Fiction Reviews: Week of 4/16/2007

Sofer's family escaped from Iran in 1982 when she was 10, an experience that may explain the intense detail of this unnerving debut. On a September day in 1981, gem trader Isaac Amin is accosted by Revolutionary Guards at his Tehran office and imprisoned for no other crime than being Jewish in a country where Muslim fanaticism is growing daily. Being rich and having had slender ties to the Shah's regime magnify his peril. In anguish over what might be happening to his family, Isaac watches the brutal mutilation and executions of prisoners around him. His wife, Farnaz, struggles to keep from slipping into despair, while his young daughter, Shirin, steals files from the home of a playmate whose father is in charge of the prison that holds her father. Far away in Brooklyn, Isaac's nonreligious son, Parviz, struggles without his family's money and falls for the pious daughter of his Hasidic landlord. Nicely layered, the story shimmers with past secrets and hidden motivations. The dialogue, while stiff, allows the various characters to come through. Sofer's dramatization of just-post-revolutionary Iran captures its small tensions and larger brutalities, which play vividly upon a family that cannot, even if it wishes to, conform. (Aug.)

Singer-songwriter John Wesley Harding, writing under his given name Wesley Stace (Misfortune), crafts a British performing family's saga filled with wit, warmth and imagination. George Fisher is 11 years old in 1973 when his mother, Frankie, enjoying a successful run as Peter Pan, delivers him to Upside Boarding School. George misses his family, particularly his 93-year-old great-grandmother Evangeline, who for many years performed as a ventriloquist—as did her son, Joe. Under the watchful eye of the headmaster, George learns to escape student responsibilities by cheating, throwing his voice and befriending the groundskeeper, who gives him ventriloquism how-to books. George's school-days narrative alternates with another memoiristic voice from 1930, that of Joe's dummy, also called George. While George the schoolboy leaves Upside, eventually finding work in the family business, George the dummy accompanies Joe on the road to entertain troops during WWII. In different eras, boy and dummy each finds his own voice, plus some understanding of a world full of trickery and illusion. Family secrets revealed are not much of a surprise, but Stace amasses enough gently ironic humor (including sly references to Harry Potter and David Copperfield), emotion and insight to carry his voices beautifully. (Aug.)

This aggressive, prize-winning Canadian import debut recounts the fate of two childhood friends in war-ravaged Beirut. Narrator Bassam dreams of leaving Beirut, where there is "not enough [money] for cigarettes, a nagging mother, and food," and escaping to Rome, where even the pigeons "look happy and well fed." To fund his escape, he enters into a scheme with his best friend, George, to skim funds from the poker arcade where George works. But George is soon coerced into joining the militia and rises to its top ranks, allowing the friends to indulge in freewheeling lawlessness. Their days of riding the streets of West Beirut "with guns under our bellies, and stolen gas in our tanks, and no particular place to go" gives way to betrayal and violence more ferocious than either self-styled thug had bargained for. Though Bassam does eventually leave, he finds he cannot entirely escape Beirut; only in Paris, where the story plays out its third and final act, does he discover the extent of his friend's treachery. Hage's energetic prose matches the brutality depicted in the novel without overstating the narrative's tragic arc—an impressive first outing for Hage. (Aug.)

This fictionalized life of the notorious queen is told from the point of view of her younger sister, Mutnodjmet. In 1351 B.C., Prince Amunhotep secretly kills his older brother and becomes next in line to Egypt's throne: he's 17, and the 15-year-old Nefertiti soon becomes his chief wife. He already has a wife, but Kiya's blood is not as royal, nor is she as bewitching as Nefertiti. As Mutnodjmet, two years younger than her sister, looks on (and falls in love), Amunhotep and the equally ambitious Nefertiti worship a different main god, displace the priests who control Egypt's wealth and begin building a city that boasts the royal likenesses chiseled in stone. Things get tense when Kiya has sons and the popular Nefertiti has only daughters, and they come to a boil when the army is used to build temples to the pharaoh and his queen instead of protecting Egypt's borders. Though sometimes big events are telegraphed, Moran, who lives in California and is making her U.S. debut, gets the details just right, and there are still plenty of surprises in an epic that brings an ancient world to life. (July)

Four daughters of wealthy Lord Oswald Balcon come under suspicion after he takes a fatal tumble in magazine journalist Perry's debut, a delightful offering for the beach set. Each daughter has a plausible motive. Actress Serena Balcon is involved with a ruthless hotelier tycoon, and her ensuing pregnancy could mean she carries the next Huntsford baron, but her father won't allow an illegitimate child to inherit the family fortune. Recently fired women's magazine editor Cate wants to put her own spin on a new upscale travel and fashion magazine, but daddy dearest tries to undermine it from the get-go. Venetia, head of a successful design company, yearns to branch out to the States, but dad, an important company shareholder, puts the kibosh on that as well. Barrister Camilla is singled out by her law firm to run for a vacant House of Commons seat, but Oswald, who has lost his seat in the House of Lords, tries to quash his daughter's political ambitions. The writing and plotting are swift, but Perry slaps on an unsatisfying conclusion and a too-pat epilogue. Still, her spicy first novel about four impossibly glam sisters and their power-driven, cantankerous father made a big splash in the U.K. and will likely do the same here. (July)

A bleak dystopian future is tempered with moments of possibility in story writer Currie's debut novel, in which a sick and wounded Dinka woman arrives at a refugee camp in Darfur, searching for her lost brother. The woman is God, come to Earth in human form to make apologies to the Sudanese, over whose fate He is, "due to an implacable polytheistic bureaucracy, completely powerless." When God is gunned down, news of His death spreads quickly around the globe and provides the jumping-off point for the subsequent short story–like chapters that reveal what happens in a post-God world: suicide rates skyrocket (especially among clergy members), riots and mass looting erupt and the pack of feral dogs that feasted on God's corpse begin "speaking a mishmash of Greek and Hebrew" and inspiring worship among Africans. (Meanwhile, in America, the masses, seeking a deity to fill the void, begin worshipping children.) Looking at humanity through a warped lens allows the various narrators unusual insight; while sometimes overwrought, these observations are often striking, as when an enlightened dog describes the strange new experience of emotion. This novel-in-stories is unsettling and strange, but still easily accessible; despite the ways in which his world has changed, Currie's altered humanity has one foot in ours. (July)

A portrait of a modern guy in crisis, Tropper's third novel (Everything Changes; The Book of Joe) follows Doug Parker, whose life is frozen into place at 29 when Hailey, his wife of two years, is killed in a plane crash. Unable to leave the tony suburban house they once shared, he spends his days reliving their brief marriage from the moment he found her sobbing in his office over troubles with her first husband. At the same time, Doug's magazine column about grieving for his wife has made him irresistible to the media (book deals, television spots and the like are proffered) and to a wide array of women who find him "slim, sad and beautiful." Though stepson Russ is getting in trouble at school and Doug's pregnant twin sister, Claire, moves in, no amount of crying to strippers can keep Doug from the temptations of his best friend's wife or Russ's guidance counselor. Alternately flippant and sad, Tropper's book is a smart comedy of inappropriate behavior at an inopportune time. (July)

This stand-alone adventure novel from O'Brian (1914–2000) saw British publication in 1954, before the Aubrey/Maturin historicals that made his name. In the years before WWII, the teenage Derrick, orphaned by his missionary parents, sails the China seas aboard the schooner Wanderer with his American uncle Terrence Sullivan (who is the captain), his elderly English cousin Ayrton (a professor of archeology) and Sullivan's business partner, Mr. Ross. Ayrton wants Derrick to leave the sea and attend school, but first they'll all embark on an archeological expedition to Samarcand (in what is now Uzbekistan). Marauding rebels capture Ross and Sullivan early on, and Ayrton (the most intriguing of the adult characters) pretends to be a Russian weapons expert to free them. Earthy, sly humor keeps the action set pieces perking along: frigid temperatures, militaristic Tibetan monks and even the Abominable Snowman await. Six decades later, O'Brian's richly told adventure saga, with its muscular prose, supple dialogue and engaging characters, packs a nice old-school punch. (July)

Strange events haunt the lives of the intrepid Southern characters in the second collection (after Her Kind of Want) from Alabama native Davis. The title story concerns the parents of a fragile, gifted child obsessed with drawing antiquated war scenes and mayhem perhaps gleaned from a past life—a child so unlike the football-throwing boy the father had hoped for that he secretly ponders doing away with the boy. The troubled teen protagonist of "Lily, Love" is matched with a lonely elderly man sick with emphysema in a community outreach program, and the two find their senses of alienation nicely compatible. "Giving Up the Ghost," tracks the emotional ramifications of witnessing a car accident on a young couple still reeling from the miscarriage of their baby. Frank, the husband, held the hand of the dying accident victim, an intimacy he is hesitant to share with his wife. "Pilgrimage in Georgia" is a terrific writerly sendup about a novelist who moves to a small Southern town in order to gain the authenticity he lacks, only to be tormented by the productivity of a young writer as much a hack as he is. Davis creates magnificently conflicted characters with low-key stylistic panache. (July)

This debut novel, a travelogue/love story by the author of a number of European travel books, has much to offer in its description of food, wine and history, but little to say about amour. American-born travel writer Meg Parker lives with her husband and two children in a centuries-old farmhouse in the Lorraine region of France. With her fruit cellar as her home office, Meg is working on another guidebook and a French text when she receives an offer to write a book on French history. Her goofy British husband, Nigel, seems happiest drinking with his friends, her children are needy, and after little deliberation, Meg accepts the offer. Her relationship with the book's photographer, Jean-Jacques Chabrol (J-J to his amis), is stormy from their first e-mail exchange. The conflict between the two (he, a typically passionate Frenchman, she, the typical overeducated American living abroad) is as predictable as their explosive love affair. Their steamy, France-hopping days and nights are punctuated by Meg's visits home and her stabs at deciding whom she wants more: Nigel or J-J. Coons's lush novel is most seductive when dealing with French gastronomical history, but the love story never removes itself from the boilerplate. (July)

Dio "Playboy" Rodríguez grows up poor with a drunk single mother in gritty Las Vegas, leading him into gang life at 13. Now 17, Dio hides a softer side beneath a fierce exterior that's known only to his middle school sweetheart, Jennifer. But when a drive-by leaves Jennifer wounded and sends Dio to prison boot camp, their soul mate relationship is put to the test. Rivera, who originally self-published this debut, traces a classic redemptive arc: perpetually scowling Dio resists the authority of drill instructor Jackson and clashes with fellow inmates, but he pours out his heart in letters to Jennifer, forms meaningful peer relationships and gains an appreciation for discipline. A genuine care for dynamic Dio allows Rivera to deliver a sincere story of transformation. (July)

Upon the death of his elder brother in 1314, Pietro Alaghieri, 17, is thrust headlong into the post of scion to his father, the famous poet Dante, in this rollicking historical debut from Shakespearean actor Blixt. In trying to keep up with his razor-sharp father and their new patron, the scintillating and brilliant Francesco della Scalla (known as "Cangrande"), Pietro finds qualities in himself that surprise him. Cangrande may or may not be the prophesied "Greyhound" who is to cast out evil and usher in a new world under God—many seek the role. Meanwhile, Pietro's two best friends, Mariotto and Antonio, are pushed to the edge of rekindling an ancient blood feud by their joint love of a woman, which stretches Pietro's loyalties to their limits. The precipitous ending, marked with dizzying revelations by the protagonists, do nothing to mar a novel of intricate plot, taut narrative, sharp period detail and beautifully realized characters. (July)

Propelled by an ironic sense of foreboding, this clever, circular account of the unraveling of a strained marriage follows Mario, a Spanish civil servant who thrives on routine, after he becomes convinced his wife, Blanca, has deserted him and left in her place an impostor. Mario blames himself for not paying closer attention to his beloved in happier times, but his more pointed regret centers around Lluís Onésimo, a "villainous multimedia artist" whose arrival in their small city of Jaén, Mario believes, doomed his marriage. Blanca, a longtime art lover, became fixated on Lluís and his art, the latest in a long line of Blanca's artists du jour. Indeed, Blanca's many small disappointments—a missed Frida Kahlo exhibition in Madrid, Mario's crude table manners, her boredom with mundane surroundings that she claims only "mental bureaucrats" could tolerate—have their roots in their divergent backgrounds—he grew up poor and has no use for the art scene; she comes from a background of privilege. In spare, well-crafted prose and through subtle suggestions, Molina delivers a taut investigation of romantic attachment that draws readers into an eerie spiral of suspicion where the line between questionable perceptions and reality is never quite clear. (July)

Ondaatje's oddly structured but emotionally riveting fifth novel opens in the Northern California of the 1970s. Anna, who is 16 and whose mother died in childbirth, has formed a serene makeshift family with her same-age adopted sister, Claire, and a taciturn farmhand, Coop, 20. But when the girls' father, otherwise a ghostly presence, finds Anna having sex with Coop and beats him brutally, Coop leaves the farm, drawing on a cardsharp's skills to make an itinerant living as a poker player. A chance meeting years later reunites him with Claire. Runaway teen Anna, scarred by her father's savage reaction, resurfaces as an adult in a rural French village, researching the life of a Gallic author, Jean Segura, who lived and died in the house where she has settled. The novel here bifurcates, veering almost a century into the past to recount Segura's life before WWI, leaving the stories of Coop, Claire and Anna enigmatically unresolved. The dreamlike Segura novella, juxtaposed with the longer opening section, will challenge readers to uncover subtle but explosive links between past and present. Ondaatje's first fiction in six years lacks the gut punch of Anil's Ghost and the harrowing meditation on brutality that marked The English Patient, but delivers his trademark seductive prose, quixotic characters and psychological intricacy. (June)

In Steel's latest, 42-year-old Tanya Harris loves her life as a mother of three, wife of a dashing San Francisco lawyer and moderately successful writer of short stories and soap opera scripts. She has long given up on her dream of writing a screenplay, but then her agent calls with a dream offer: a major director wants her and her alone to write the script for a new high-profile film. Tanya's first reaction is distress (her twin daughters are about to start their senior year, and her son is making the transition to his freshman year at UC Santa Barbara; how can she leave them?), but her detailed deliberations are cut short by her husband, who convinces her that this is her big opportunity. In Hollywood, Tanya's cosseted in every possible way, and she takes to the work immediately. But the weekend flights home aren't enough, and her worst fear is realized when her husband strays. Steel follows Tanya as she copes with domestic upheaval, all the time pushing ahead with her blossoming screenwriting career. Steel's characters spend a lot of time contemplating problems, and Tanya is especially adept at hand-wringing. Steel's many loyal readers will be entertained by this story of a dedicated mother and wife who embarks on a series of life-altering adventures in Hollywood. (June)

Wiggins (Evidence of Things Unseen, etc.) takes a magnificently Sebald-like approach to fictionalizing the life of photographer Edward Sheriff Curtis (1868–1952)—along with that of a woman named "Marianne Wiggins." The book opens as Wiggins presents her newly completed Curtis novel to a Hollywood agent. Curtis photographed American Indians in the early 20th century, and Marianne attacks the common image of Curtis as a swashbuckler who risked his life to photograph his favorite subjects. Even as she shows that Curtis staged the shots, and was an absentee husband and father at best, the agent is enthralled. Marianne, ambivalent, arrives home to a phone call that her father is in a Las Vegas hospital—the father who has been dead for 30 years. From that quick setup, the novel moves seamlessly back and forth between Marianne's painstaking research into Curtis's life and the journey she undertakes seeking closure with her father's past. Photographs taken by Curtis and from the Wiggins's family album, which she approaches from multiple angles, give the story several layers of immediacy. Curtis emerges as a fascinating, complex figure, one who inhabited any number of American contradictions. Suffused with Marianne's crackling social commentary and deceptively breezy self-discovery, Wiggins's eighth novel is a heartfelt tour de force. (June)

Through the literal and metaphorical fog of a forest fire that rages through much of Ellis's tense third thriller (after Access to Power and The Dead Room), LAPD detective Lena Gamble investigates a string of gruesome murders, the first of a pregnant woman, while trying to follow the convoluted thinking of "Romeo," as the serial killer has been dubbed. The search becomes more complicated and personal when the body of the best friend of Gamble's dead brother, David, is found, apparently another Romeo victim. Through Gamble's nicely framed reminiscences by her pool, we learn of David's unsolved death by gunshot, five years earlier. There's clearly some connection, but Gamble can't tie Romeo to David, a sensitive soul and a rock musician of some renown. The pieces of the case fall into place a little too neatly, and there may be a few too many words on L.A. driving, but the story is tight, the characters alive and the Rambo-like assault at the end refreshingly uncharacteristic of female protagonists. Author tour. (June)

The realm of comic book heroes and villains gets a dose of realism in this whimsical debut from game design consultant Grossman. The story shifts between the perspectives of Doctor Impossible, a brilliant scientist turned world's greatest menace, and Fatale, a lonely cyborg and the newest addition to the venerable group of heroes known as the Champions. Though he's been out of commission for a while, Doctor Impossible hatches a scheme to knock the planet out of orbit ("As the Earth grows colder, my power becomes apparent, and the nations submit," he reasons). Meanwhile, Champions leader Corefire goes missing, and Fatale has to learn the ropes of superherodom as the conventional climactic showdown (at Doctor Impossible's secret lair) draws near. However fantastical, the characters (including a "genetic metahuman" and "an elite fairy guard") are thoughtfully portrayed, with Fatale—stuck in a perpetual existential crisis—bemused over the Champions' purpose, and Doctor Impossible wondering "whether the smartest man in the world has done the smartest thing he could with his life." Grossman dabbles in a host of themes—power, greed, fame, the pitfalls of ego—in this engrossing page-turner, broadening the appeal of an already inviting scenario. (June)

Fresh from five years in prison for a pot bust in California, Dick Miller tries to go straight in his hometown of New York City in Quinlan's fine second thriller (after 2006's Smoked). Miller wants to parlay the skills he used in prison—typing—into a job, but instead gets roped into shady work by an old high school buddy who runs a lucrative chop shop. After having a few too many drinks one night, Miller discovers the dead body of his girlfriend, Dot Racine, in the trunk of his car. Miller has no idea who killed her; for all he knows, he may have done it and was too drunk to remember. It's not for a couple of days—with Dot still in the trunk—that Miller finds out she had been stealing gobs of money from her employer and that lots of people wanted her dead. Along with the lovable, bumbling Miller, Quinlan brings to glorious life several other offbeat, at times deviant characters from roads less traveled. The plot hurtles along like an express train to its smashing climax. (June)

Sin, redemption, shame and grace are served up in Romano's uneven debut novel, set in Chicago's Italian neighborhoods in the late 1950s. Agostino and Angela Rosa Peccatori are recent immigrants, raising five children while running a tavern with Agostino's brother, Vince. But the Peccatoris' arranged marriage lacks communication and passion, and Angela silently endures her husband's infidelities. The couple's oldest son, Santo, grows increasingly aware of his father's indiscretions while his only sister, Victoria, flirts with truancy and with the neighborhood bad boy. The family's individual trajectories are thrown off course by a death in the family, which has ramifications that will shape the family for years afterward. But the back half of the book, with its secrets revealed and lives altered, packs fewer surprises than probably intended, and Romano's reflections on death and grief bring little new to the table. However, Romano finds a rich vein of material in a place and time buffeted by changing mores, insularity and tenuous ties to the old country. (June)

Awarded the Prix Premier Roman in France, Dufossé's compelling debut portrays the uneasy divide between adult and adolescent with superb skill, despite the sometimes clunky translation, which puts stilted language in the mouths of 13-year-olds. In 1995, 32-year-old Pierre Hoffman, who teaches French in the quiet town of Clerval far from sophisticated Paris, takes on the history/geography class for his colleague, 25-year-old Éric Capadis, after Capadis jumps to his death while "the children of 9F" watch enigmatically. Was it suicide or murder? After Capadis's funeral, one of his students warns Hoffman not to take on the class again after the holidays: "They'll destroy you." Hoffman spies on the students' secret meetings and learns mysterious deaths have shadowed the entire class since they started school. In the end, Hoffman accompanies these strange teens on a class trip with haunting consequences. Dufossé, himself a former teacher, sustains a terrifying feeling of dread throughout this grim thriller. (June)

The 11 previously published stories in this strong collection showcase Burke's handling of familiar themes and places, minus the trappings that accompany his popular Dave Robicheaux or Bill Bob Holland novels. The inevitable marriage of war and atrocity is powerfully described in the very brief Vietnam War tale, "The Village." The title story, one of two dealing with Katrina and its aftermath, shows the lasting damage of war on survivors. Both "Winter Light" and "A Season of Regret" feature disillusioned, stoical academics, loners coping with the encroachments of cruder society. Most wrenching and affecting are several coming-of-age tales: "Texas City, 1947" depicts brutalized children and contains a surprising dénouement; "The Molester" and "The Burning of the Flag" both feature childhood friends from the WWII era confronting bullies or demons. Burke demonstrates impressive range, sensitivity and polish in these smaller-scale gems. (June)

The age of consent provides the flash point for Schulman's disturbing eighth novel (after 1998's Shimmer). The online activities of Stew Mulcahey—15, gay and troubled—lead him straight into the arms of David Ziemska, 39, and his lover, Joe. The two are subsequently arrested for child molestation. Schulman, a noted playwright and gay and lesbian rights activist, examines, with unflinching precision, the aftermath for Stew—his unhappy relationship with his family and the mental deterioration that leads to the senseless murder of Victor, Stew's young nephew. But if Stew is tried as an adult for murder, should the child molestation charge against David and Joe be dismissed? David's gay lawyer, Hockey Notkin, who's struggling with AIDS, turns for help to longtime friend and fellow lawyer, Eve Krasner, who's depressed, estranged from her partner and worried about cancer. Schulman crafts a piercing investigation into desire, mores and the law. (June)

The title novella from novelist, memoirist and biographer White (Genet, etc.) turns on the guilt that gay novelist Jack, 66, feels about not visiting his dying friend Helene in Paris, and on Jack's obsession with Seth, 28, a charmless ex-Mormon sex bomb. Not much happens in "Chaos": financially strapped Jack and Seth (a "total top") meet on Craig's List and fall into a ritual where Jack pays Seth $120 for the pleasure of sucking Seth off. (White told a nearly identical story of obsession just last year in his much praised memoir My Lives, where the episode is titled "My Master.") Of the stories, only "Record Time" shines: it records what it was like to be 13 in small-town 1953, starved for culture, reduced to listening over and over to opera recordings on ancient 78s. The narrator recalls the excitement of going alone to a distant town for a screening of Cukor's famous Camille, taking the evening train home after a rain. Here the writing is thrilling, evocative, with a magic missing elsewhere in the collection. Despite that high point, even White's fans might feel entitled to sit this one out. (June)

Bestseller Archer (Kane & Abel) put his time in prison to fine literary use, as evidenced by the 12 stellar entries in his fifth story collection, nine of which are based on tales he heard from fellow inmates while incarcerated. Three others he composed after his release. Highlights include "Maestro," in which a restaurant owner finds a way to launder money so that the tax man can't collect; "The Man Who Robbed His Own Post Office," about a hardworking couple who steal from their own business rather than see it all taken from them; and "It Can't Be October Already," in which a man uses the system to beat the system. The economy and precision of Archer's prose never fails to delight. The criminal doesn't always get away with his crime and justice doesn't always prevail, but the reader wins with each and every story. Drawings by the inimitable Ronald Searle are a bonus. (June)

A quirky combination of satire and thriller, this short novel defies easy categorization. "The Corsican," a bitter former tree cutter for a Corsican firm, goes to New York to see Wayne, a Gordon Gekko–like hedge fund runner who has recently sold a major stake in that company. When the Corsican, a nationalist seeking revenge on his former employers, asks Wayne about a job, Wayne is initially dismissive, but is soon employing him as a market-altering terrorist. Meanwhile, Alix, the Corsican's sometime lover, conducts a steamy, unrelated e-mail correspondence with the ferociously windy Wayne. Soon, all three converge on Marseilles as another scheme is set to unfold. While the story and characters tend to be all surface, Berberian's clear delight in Wall Street parody and in the eccentric details of Corsican life offsets the facile quality. Berberian (The Cyclist) also gets in some Paulo Coelho–like rants against modernity that pay homage to Karl Marx's great work, Das Kapital, but readers won't need to know any Marx to enjoy this clever and interesting tale. (June)

After three fantasies (The Fifth Ring, etc.), Graham ventures into thriller waters with mixed results. Katherine Adams, an Atlanta lawyer dealing in domestic cases, sees herself as "damaged goods" because as a teenager she was abducted by a madman who mounted his female victims' heads on his "trophy room" wall. Now she's off on a cruise to Europe with her best pal and old college roommate, Beth Doliver. They board the Ocean Majestic in Miami along with biogenetics professor Ellis Stephens, who's just made a discovery that promises major medical miracles and vast personal wealth. Belowdecks, a couple of Arab terrorists skulk about setting explosives. At times, the language appears aimed at a romance audience: "The amused look that usually played at the corners of his mouth dropped away, leaving only a gentle caring man in its place." On the plus side, Graham writes a good courtroom scene and the sinking of the Majestic is exciting. Hopefully, he'll rely less on genre clichés in his next outing. (June)

Fans of action-hero Kurt Austin of the National Underwater and Maritime Agency expect imaginative plotting, but it never comes down the chute in this seventh NUMA Files novel from bestseller Cussler and Shamus-winner Kemprecos (after Polar Shift). Austin and his team are hunting icebergs when they chance upon a pirate raid aimed at stealing a priceless Phoenician antiquity launched by a stereotypical megalomaniacal villain, Viktor Baltazar, who believes he's a descendant of King Solomon. Baltazar and Austin joust continually (once, literally!) over the antique, which may be connected to the lost ark of the covenant, Thomas Jefferson and the suspicious death of Meriwether Lewis. Sequences including the attempted human sacrifice of the requisite gorgeous female U.N. investigator are all too predictable, and the writing ("The Filipino's lips curved like slices of liverwurst in a frying pan") is often less than Cussler's best. (June)

At the start of Conroy's compelling third alternate history (after 1901 and 1862), military extremists, honor bound by the Japanese code of Bushido, kidnap Emperor Hirohito hours before he's set to announce his country's formal surrender in the aftermath of the atom bomb attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Led by aging samurai and fanatical army general Korechika Anami, the new regime manipulates President Truman into invading the Japanese home islands. The massive offensive (with ground forces led by Gen. Douglas MacArthur) meets stiff resistance, including kamikaze attacks and the use of POWs as human shields. But as the U.S. finds itself slowly sinking into a nightmarish military quagmire, two improbable heroes chart a path to victory. Conroy explores the carnage of war through numerous viewpoints (a naïve American soldier, an escaped POW, a Japanese-American operative, the deposed emperor, etc.) with moving and thought-provoking results. For another take on the same scenario, see Douglas Niles and Michael Dobson's MacArthur's War: A Novel of the Invasion of Japan (Reviews, Mar. 26). (May 29)

This deeply political Barnard Women Poets Prize–winning second book is part poetic sequence, part science fiction: in a future city called the Desert—a Vegas-like manmade tourist trap—a character called the Guide shows another, the Historian, the sights. The Guide has survived the historical Kwangju uprising, a 1980 massacre of students and other prodemocracy protesters by the American-backed South Korean dictatorship. The Guide's speeches—all in verse—turn repeatedly to her own life story, detailed in a superbly invented dialect, based on English but incorporating Spanish and Jamaican patois: "I'mma double migrant," the Guide says. "Ceded from Koryo [Korea], "ceded from/ Merikka." The "Dance Dance Revolution" the Guide has seen—described, vaguely, late (perhaps too late) in the book, and named for, but supposedly unrelated to, the popular video game—thus becomes "Kwangju Replayed," another failed attempt to destroy an undemocratic capitalist system. The Historian's own reflective autobiography, presented in a terse, melodic prose, brings in other examples of global horrors (Sierra Leonean amputees) as it mirrors a reader's own unease. Hong's earlier treatment of Korean-American themes in Translating Mo'um attracted some attention, but nothing could have predicted this admittedly flawed but highly original work: hard to excerpt, hard at times to decode, it's even harder to forget. (May)

The refreshing humility of this prize-winning debut collection derives from the fact that the poems, which are well-crafted and full of small pleasures, often look outward first. They consider the details of the world and its stories—a small-town traveling fair, a doll house, Cain and Abel, a robin, a circumcision or Pandora's box—and encourage a reader to put together the larger meanings. This is not to say that Fried's unassuming approach does not astonish: in a poem that begins with simple description ("In the lot by the volunteer fire house"), Fried manages a leap to a grander claim: "These are moments of slack, of wander,/ of full reversion to the old calm." He is able to find "the jag and shimmer" of the most ordinary-seeming places and things. The moon was "once flawless and ample/ as a cufflink"; a kicking fetus "is building something/ in there" with "little saw strokes/ and two-handed hammer taps." He even finds a new angle on Orpheus and Eurydice. Some poems are very quiet, but they find their solidity with insistent rhythms and subtle rhymes, with intelligent syntax, with "their soft mouths poised/ to part with their first consonantal sounds." (May)

How can we see, as Thoreau did, a radiant nature within a nation at war? What can a 21st-century poetry say about the primeval wisdom in a canyon, a hummingbird, a brook? And how can a poet be at once a true Christian and a re-creator of the modern word? Such questions guide the rightly confident, brilliantly convincing Revell throughout this 10th book, his first since the new-and-selected Pennyweight Windows (2005). Many poets have tried to express such faith, such anger, such awe, but few do so with such original brevity and joy. "Poplars" zips from "abandoned cars... in the dusty air" to the Beijing Olympics to a ringing credo: "God is the sun truly, you know, and He moves fast"; "All together it is one God, who never made a desert,/ And whose circus we are, all clowns swimming." The 13-part title poem concludes a book-long exploration of belief and skepticism, self-doubt and familial love that also takes in the landscapes of New England and the mountain West; the poetry and prose of Keats, Goethe and Rimbaud (whom Revell has translated); and the consolation of classic films. No poet so innovative now is more accessible, and no poet half so accessible in recent years has made the language so new. (Apr.)

The languages of scientific discourse and of Roman Catholic liturgy and theology add a measure of high seriousness to the playful investigations in verse and prose of Imbriglio's experimental debut. While it may be difficult at times to discern the reasoning that guides Imbriglio's spirited arrangement of sentences within a poem, or even words within a sentence, the book's insistently interesting verbal structures, textures and cadences suggest that the poet's responsiveness to language's physical properties is often her chief (and sometimes sole) interest and organizing principle. Occasionally, this aural fixation leads to clanging ("Here. Heresay. In here you'd say") and even silliness, as in her homophonic translation of Laudamus te ("We praise you," from the Gloria of the Latin Mass): "Loud, ah, uh, ah, uh, arm, moose, day, 'A.'/ Loud, ah, uh, ah, uh, I'm, mousse, te, eh?" However when Imbriglio commits to subtler effects, or to a less complicated expressiveness, she rewards the reader with an almost preternatural beauty ("The light on the cherry trees elaborates the fallen petals of the cherry trees") and a wonder-riddled quirkiness ("A fact we all agreed not to acknowledge: a billion Gainsboroughs into the space of this o"). These are moments wholly worth waiting for. (Apr.)

Dennis's 10th book, the first since his 2004 New and Selected, continues in the Pulitzer-winning poet's generous and thoughtful—though, perhaps overfamiliar—vein. Long sentences arranged into a loose, self-confident free verse of approximated pentameters celebrate the small-scale triumphs, ordinary disappointments and late-life reconciliations of the poet and the characters of his kindhearted America—"the neighbor who seems to be playing the same piece/ On her upright piano"; "Larry Fenster, owner of Fenster's Bike Repair"; "the straight-backed, white-haired woman/ Waiting for the bus in the rain." Of "Our Generation," Dennis asks and answers generalized yet heartfelt questions: "Did we work with joy? With no less joy/ Than people felt in the generations before us." The best poems take on subjects apart from his own life, each one able to set the poem apart—"A Visit to West Point," for example (in which this peace-loving poet considers the military profession), or the secular mass of Times Square on New Year's Eve. Dennis (Practical Gods) has sought to make happiness—achieved or thwarted—as fertile, and as intellectually interesting, as rage, grief or frustration have been for other poets. (Apr.)

The often funny yet haunting prose and verse poems of this eagerly anticipated debut deal with the subtle and unexpected ways things can transform, usually just beneath an observer's awareness. In "Postcard from the Arctic Ocean" the speaker can "make smoke signals/ by burning/ these postcards/ by the handful." With similarly flippant but persistent gestures, Schomburg pushes at the boundaries of logic. He asks for a willing suspension of disbelief and of order. Non sequitur and clever opposition govern this world: a homicidal monster– cum–TV celebrity is fired in favor of a "gorilla dressed in people clothes"; in "I'm Not Carlos," "tree machines" dial up the poem's speaker, calling him Carlos and demanding he hand over "the Man Suit." A poem called "I've Since Folded This Poem into an Airplane" admits Schomburg's comfort with the self-conscious and reflexive in poetry. If a few of these poems are slight, the best of them imbue whimsy with high emotional stakes, suggesting this collection's casualness has been carefully wrought. Schomburg may be one of the sincerest surrealists around. (Apr.)

Best known for his chatty, satirical mock-western long poem "Gunslinger," Dorn (1929–1999) came to poetic maturity alongside Creeley and Olson, with whom he studied at the now legendary experimental Black Mountain College, though his fast-paced, angry poetry sometimes suggests the beats. Included in this volume are Dorn's poetic travelogues about the U.S. and Britain; a poetic history of the Apache nation; epigrams and commentaries against war, capitalism and environmental degradation; and a memorable verse journal of his chemotherapy (Chemo Sabe, his last book). Dorn specialized in acrid denunciations of Euro-American hegemony, with particular attention to the areas west of the Rockies: "We do not even yet/ know what a crisis is." "Gunslinger"—here represented in a short selection—itself records a saloon conversation among the titular cowboy, the poet, the saloonkeeper Miss Lil and an improbably wise talking druggie horse. Celebrated during the 1970s, there is nothing else like it in poetry. If there is sympathy and caution in Dorn's work, he directs it only toward the peoples American governments have tried to destroy: Apaches "embody a state/ which our still encircled world/ looks toward from the past." The breadth and fire of his denunciations still read beautifully, and have a lot to teach us. (Apr.)

In a posthumously published poem, Bukowski says he's succeeded "If you read this after I am long dead." By that standard, he is indeed a success: this fifth—and purportedly last—posthumous book published since his death in 1994 offers his still-large audience more of what made Bukowski (1921–1994) and his hard-drinking alter ego Henry Chinaski famous, as chronicled, for example, in the films Barfly and Factotum. Rapid, chatty free verse records his devotion to racehorses, boxing and drinking; his sexual exploits and failures; his contempt for highbrow, hoity-toity literati, and his countervailing yearnings for literary fame. Early on, the poems show unapologetic nostalgia: in "the 1930s," "the landlord/ only got his rent/ when you had/ it." Some of the most memorable poems here record the poet's anxieties and delights while caring for his daughter. The final pages are devoted to fate, last things, old age, mortality and retrospectives on Bukowski's hard-drinking, prolific career: "we were not put here to/ enjoy easy days and/ nights." Bukowski's style did not change in his last years; readers who have already written him off are unlikely to change their minds. Fans, however, may discover one of his strongest, most affecting books. (Apr.)

This third book by noted critic and poet Longenbach is a collection of lyrics presenting conversations between an eternal soul and that soul's embodied, temporal self. When this idiosyncratic fragmentation of "the mind thinking" works, the results are lovely, intimate and distilled, as in the title poem, when the soul informs us, "If you say the word death/ In heaven,/ Nobody understands"; or in "Second Draft," when the embodied self explains, "...I said// Being mortal,/ I aspire to/ Mortal things.// I need you,/ Said my soul,/ If you're telling the truth." Throughout, Longenbach is drawn, romantically, to nature, though his natural descriptions and settings can feel dislocated or mythical, as if equal parts Wordsworth and Beckett; for example, "The flower didn't speak to me but/ I spoke back, I heard// My name." Sometimes Longenbach's romanticism gets overblown, however: "To that hidden place,/ ... No shepherds came, no goatherds./ Only nymphs and muses/ Joining together in song." Other times, the language feels merely flat, rather than distilled, compressed or charged. Nonetheless, at his best, Longenbach offers a moving directness and koanlike simplicity (or complexity): "First rule: no one/ Is speaking. The second is/ Follow the sound." (Apr.)

This new volume collects for the first time the four components of Silliman's seminal The Age of Huts, including one of the prose poems he is best known for, Ketjak. Silliman has taken on new guises since the original publications of these early works, especially as the author of the volumes-long The Alphabet and as inveterate blogger. This book shows a dynamic artist questioning nearly all the assumptions of English-language poetry. That he manages to dramatize the excitement of a very new way of thinking in an accessible way is a feat: no elitist head-in-the-clouds grandstanding here; Silliman writes in charismatic, direct sentences. "The Chinese Notebook" takes its primary structure from Wittgenstein's Philosophical Investigations—numbered paragraphs that ask questions about language and form while playfully operating through them—while "Sunset Debris" is a serial autobiography strangely punctuated by questions concerning sex: "Isn't it that certain forms of language, for example of erotic content, focus perception away from the words and the syntagmemic chain, a world suppressed in reference to another?" This volume makes available one of the few must-have works of American avant-garde poetry of the late-'70s. (Apr.)

Campo's substantial following comes in part from his background and his achievements: the Cuban-American doctor, now teaching at Harvard Medical School, has written fluently and movingly, in four previous books of verse and two of prose, about his heritage, his work of healing, and his love life as a gay man in the age of HIV/AIDS. The unusual audience Campo (What the Body Told) has built comes at least as much from his deft handling of rhyme and meter, and those skills are on evidence here more than ever. Rhyming pentameters, sestinas, villanelles, pantouns, rhymed haiku and monorhyme apply the tools of premodern verse to the trials and joys of contemporary life. "A Simple Cuban Meal" reflects, over "roast pork,/ black beans and rice," "how little pleasure teaches us in life"; several vivid pages translate poems on erotic and political themes by Neruda. In the titular villanelle—one of several lyric works related to September 11—"We fear the enemy is all of us." Toward the collection's more optimistic close, a long-term lover, a rainstorm, crocuses and a New England beach become the poet's allies, and readers are privileged to watch him "realize/ it's in another person's heart, his eyes/ that the story of us achieves completion." (Apr.)

In her signature short, piercingly demotic lines, Myles (Skies) fiercely mines concatenated observations for the raw stuff: "it's like genitals/ I want to show you all these tiny parts." Myles has, by her own count, written "thousands of poems," and now finds information and aesthetic pleasure in almost anything: "I agree/ It's a good place to shit," or as a poem titled "Culture" puts it: "It accepts all/ marks & none/ So I'll just write/ into it." Myles's short descriptive bursts read like object lessons in an unfailing and unflinching fidelity to experience, which has its own rewards: "You are the candy melting/ in my mouth./ Is that a euphemism/ For what? Witnessing your love." One poem tries to delineate British and American English— "the words were never/the same again"; another tries to pin down involuntary convulsions of beauty—"Why is light/ so damn emotional/ if it's just/ a burning star." (Apr.)

Tight writing and an unromantic portrayal of the work of a PI distinguish Shamus-winner Pronzini's solid 32nd entry in his Nameless Detective series (after 2006's Mourners). Distracted by wife Kerry's bout with breast cancer, Nameless is reluctant to return to work in his San Francisco office, especially when a former client, Celeste Ogden, seeks to retain his services again. Several years earlier, Ogden had hired Nameless to dig into the background of her sister's fiancé, a software mogul named Brandon Mathias, but the gumshoe's close scrutiny failed to uncover anything fishy. Now, Ogden's sister has died in a fall at her home, and Ogden wants Nameless to prove that Mathias killed her. Despite a less engaging subplot in which one of Nameless's associates tracks down an arsonist, this installment is sure to please series fans. (July)

Prioress Eleanor of Tyndal is recuperating from a life-threatening illness at the start of Royal's riveting fourth medieval mystery (after 2006's Sorrow Without End), but she brightens at an assignment from her aunt Beatrice, director of novices at Amesbury Priory, who asks her to investigate a ghost people claim has begun haunting Amesbury. When a local man is found beheaded, Eleanor realizes she's dealing with a human killer, not an otherworldly spirit. Meanwhile, a thief may be trying to steal a valuable illuminated manuscript from the priory. In a fascinating subplot, a handsome young monk, Thomas, hunts down the manuscript thief. Though committed to celibacy, 22-year-old Eleanor develops quite a crush on Thomas, who struggles with homosexual longings. The author subtly treats the erotic charge surrounding Eleanor and Thomas while shedding light on 13th-century understandings of sexuality. Royal draws together the murder, the manuscript and the ghost in an unexpected conclusion. (June)

In Havill's satisfying fifth Posadas County puzzler (after 2006's Statute of Limitations), undersheriff Estelle Reyes-Guzman and her colleagues discover three Hispanics shot to death, execution-style, at a remote New Mexico airstrip. Judging by the victims' soft hands, well-dressed appearance and airborne arrival, these are no ordinary illegals, and it's up to the sheriff's department to determine who's behind the crime. Meanwhile, a local reports his plane as having logged unexplained airtime. A Mexican exchange student's watercolor artwork lends the first clue to the puzzle, and the resulting answer astounds even the well-seasoned undersheriff. Estelle suspects she knows the next victim, and her attempt to stop the death toll lands her face-to-face with this calculating killer. Havill takes the reader through an all-terrain investigation to an edge-of-your-seat finale. (June)

Chick lit authors become a killer's target in this loving sendup of the popular genre from journalist Harris (Miss Media). After Mimi McKee, author of Gay Best Friend, has her throat slit with a shard from a broken martini glass, Lola Somerville, a 32-year-old freelance writer living in Brooklyn, determines to unmask the murderer. The investigation could help land Lola a new book deal and boost flat sales of her debut novel, Pink Slip. Is the fiendish killer "Reading Guy," a 40-something dweeb who stalks chick lit author signings? Or could it be Mimi's boyfriend, Quentin, a crossword puzzle composer? Then there's Wilma, the militant leader of the Jane Austen Liberation Front, who has no love for authors of low-brow literature. When not sleuthing or scribbling, Lola gabs on her cellphone to best friend Annabelle and leans on her "geek-hottie" husband, Doug, for support. Readers will down this fizzy "murder-tini" in one gulp. (June)

Bestseller Greenlaw introduces an indomitable heroine, Jane Bunker, in her strong mystery debut, which finds the former Dade County, Fla., chief detective seeking her roots and a slower pace of life in her coastal childhood hometown of Green Haven, Maine. Starting over as a marine investigator for an insurance company, Jane happens upon the body of alcoholic cod fisherman Nick Dow, who washes ashore with a crushed skull beneath the docks of the fish plant Jane means to assess. The state police don't suspect foul play, but she does. Chasing the murderer, Jane becomes an accidental stowaway aboard a boat that heads into a fierce storm at sea. A cast of memorable New Englanders—especially fish plant foreman Cal Dunham and Jane's kooky but caring landlords, Henry and Alice Vickerson—enhance a fast-moving plot, while the nautical details will appeal to fans of Greenlaw's nonfiction books such as The Hungry Ocean and The Lobster Chronicles. Author tour. (June)

At the start of the lighthearted third Sofie Metropolis mystery (after 2006's Dirty Laundry) from Carrington (the nom de plume for husband-and-wife Lori and Tony Karayianni), the forgetful, peculiar behavior of the Mets' newest pitching sensation, Reni Venezuela, alarms his wife, Gisela. Gisela hires Greek-American PI Sofie, a fellow native of Astoria, Queens, to get the goods on the star baseball player before the play-offs. But this is no simple cheating spouse case: Sofie observes that the normally ambidextrous Reni has pitched the last four games left-handed, and her assistant's research reveals that his last name is actually "Bastardo." In between the sleuthing, Sofie finds time for her effusive extended family and her romantic interest, Dino, the Greek immigrant sweet-shop owner who's tastier than his chocolate tortes. Smart, sassy Sofie knocks the ball out of Shea Stadium in this colorful concoction. (June)

Forensics anthropologist Gideon Oliver's compelling 14th adventure (after 2006's Unnatural Selection) involves a hot, humid and decidedly deadly expedition up the Amazon River with his friends Phil Boyajian, who heads a budget travel agency, and FBI agent John Lau. While Phil rates the boat's amenities, Gideon and John marvel at the natural wonders. But before long, they pick up on tension among the other passengers, who include world-famous ethnobotanist Arden Scofield and two of his colleagues—a ghostwriter and a bug researcher—plus a mysterious guide known only as Cisco. As the travelers go deep into the jungle, fearful of the rarely seen Chayacuro headhunters, Gideon and his pals find themselves in the middle of a decades-old blood feud, along with drug smuggling, greed and murder. Edgar-winner Elkins delivers fascinating descriptions of the Amazon and a satisfying denouement, courtesy of Gideon's characteristically astute analysis of human remains. (June)

Love flourishes amid technical puzzles and planetary mysteries in Latner's strong debut, which offers a healthy dose of the sciences—astronomy, physics, geology, biology—along with an intriguing cast of characters. After the interstellar colony ship Aeon leaves a failing Earth to build a better world, the people aboard discover that even the most thorough planning can't prepare you for everything. It's medical officer Catharin Gault's job to care for the crew, both in stasis and out, but even the best medical technology can't hold back the effects of time, especially when the Aeon's voyage ends up taking hundreds of years longer than originally envisioned. The colonists' stasis sleep has left them open to dangerous side effects on the molecular level, changes that alter their health and their ability to have children. Prickly molecular biologist Joseph Devreze, a last-minute addition to the Aeon's crew, may be able to repair the damage, but his solution could change humanity forever. Well-known for her hard SF short fiction, Latner should win new readers with this fine first novel. (July)

With an adroit combination of paranoid spy thriller tricks and SF gadgetry, MacLeod (Learning the World) depicts a near future that may or may not be our own, when 9/11 and the Iraq war were followed by war with Iran, a flu pandemic and terrorist attacks, and the West teeters on the brink of an all-out nuclear exchange. James Travis, a Scottish software engineer whose hatred for the U.S. has driven him to spy for France, and his daughter, Roisin, a young peace activist, have both witnessed horrendous acts of terrorism, most recently the apparent nuclear bombing of an airbase in Scotland. Nothing is what it seems, however. Government agents use the Internet to spread sophisticated disinformation, but are still perfectly willing to fall back on torture when necessary. Meanwhile, the Execution Channel, a rogue media outlet, broadcasts actual footage of various murders and executions 24-7. Dizzying plot twists and a variety of fascinating, believable technological breakthroughs make this perhaps MacLeod's most compulsively readable novel to date. (June)

The digressive third volume in Williams's Books of the Cataclysm series (after 2006's The Blood Debt), set on a far-future Earth, propels its heroes on a perilous quest, while something "dark and dangerous" grows in the mountains. Rather than push toward the source of the postapocalyptic flood that swept through the crack in the Earth called the Divide, Marmion, a dedicated Sky Warden, and his traveling companions are forced to detour into the forest to prevent a needless interspecies war between the human foresters of Milang and the beastlike beings known as the Panic. On a separate journey, the twins Hadrian and Seth (both contained in the body of a Homunculus), and tracker Habryn Kail engage in portentous expository discussion. This entry feels like an unnecessary, if enjoyable, diversion from the main story line. Hopefully, the projected fourth and final installment will pull everything together into a coherent whole. (June)

At the start of Gilman's convoluted but diverting fourth Retrievers fantasy (after 2006's Bring It On), set in a near-future Manhattan, Wren Valere, a professional thief with magical "Talent," and her demon sidekick, P.B., discover the brutalized corpse of an angel. The gutted angel, or winged nonhuman "fatae," turns out to be just one casualty in a heated conflict between Nulls (humans without Talent) and the powerful human Talents, along with the fatae. Not only are bigoted human vigilantes going after supernaturals, but it appears the Silence, a covert organization that used to employee Wren's partner and lover, Sergei Didier, has become corrupted from within. Several Silence Talent operatives have gone missing, and Sergei is drawn back into the group's politics as a new truce falls apart. Though newcomers to the series might find the plot and multiple cabals a little confusing—with the spy stuff a little too derivative of TV's Alias and not enough fey—Wren's can-do magic is highly appealing. (June)

An obsession for skunk musk sends a young man on a picaresque journey in Courter's darkly comedic first novel, set in the town of New Essex that appears to be a suburb of New York City. Damien Youngquist nurtures a peculiar love for the smell of skunk, "the richest of all olfactory pleasures," by trapping the animals in the woods and forming a family of them at his home—much to the disgust of his nosy neighbor, Mrs. Endicott, and fellow employees at the law book publishing firm where he works, Grund & Greene. Then Damien meets lively, foul-mouthed Pearl, a woman who appreciates his taste for skunks like no one else. A fish fetishist, Pearl is also a marine biologist with a couple of inventions that just might solve global warming and world hunger. Courter takes his time with Damien's story, illuminating the many varieties of obsession and its strangest consequences. (June)

Rochelle (The Wild Boy) delivers an excellent traditional fantasy that draws on centuries-old Celtic fairy lore. Fairies, notably infertile among their own, have long interbred with humans, often leaving behind orphaned or abandoned children who never fit in and who develop magical powers and magical vulnerabilities, seeking self-knowledge as they evade their enemies, the evil Fomorii. A crisis is brewing. Librarian Ben Tyson, who lives in Garner, N.C., is concerned about his son, Malachi, whose late mother was fey. Like other half-fairy children, Malachi must heed a strange destiny. The book's strength lies in the sensitive characterizations and the texture of its contemporary reality. Some Wiccans may be upset by depictions of black witchcraft (though Rochelle is clearly aware of white witchcraft), but otherwise this should be a book with wide appeal, as it touches so sensitively on basic emotions, recognizable by anyone who remembers childhood. (May)

For the final volume of her Templar trilogy (after Sinful Pleasures), McCall trots out an unlikely hero: the valor-deficient Sir Alexander de Ashby, a disgraced Templar Knight sentenced to death for trying to sell Templar treasure. Though he's "rarely capable of living up to his word," Alex is offered a chance at freedom if he agrees to impersonate the earl of Marston, a Scottish laird who recently died in prison, and who bore an uncanny resemblance to Alex. His mission is to infiltrate a border castle as a spy for the English. After intense coaching, Alex is ready to assume his role—but will his act convince the earl's fiery wife, Lady Elizabeth? Immediately smitten, Alex's passionate lovemaking and subsequent guilt almost give him away. As his love deepens, he comes to realize how his imminent betrayal and abandonment will hurt Elizabeth, but he also knows that his best friend John, still held by the English, will be killed if his mission is compromised. As Alex discovers his hidden heroism, he begins to form a plan that will protect Elizabeth and restore his reputation among the Templar. McCall's unconventional but engaging hero, strong heroine and fresh plot twists make this another winning historical. (June)

Smith's latest (after Weapon of Seduction) follows a serial killer who marks his victims with a spider tattoo before brutally murdering them. Det. Sebastien Durand of San Antonio is assigned to the initial murder case, and soon seeks the help of entomology professor Francesca Purnell to help him identify the type of spider tattooed on the victim. Francesca identifies the spider as a Mexican arachnid that is "supposed to be cursed." When an acquaintance of Francesca's falls victim to the killer, Sebastien and Francesca are drawn closer together, and soon the intensity of the murder investigation gives way to romance. Danger and unexpected familial complications follow, as do a barrel of red herrings and a host of likely suspects. With a deft touch and solid cast of characters, Smith gives equal credence to spicy romance and nail-biting suspense on her way to an explosive conclusion. (June)

Mackay (Tides) manages to breathe life into the tired alien-invasion genre, deftly juggling hard sci-fi and a bleak tale of postapocalyptic survival. In the far future, an advanced, alien race called the Tarsalans, having failed to gain immigration rights from Earth's government, make a last-ditch effort to control negotiations by blanketing the planet in a mysterious shroud that blocks out all sunlight. On the Moon, scientist Gerry Thorndike, a recovering alcoholic, seeks a way to reverse the so-called phytosphere and save his estranged, Earth-bound family. Back on Earth, Gerry's Nobel Prize–winning brother, Neil, scientific adviser to the president, launches a rival crusade to destroy the alien shroud. Meanwhile, Gerry's wife, Glenda, struggles to protect her family as perpetual darkness decimates crops and plant life, inspiring violence among neighbors desperate for food. Neil and Gerry's prolonged, dispassionate debates over the task at hand teem with intriguing concepts, but often eclipse any sense of urgency over their imperiled loved ones. Luckily, Glenda's tale, peppered throughout, drips with claustrophobic suspense and ruthless antagonists: corrupt lawmen, starving predators and the Tarsalans themselves. While the resolution is anything but unexpected, Mackay churns up enough high-tech intrigue and old-fashioned suspense to make a fresh read. (June)

Though formulaic, the debut novel from Gagnon is saved by smart, appealing lead characters FBI Special Agent Kelly Stone and her partner, Roger Morrow. A distinguished New England college is in turmoil after two female students, each the daughter of rich and powerful families, are found butchered in an old campus tunnel system, with strange Norse symbols painted around them. Joining the agents on the case is former FBI agent Jake Riley, who now works as head of security for one of the dead girls' fathers. As more bodies turn up—and a student goes missing—Kelly and her team find themselves in a race to stop the mysterious killer. While Gagnon doesn't bring much new to the standard serial-killer plot line, she keeps things moving with a brisk pace and likable leads. Kelly's interactions with Roger carry a nice blend of warmth, humor and professionalism, bringing a sense of the real to their partnership. Kelly and Jake's relationship is no less interesting, and Gagnon wisely avoids forcing a romance between them. Gagnon's characters hold promise for an enjoyable series; she just need to find some cases worthy of them. (June)

The acerbic story of ultimate slacker Buddy Bradley from the pages of Hate concludes in this second compilation volume, originally serialized in color in the 1990s but collected here in black and white. Buddy and girlfriend Lisa leave freewheeling Seattle for Buddy's childhood home in New Jersey, where his father sits in a hospital thinking he has cancer, his mother frets loudly and his friend Jay stalks teenage girls and shoots heroin. Buddy and Jay soon hatch a plan to open a store selling junky collectibles to appeal to aging hipster nostalgia. Buddy's religious mother and Lisa get drunk while bowling, and Lisa spills the fact that she's had five abortions. An old friend starts selling drugs and driving around with an Uzi. The episodic tales veer through a lot of ground—the unexpected death of Buddy's father, Lisa's inexplicable infidelity, a friend's out-of-the-blue suicide—but always with a loud, frenetic, "life sucks, who cares" attitude reflected in the big loping swirls and exaggerated features of Bagge's illustrations. Fans of underground comics' brutal social satire and people with generally bitter dispositions will laugh out loud at virtually every seedy panel; other readers will find it a total bummer, dude. (May)

Grisly and surreal, this story of an alien invasion gives the phrase "talk to the hand" a whole new meaning. Alien spores roughly the size of tennis balls fall to earth one night; from within crawl sluglike creatures that burrow their way into the brains of humans, effectively killing them and taking over their bodies. Young Shinichi is wearing headphones when one tries to attack him, and it ends up taking over his hand instead. The hand talks to him—in time, he names it Migi ("right")—and begins devouring books to learn more about the new "host race." Meanwhile, other invaders are devouring people, touching off a worldwide string of horrid murders; the invaders can sense one another, and a clue in a late chapter hints at some sort of purpose for their trip to Earth. Violence is graphic and often shocking, depicted in a style reminiscent of western comics and H.R. Giger. The ordinary nature of the rest of the illustration gives the whole book an unsettling edge, a sort of subliminal "it could happen anywhere" vibe. A cult favorite manga, this was originally released in the U.S. by Tokyopop in the '90s, but Del Rey is presenting a new translation and it should find an eager audience. (May)

This bit of tongue-and-cheek third-generation fight manga is wondrously fun, but difficult to classify. The hero, Joe, employs a magic cat, Earthling J. J. Cattingworth the Third, to do his fighting, lock picking and spy-gizmo work. (PETA members, beware—Joe makes the cat "work" by flinging syringes full of drugs at it.) Joe and his friend Pete do jobs for various shady characters, until Pete falls in love with a water-breathing alien he is charged to deliver to a club for nefarious purposes. Meanwhile, Joe is spying on mob bosses who eat cannibal sushi. Joe and his cat meet a Sasquatch named Lukashev who spent his youth "as part of a super-naut program, along with a chupacabra and a dinosaur from the future." The fun with words points to an older audience, but the humor has juvenile moments (at one point, Joe uses the cat as a periscope by looking up its butt). The art, while not sophisticated, has a funky sense of movement that suits the hilarious whole. Where Graham really succeeds is in making readers care about these oddballs, especially when Joe risks his life to save his ex-girlfriend from a bad guy (if you can imagine throwing a drugged cat at a mobster as a dramatic moment). (Apr.)

Two old pros have fun in this latest installment of the Conan saga. Robert E. Howard's muscle-bound barbarian is usually presented as a grim loner; thus, it's surprising when, coming upon the thief Alvazar buried in hot sand up to his neck, Conan jovially gives him a refreshing drink of dog's blood, then butchers the priests who were executing the man for stealing a sacred relic. This version of Conan needs a comic sidekick, and his banter with Alvazar enlivens the string of adventures as the two team up to track down a series of magical objects that they hope to sell for money, but that also could open the way for a malevolent elder god to re-enter this world. Along the way, the two rogues encounter wizards, animated mummies, demons and a very lusty djinn. Severed limbs and heads fill the air every few pages, but so do good-old-boy quips. Truman has been expert at drawing this kind of droll action-adventure since Grimjack, and Lansdale has honed a knack for sly, outrageous humor in his Hap & Leonard crime novels . Their collaboration is a genuine, if somewhat guilty, pleasure. (Apr.)