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner, Adania Shibli’s Minor Detail.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Cox’s spin-off of her Henrietta and Inspector Howard series offers a cozy, intimate glimpse of Melody's trials amidst economic woes, rendering a historical fiction that does not overwhelm with a broad geopolitical plot. Desperate to fix her family’s financial woes, inspiration strikes when Melody learns of her father’s prohibition-era moonshine business. Warned by Cal, the surly but handsome butcher at the Merc, she pivots to his suggestion of selling cider, hoping for a lucrative turnaround. The arrival of lodgers Frank and Julius, restorationists bent on preserving traditional craftsmanship, adds to the intrigue.
The novel shines in its palpable sense of place—from the spirited Harvest Fest to badger holes, old zinc mines, and quaint Cornish cottages. Cox favors small-town charm exploration, infused with humor and romance, with Melody's matchmaking schemes that soon become dramatic, her hanging engagement with her old beau, and her complicated moments with Cal. Melody's strong character development, humorous interludes, and the underlying themes of dreams versus familial obligations, tradition versus modernity, and community spirit compensate for the repetitive minutiae of daily store operations that occasionally drag the narrative. Though the ending is neatly tied, it hangs with a surprising romantic twist, leaving readers of lighthearted historical fiction eager for the next installment.
Takeaway:Small-town saga of matchmaking and family business during the Great Depression.
Comparable Titles: Helen Simonson's Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, Gabrielle Zevin's The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B
Marketing copy: A-
A tale of immense resilience, this novel offers a look at the lengths people will go to protect their loved ones—and how seemingly minor decisions can dramatically alter lives. When Tempest, a woman driven by childhood trauma and mental illness, drugs Curtis at a local bar and kidnaps him, Danbury reveals her motivations in chilling snapshots that hint at twisted logic and a desperate grab at revenge for her past abuse. The story unfolds from multiple perspectives, and Tempest emerges from those as an exceedingly dangerous, broken human—a skilled killer with a photographic memory and untreated personality disorder. Readers will find themselves teetering between hatred and sympathy for her.
Danbury delivers a crisp timeline here—the story’s events take place over merely one week’s time period, moving from warm Arizona homes to imposing mountain ranges—and the pace is electric, keeping readers guessing with a simple but powerful narrative style that builds dramatic tension without embellishment. Added to that is the novel’s nuanced view of mental illness, making this high-impact story truly compelling. So Much Forever can function as a standalone, but its charged suspense will undoubtedly compel new readers to return for the rest of the series.
Takeaway: Tense thriller that contemplates mental illness, family, and resilience.
Comparable Titles: Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen’s The Wife Between Us, Gillian Flynn’s Dark Places.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: B+
Marketing copy: A