Berry’s philosophical, instructive, and humanistic messages leaven the themes of death and violence, as he recounts learning from a young age that it's not always possible to save the ones you love. He also learns that bullies look for easy prey—and the urgency of protecting yourself, a skill he quickly developed. As an adult, he writes about subjects ranging from unique forms of revenge on kids pestering him to a near-death but exhilarating experience as a surfer. Brushes with death and violence persist, like in a terrifying story of a bloody fight with his girlfriend's drunken, murderous father, told with polish, power, and welcome insight.
He concludes with a story about helping out at the scene of a car accident, discussing the other helpers, and finally revealing that everyone there was of a different race and background. For a moment, everyone there was "humans and nothing more." That’s Berry's message: when we treat each other with compassion, as humans, we're capable of great kindness. When we treat each other as things to be used, violence usually follows.
Takeaway: Humane, harrowing stories of a life facing violence and danger.
Comparable Titles: R. Layla Salek’s Chaos in Color, Lee Smith’s Dimestore.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Though Jay has quite an arm, he’s got a lot to learn off the baseball field. Some of his challenges are unique, like his struggle to decipher his teacher’s Boston accent, but others are tried and true benchmarks of growing up: adjusting to a new school, making friends, dealing with bullies, surviving a first crush. While occasionally putting his foot in his mouth, Jay faces all his ups and downs with resilience and humor, including his sometimes-fraught relationship with his parents: Jay’s father wants him to pursue a military career, but Jay isn’t sure he shares his father’s vision of his future.
The story follows Jay from middle school to high school graduation, moving quickly and smoothly from one episode to the next, albeit occasionally at the expense of deeper reflection. However, Jay’s world has impressive depth thanks to Wesslen’s authentic depiction of the complexities beneath the calm surface of suburban middle-class life in the 1970s. Wesslen celebrates the era but does not sugar coat it: alongside references to the Carpenters, Happy Days, and Strat-O-Matic, he also includes glimpses of its racism and homophobia. Though younger readers may not recognize these historical and cultural references, they will be able to relate to Wesslen’s well-drawn, multifaceted characters that stumble as much as they succeed.
Takeaway: An honest, heartfelt story about growing up that will especially appeal to baseball fans.
Comparable Titles: Jordan Sonnenblick’s Curveball, Mike Lupica.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Madison’s raw emotions ripple across the page as she reluctantly returns to her beautiful but stifling hometown and struggles to navigate her rocky relationships: her interactions with her mother are strained and painful, and her stilted conversations with her brothers devolve into angry fights . Initially, readers will share Madison’s frustration with her father’s vague, cryptic appeals that seem like distractions from her compelling emotional journey. But as Madison searches for answers, she discovers that her father’s anguish has more to do with her than she realized As she sits at her father’s bedside, Madison hopes that during his moments of lucidity they will be able to mend the ugly rift in their relationship.
But Stanley builds smoothly to revelations, like Madison’s father’s deeper purpose for their reunion: to ask for Madison’s help in freeing a woman wrongfully convicted for a murder he knows she didn’t commit. As Madison struggles to understand her father’s role in the injustice, she discovers that her family harbors more secrets than even she realized. Stanley unravels this mystery carefully and deliberately, often using Madison’s dialogue and internal monologue to recap her progress. An unexpected twist in the final chapters is surprising but well-earned, offering a satisfying synthesis of Madison’s past and her father’s last request.
Takeaway: Well-constructed mystery of family angst, redemption, and satisfying twists.
Comparable Titles: Charlie Donlea’s Twenty Years Later, Ashley Flowers’s All Good People Here.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
McKinney writes with clarity and persuasive power, offering examples and action steps to approaching potential collaborations and gauging whether partnerships will work out in everyone's best interest. Her experience shines throughout, in clarifying case studies of building successful partnerships, often drawn from her own career, plus fresh tools crafted through hard-won knowledge, such as her seven "anchors" to use as a reference point when attempting to find potential collaborators. McKinney convincingly argues that, once a reader has “honed your ability to seek out collaboration,” it can take just “five minutes” to evaluate whether a potential relationship ”is worth your time, if you have mutual interests, or if there’s something you can help each other with."
With ways on how to use the ever-shifting world of social media to find potential collaborators and cultivate beneficial partnerships, this is a strong resource for business leaders looking to network and branch out with like minded business partners. Anyone eager to update their thinking about the art of working together in business or on digital platforms will garner useful tips and educational information from this book.
Takeaway: Fresh, practical self-help guide focused on networking and collaboration.
Comparable Titles: Karen Wickre's Taking the Work Out of Networking, Joe Polish's What's in it for Them?
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Comer has a wonderful sense of small town rhythms and how the insular world breeds both deep connection but also deep resentments. He shows, through Charlie's eyes, how the same inter-family problems play across the generations and how deeply petty class differences can matter. Comer populates the town with a large, colorful cast, built to anchor a series, including an overeager baker and a delightfully loopy mayor, though at times it takes some work to keep track of all the interactions and connections. However, Charlie moves through the story at a nice clip, and readers will be pulling for her to reach the finish line.
In fact, aside from the story, readers will find themselves charmed by Charlie and her self-deprecating narration. One of the great pleasures of the book is seeing how Charlie grows emotionally: she's forced to take a fresh look at her hometown’s past and discovers things were not always as she had thought, a truth that possibly extends to a budding relationship, too. Also coming across as real is Charlie's connection with her father, as she helps and defends him, and their bonding at the end is moving. Readers will look forward to Charlie's next case.
Takeaway: Promising start to a small-town mystery series, in the classic mode.
Comparable Titles: Caroline Graham, Kate Atkinson.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A-
In Loftus’s poems, memories transcend beyond the intangible and enter the physical world; they attain a state of being and change like people, like the seasons. In “Naming the Animals” the poet compares memories to “animals [calling] us in the dark,” and in “Enamel,” a clawfoot tub “in the old house, a dozen miles and a decade off,” houses in its void what is left of “his preening, waning youth.” Loftus uses figments from his past as clay to sculpt poems that relate grand insights about what it is to experience the gift and curse of time, which come forth with particular clarity in “Craquelure.”
The poem begins with the speaker flipping through a book of Renior paintings with “such brittle, fragile pages,” and then imagining the painter and his muse’s “moments in the atelier [...] bound to linen, then and later, time no friend to canvas and paper.” The term “craquelure” refers to an imperfection, a mark of wear on the painting, on the flesh, but it lends a magnificence that can only exist after the ripening touch of time. The cracked canvas is a singular wonder, and so too is Loftus’s exquisitely frayed collection.
Takeaway: Autumnal collection of intimate poems that capture beauty in humanity and art.
Comparable Titles: Margaret Atwood’s Dearly, Donald Hall’s Affirmation.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Anthony’s story is a slice-of-life blending nostalgia—dance competitions, Soul Train, the Holy Ghost dance at church, couples-only songs, the thrill of hearing Doug E. Fresh and Slick Rick at the club—with unflinching accounts of “living in a world full of hatred and racism.” Though mostly narrated in the third person, the narrative often slips into the first person, presumably from Marvel’s perspective. The author succeeds in capturing a vivid milieu and portraying the bonhomie and camaraderie of a large family and club scene, though many individual characters aren’t developed much, with some coming or going from the story with little introduction. The introduction of Lee David and Victor, Cebo’s brothers, seems contrived to demonstrate the importance of family. Their back stories are strikingly similar and they do not move the story forward.
The dialogue, frank and earthy, captures the nuances of the spoken word of the era, while bursts of sex and violence live up to the band’s name: raw. At times over-the-top and discursive, with storytelling that lacks narrative momentum, Club Bamboo nevertheless captures a time, place, and culture.
Takeaway: Vividly evoked story of a late 1970s R&B band, bursting with music.
Comparable Titles: Jacqueline Crooks’s Fire Rush, Rashod Ollison’s Soul Serenade.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: C
Marketing copy: A-
Cox brilliantly crafts a non-linear story, shifting third-person viewpoints between Nora and Gerda, allowing readers to gain a comprehensive understanding of the characters' inner worlds. Its appeal rises from its capacity to make readers consider the consequences of critical actions and speculate on alternative paths not taken. Cox depicts the continuous struggle of an illiterate woman caught between tragic relationships and the need for atonement in Gerda. The Fallen Woman’s Daughter also explores the enduring dynamics of sisterhood familial obligations, and the emotional ramifications of parental neglect through Nora, whose hopeful and longing letters for her mother while in Park Ridge turn into indifferent dutiful reports as she loses faith in their reunion.The novel's characterization establishes a superb, life-like web of nuanced relationships and personalities that feel remarkably authentic. There is an underlying thread of love and resilience that flows through the generations, and Cox emphasizes the importance of literacy albeit indirectly.
Although at times the transitions between decades and perspectives could be more smooth, this multi-generational narrative emphasizes how choices and attributes are often handed down across generations, demonstrating the fundamental bonds between parents and children. This feels like an urgent message to women to know and choose what they deserve.
Takeaway: Multi-generational family saga of love, tragedy, and redemption.
Comparable Titles: Lisa Wingate's Before We Were Yours, Stacey Hall's The Foundling.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Annie discovers the fascinating history behind the cabins, a key component of the series, when Hudson Fisher and his wife Constance visit Annie’s recently acquired flooring store, and Hudson reveals that his mother, Celeste Williams, a now-deceased movie star, once stayed in the nearby cabins. Braun alternates between these characters’ richly drawn perspectives, revealing, in fast-paced and surprising passages, how Annie reinvented herself following her divorce and how Sarah survived a traumatic childhood amid her mother’s episodic religious fervor and volatile relationship with Sarah’s alcoholic father.
Braun also journeys back in time to Depression-era Chicago, which Celeste leaves to go to Los Angeles, later meeting and marrying Joseph Keller, a film producer with whom she has Hudson, and later divorces when he is arrested as an alleged pro-Nazi sympathizer. The glamor of Celeste’s life as a popular Hollywood actress is imbued with realism through Braun’s inclusion of real-life actors and directors, including the famed Cecil B. DeMille. As the 1920s and 1980s collide, Noah makes a startling discovery while remodeling one of the cabins, leading Annie eager to learn more—and readers turning the pages.
Takeaway: Richly-drawn story of the secrets harbored in rustic California cabins.
Comparable Titles: Elizabeth Bromke’s House on the Harbor, Kimberly Thomas’s The Willberry Inn.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Merrill deftly uses the standard format of romance—alternating perspectives of the two mains—to reflect the difference between Kal’s inner and outer expression, allowing her to share Kal’s perspective on modern life from his place outside of normal time and his slowly returning memories of childhood trauma well before he’s ready to speak, while also leaning into the mystical strangeness he presents to the outside.
Playful tour-bus camaraderie, casual acceptance of gay relationships, and a general aesthetic of goodwill among the members of Hush, with whom Kal and Ryan end up spending most of the book, set an overall light tone that balances the trauma work that Merrill sets as the primary challenge for the characters. Secondary characters are thoughtfully developed, even for readers who have not met them in earlier volumes: music lovers will see a lot of their joy reflected here, and plot arcs around band drama, record-label rules, and creative expression create an enjoyable ensemble story separate from the romance arc. The relationship between Ryan, his dead best friend’s witchy aunts, and the carnival feels emotionally convincing compared to the rest of the characterization, but otherwise the whole novel pulls together organically.
Takeaway: Sweet gay romance with a focus on growth after trauma and a mystic, musical touch.
Comparable Titles: Cecilia Tan’s Taking the Lead, Ella Frank and Brooke Blaine’s Halo.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
Readers can expect a thriller that charts over two criminal cases with big money and lives on the line as Conspiracy of Lies grapples with questions that Rachlin examines with compelling detail and persuasive authority. How can justice be best served? Who is innocent and how can they be protected? To those legal dilemmas, Rachlin adds an evergreen: How far will Dalton go to protect his family—and will his wife Elenea countenance his choice to defend drug runners? Driven through the eyes of Dalton, a character without extensive expertise in criminal law, the story offers readers the chance to see potential pitfalls that the protagonist himself does not.
The novel particularly shines in courtroom passages offering full accounts of the lawyers, judges, and juries and their complex procedural drama. Also engaging, but pained, is the romantic drama between Dalton and Elena, who is traumatized by childhood experiences with cartel violence in Colombia, and tells Dalton “Protecting the dregs of Miami isn’t why I helped you through Yale.” His constant choices to choose his career over his commitment to her give the book a raw tension.
Takeaway: Thriller about a lawyer defending drug traffickers—over his family’s wishes.
Comparable Titles: Peter O’Mahoney’s The Southern Lawyer, Robert Whitlow’s Relative Justice.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Growing up in World War II and the Greek Civil War, and crediting his “life's first horrific memory to Mussolini,” Koubourlis was raised by strict parents who did their best to keep him and his brother out of the kind of mischief that might end up in a book of short stories. Often the boys felt the sting of their father’s belt as a result of their horseplay or innocent ineptitude. Readers will feel the terror of a young boy as his first memory is the Italian bombing of his hometown in Greece, but humor is never far away. (Readers sensitive to material should take note.)
In the book’s second half, the stories build in intensity, exploring individuals’ connectedness to the world and our closest environs, with a pained yet tender story of the adult narrator, in Chile with his wife, tending to a wayward kitten, Grits. Sometimes Cruel concludes with an essay on a song heard in a dream and Koubourlis’s searching thoughts about its meaning. A YouTube link offers readers a chance to hear the melody that Koubourlis describes as “powerful but calm, as if to emphasize that everything is alright, as it should be.” This is an enigmatic book that, for readers of a contemplative bent, will linger in the mind.
Takeaway: Searching, enigmatic memory stories of growing up and living in a violent world.
Comparable Titles: Caitlin Forst’s NDA: An Autofiction Anthology, the Tome Stone’s Summer of My Greek Taverna.
Production grades
Cover: B-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A-
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-
Cade is reunited with his friends from his hunting days as they drink the bar away, slay evil forces (including “a treasonous bunch of racists”) and golems alike, and even manage to create an earthquake. The journey comes with trials and tribulations, plus a devastating body count, as Ward conjures intense, inventive action that moves quickly. Unknown to the others is Thomas’s pivotal battle with the most dangerous demon—an entity in his head that takes over his mind at the slightest hint of Phantom, the planet that changed Cade forever. The only way towards redemption is accepting and coming clean about the reality of what happened on Phantom.
Narrated in brisk, hard-edged first-person, the story immerses readers in its action and the complex psyche of its protagonist, complete with moments of horror. Ward's skillful storytelling is evident in his ability to craft distinctive backstories for each of his vast range of characters, while treating seriously issues of racism, PTSD, wealth, and power. With thoughtful world-building, Ward will inspire military SF readers to turn the pages frantically to get to the truth of what went down on Phantom. The gut-wrenching climax raises enough questions unanswered to whet appetites for a sequel.
Takeaway: Gripping SF monster-hunt with tantalizing mysteries.
Comparable Titles: Ross Buzzell’s Legacy Earth, J.N. Chaney and Scott Moon’s Galactic Shield.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Jackson's examination of misogyny, white privilege, rape culture, police violence, and homophobia is potent, even profound, rooted in a cast that's fully formed and convincingly drawn, in every sense of the word. The storylines feel urgent and relatable, pulsing with the anxieties of their moment: Marsalis weakly tries to defend his idol Vick to his skeptical friends against many charges of sexual assault, while Veronika's unresolved issues regarding her own assaults trigger a relapse, and Salimah has an explosive argument with both Veronika and her egotistical activist boyfriend, Brother Rage. It all comes to a climax when Vick himself visits the store with his new intern, a young woman who will no doubt be his next victim.
For all the thorny issues Jackson takes on, readers new first and foremost are invited, here, to enjoy the company of this winning cast, with the compelling story developments building naturally from their sharply observed desires, fears, and flaws. The fact that Jackson manages to make this funny, primarily through his highly expressive cartooning, ensures this stands tall as satire, trenchant social commentary, and a love letter to music and those who live for it.
Takeaway: Trenchant, funny, and wise slice-of-life comics set in a record store.
Comparable Titles: Ezra Claytan Daniels, Lawrence Lindell.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
What starts as an educational voyage quickly turns perilous when Dante’s blog about his experiences on the trip draws the wrong kind of attention, particularly when he starts looking into a secret organization known as Ibis—a shadowy group notorious for their ruthless dedication to collecting legendary antiquities. The mystery deepens when a series of hieroglyphs appear to Dante; he’s convinced the ancient Egyptian god Thoth has sent them as a key to uncover hidden truths—truths about himself and his mother’s death. Dante sets out to decipher the visions, in the process discovering the dangerous secrets of Ibis as well as a potential link to his estranged father.
The narrative intertwines Dante's soul-searching exploration of his own supernatural abilities with the enigmatic and threatening world of Ibis. As Dante is guided by his teacher through the twists and turns of their trip, he’s finally able to relinquish certain elements of his past and pursue self-acceptance. Person deftly weaves myth, memory, and archeology into the narrative, creating a compelling mystery-adventure, rife with metaphor, that serves as a poignant reminder of the enduring power of ancient wisdom and the timeless quest for self-discovery.
Takeaway: Ancient intrigue, archeology, and mysticism make this a compelling mystery-adventure.
Comparable Titles: G. Edward Marks’s Return of Bastet, Rande Goodwin’s The Witchfinder’s Serpent.
Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: NA
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A
Telling the story in sturdy couplets that invite readers to anticipate the next rhyme, Baum and Markus deftly mix real childhood problems, including being disorganized, experiencing bad moods, and being afraid to ask for help, with witchy misadventures and welcome warmth and understanding. Izzy’s spells are cute and practical. Perhaps the most enchanting passages concern kids facing their fears and Witchie giving Izzy advice but always letting her figure things out for herself, in heartwarming contrast to Lavinia’s meanness. Inbar’s expressive, character-rich artwork, including the cover, is eye catching, with each member of the cast rendered in engaging detail worth poring over.
This fast-paced chapter book includes short stories, some darker than others. Lavinia kidnapping and abusing Maxine—including starving her—is spooky in a fairy-tale way, as is Bruno’s changed behavior, which the characters don’t seem to notice other than to repeatedly call him a “bad doggy!” Maxine’s continued trauma, meanwhile, may prompt some discussions. The ending is a little abrupt but still sweet and upbeat.
Takeaway: Fun witchy tales in which friendship and kindness prevail.
Comparable Titles: Jill Murphy’s The Worst Witch, Patricia Coombs’s Dorrie the Little Witch Series.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A-
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A