Fiction Reviews: Week of 2/19/2007

A barely literate hard-bitten gambler and petty criminal, Elias Abrams, the 20-year-old cardsharp hero of Melman's solid debut, flees hometown New Orleans (and a bogus murder charge), joins the Confederate Army and realizes "every circumstance of his life now conspires to kill him." He survives the infantry as he had the city—using his wiles, card skills and fists—until his colonel hands over an envelope containing a charming missive from Nora Bloom, a young New Orleans maiden who wrote a support-the-troops letter at the urging of her rabbi. Unexpectedly stirred, Elias begins a correspondence and finds himself obsessively fantasizing about her. A battlefield injury leads to a furlough during which he returns to the city to meet both Nora (he falls in love) and cronies from his seedy past, who use his new flame as leverage to draw him into a sinister plot. Readers will find no fault with the colorful portrait of Civil War–time New Orleans, its squalid underworld and small Jewish enclave, or Melman's portrayal of army life (more hurry-up-and-wait than cannons and sabers). There is certainly no shortage of Civil War fiction; this is one of the better offerings. (June)

Arriving just in time for beach-read season, the effervescent hardcover fiction debut of cookbook author and romance novelist Harbison features four D.C.-area women who meet weekly to swap and chat about... shoes. Trying to get a handle on her massive consumer debt, Lorna Rafferty posts an Internet ad looking to trade footwear with women who have good taste and wear size seven-and-a-half. A senator's trophy wife, Helene Zaharis, is dreaming of escaping her loveless marriage when she stumbles upon Lorna's post. Overweight phone sex operator Sandra Vanderslice struggles to overcome her agoraphobia long enough to attend the shoe meetings. After a few funny missteps, the threesome finds a fourth member, Joss Bowen, the nanny of a shrewish socialite's hellion boys. Joss couldn't care less about shoes, but uses the group as a reason to get out of the house. Harbison does a fine job of showcasing how each woman is trapped—Lorna by her debt, Helene by her marriage, Sandra by her self-image, Joss by her employment contract—and how the fresh eyes of the group allow them to see themselves in a new light. Harbison creates vivid, convincing characters and handles them well. Reading this novel is like eating a slice of cake. (June)

Murakami's 12th work of fiction is darkly entertaining and more novella than novel. Taking place over seven hours of a Tokyo night, it intercuts three loosely related stories, linked by Murakami's signature magical-realist absurd coincidences. When amateur trombonist and soon-to-be law student Tetsuya Takahashi walks into a late-night Denny's, he espies Mari Asai, 19, sitting by herself, and proceeds to talk himself back into her acquaintance. Tetsuya was once interested in plain Mari's gorgeous older sister, Eri, whom he courted, sort of, two summers previously. Murakami then cuts to Eri, asleep in what turns out to be some sort of menacing netherworld. Tetsuya leaves for overnight band practice, but soon a large, 30ish woman, Kaoru, comes into Denny's asking for Mari: Mari speaks Chinese, and Kaoru needs to speak to the Chinese prostitute who has just been badly beaten up in the nearby "love hotel" Kaoru manages. Murakami's omniscient looks at the lives of the sleeping Eri and the prostitute's assailant, a salaryman named Shirakawa, are sheer padding, but the probing, wonderfully improvisational dialogues Mari has with Tetsuya, Kaoru and a hotel worker named Korogi sustain the book until the ambiguous, mostly upbeat dénouement. (May)

Hart's debut sardonically exposes the inner lives of the members of New England's prestigious Eden Rock Country Club. Bond trader Charles Lambert's botched tee-off accidentally kills a goose that's part of a huge flock that has invaded the club's grounds, spurring him to eccentrically "examine the balance sheet of his soul." The other members think he's lost his mind, forcing his wife, Madeline, still out of her depth with Eden Rock's old money, to deal with the gossip and cross looks, while their animal rights activist daughter protests the club, insisting it go vegan. Meanwhile, the club's chef, Vita, is secretly fattening up a portion of the flock with the illicit intention of creating an unforgettable meal for club members. The damage-controlling club manager, Gerard Wilton, the dieting Dr. Frank Nicastro and the secret-mongering dowager Arietta Wingate round out the cast. While some of the lesser characters tiptoe dangerously close to stereotypes of the rich and privileged, Hart does an admirable job of developing memorable flawed characters and letting them loose in an absurd situation. The misunderstandings, unusual pairings and comic antics call to mind the twists and turns of an old-fashioned drawing room comedy. (May)

Imagining the banks of the Seine in the thick of la vie moderne, Vreeland (Girl in Hyacinth Blue) tracks Auguste Renoir as he conceives, plans and paints the 1880 masterpiece that gives her vivid fourth novel its title. Renoir, then 39, pays the rent on his Montmartre garret by painting "overbred society women in their fussy parlors," but, goaded by negative criticism from Émile Zola, he dreams of doing a breakout work. On July 20, the daughter of a resort innkeeper close to Paris suggests that Auguste paint from the restaurant's terrace. The party of 13 subjects Renoir puts together (with difficulty) eventually spends several Sundays drinking and flirting under the spell of the painter's brush. Renoir, who declares, "I only want to paint women I love," falls desperately for his newest models, while trying to win his last subject back from her rich fiancé. But Auguste and his friends only have two months to catch the light he wants and fend off charges that he and his fellow Impressionists see the world "through rose-colored glasses." Vreeland achieves a detailed and surprising group portrait, individualized and immediate. (May)

Davis's spare, always surprising short fiction was most recently collected in Samuel Johnson Is Indignant. In this introspective, more sober culling, Davis touches on favorite themes (mothers, dogs, flies and husbands) and encapsulates, as in "Insomnia," everyday life's absurdist binds: "My body aches so—It must be this heavy bed pressing up against me." Davis is a noted translator (Swann's Way), and a kind of passion—and bemused suffering—for points of rhetoric produces a delicate beauty in "Grammar Questions" ("Now, during his time of dying, can I say, 'This is where he lives'?") and "We Miss You: A Study of Get-Well Letters from a Class of Fourth-Graders," written to their hospitalized classmate. The longest selection, "Helen and Vi: A Study in Health and Vitality," examines the long lives of two elderly women, one white, one black, in terms of background, employment, pets and conversational manner. Most moving may be "Burning Family Members," which can be read as a response to the Iraq War: " 'They' burned her thousands of miles away from here. The 'they' that are starving him here are different." Davis's work defies categorization and possesses a moving, austere elegance. (May)

DeFelice has fashioned a powerful quest novel out of what could have been just a clever homage to Conrad's Heart of Darkness. Mercury "Merc" Conrad, on a shadowy assignment into present-day Afghanistan, has disappeared with $2 million of CIA money, which the agency wants back. Since Merc saved the life of his friend and business partner, ex-Special Forces soldier Jack Pilgrim, on three earlier occasions, Jack sets out to find and rescue Merc. The journey takes Jack deep into Afghanistan, a heart of darkness if there ever was one, propelling him to the very edge of civilization and beyond. Jack fights for his life on almost every page with the action slacking off only in the rare moments when he can sit back to rest and ponder questions of morality, loyalty and honor. DeFelice has coauthored many novels with such thriller writers as Stephen Coonts and Larry Bond, but this and his other solo efforts, including Threat Level Black and Coyote Bird, prove that he can write and fight with the best of them. (May)

The 10 linked stories of Barry's first-rate debut capture the idiosyncrasies of an upstate New York backwater where social life revolves around Lucy's Tavern, founded by the late Lucy Beech, who "loved live music and dancing and understood people who liked longing more than they did love." There, a limited pool of regulars drinks nightly, has the kind of revolving recreational sex that creates complications for decades, and ruins its children: "You watch a kid like Ruby Plumadore, whose clothes never fit and who smells like cigarettes... get off the bus and... subtly gird herself to walk into her front door." There's Harlin Wilder and his twin brother, Cyrus, who are in and out of work, hung up on ex-wives and waiting for the next woman to roll into their lives when they're not drinking or getting into fights. Linda Hartley, an advice columnist for adolescent mag Sugar and Spice and for Woman Today, battles her own demons; while Harlin's ex-, Grace Meyers, still has good things to say about him. The situations are familiar, but Barry gets down to the grit of her characters and captures the plangency of a local bar that serves as de facto communal household. (May)

A bored housewife befriends a man who could be a fugitive murderer in this perplexing and clunky debut novel. (Lawson edited the anthology Posterity: Letters of Great Americans to Their Children.) A Bowdoin-educated Bristol, Mass., native, Kate Colter never really gelled with the locals after moving with her paleontologist husband, George, and daughter, Clara, to Hayden, Wyo., George's hometown. So she spends a lot of time on the phone talking to her aunt back in Boston and observing the rituals of the American West (rodeos, parades, "Omaha Steak parties"). When she meets her mother-in-law's new boyfriend, the charming, rugged and well-read Tom Baxter, they become fast friends. But a series of coincidences leads her to suspect that Tom is actually on-the-lam Boston gangster Whitey Bulger. Lawson, the daughter of historian David McCullough, intimately understands her protagonist's displaced easterner ennui, but Kate's listlessness becomes a dulling centerpiece (a cordless phone's dying battery is prominent), and nothing happens for swaths of pages at a time. Suspense builds slowly toward an abrupt climax. Indeed, action does come to Hayden, but it takes its time getting there. (May)

Scott concludes her popular Boudica series with a haunting tale of healing and war set in the summer of A.D. 60 in Roman-occupied Britannia, where the native tribes have raised a 5,000-strong war party for a "war of liberation." But their leader, Breaca of the Eceni—also known as Boudica, the Warrior Queen—is still recovering from a savage flogging she received from the Romans, and from her daughter Graine's gang rape by legionaries that she faults herself for not preventing. Breaca laments that she's "lost her taste for war," but agrees to lead the rebellion. When the Roman governor sends two legions to assault the Eceni bastion of Mona, Breaca ambushes and destroys the legion left behind before burning Camulodunum, Rome's capital in Britannia. With the east in rebellion, the Romans abandon the assault on Mona and march east for a decisive showdown that will determine Britannia's future. There's less suspense than might be imagined since history records the outcome of the Boudica's rebellion, but the Boudica legend—as opposed to the historical record—allows Scott enough poetic license to keep readers intrigued to the sanguinary end. Boudica fans will be heartened to know that Scott is considering a prequel. (May)

Multimillion-seller Coelho (The Devil and Miss Prym, etc.) returns with another uncanny fusion of philosophy, religious miracle and moral parable. The Portobello of the title is London's Portobello Road, where Sherine Khalil, aka Athena, finds the worship meeting she's leading—where she becomes an omniscient goddess named Hagia Sophia—disrupted by a Protestant protest. Framed as a set of interviews conducted with those who knew Athena, who is dead as the book opens, the story recounts her birth in Transylvania to a Gypsy mother, her adoption by wealthy Lebanese Christians; her short, early marriage to a man she meets at a London college (one of the interviewees); her son Viorel's birth; and her stint selling real estate in Dubai. Back in London in the book's second half, Athena learns to harness the powers that have been present but inchoate within her, and the story picks up as she acquires a "teacher" (Deidre O'Neill, aka Edda, another interviewee), then disciples (also interviewed), and speeds toward a spectacular end. Coelho veers between his signature criticism of modern life and the hydra-headed alternative that Athena taps into. Athena's earliest years don't end up having much plot, but the second half's intrigue sustains the book. (May)

This spellbinding tale of magic and seduction from Mostert (Windwalker) shows that the unfettered pursuit of arcane enlightenment can sometimes come at too high a price. William Whittington, a terminally ill London investment banker, hires Gabriel Blackstone, a rakish "information broker," to find Robert, his missing 21-year-old son. Whittington's wife, who happens to be Blackstone's ex-girlfriend, knows Blackstone once belonged to an organization, Eyestorm, that used psychic methods to find missing objects and persons. When Blackstone draws on his remote viewing powers ("slamming the ride"), he discovers that Robert was murdered by one of two sisters—raven-haired Morrighan or flame-haired Minnaloushe Monk, direct descendants of Elizabethan occultist John Dee, who dabble in alchemy and the "Art of Memory." As Blackstone woos the suspects to discover which one is guilty, he falls desperately in love. Mostert, a South African writer now living in London, has produced a feverish tale that's goth SF at its finest. (Apr.)

Former McCall's editor-in-chief Koslow features in her mellow roman à clef Magnolia Gold, who gets booted out of her magazine kingdom, but lands on stilettos that "you could almost mistake for Manolos." Magnolia, editor-in-chief of Lady magazine, has her dream job, a Cartier watch and a fab New York apartment, but Lady's publisher and parent company president cozy up to gauche celebrity Bebe Blake and decide—against Magnolia's warnings that Bebe will alienate the mag's "red state Republican" readership—to turn Lady into Bebe and demote Magnolia to "corporate editor," a bogus position that's soon eliminated. (Bebe may remind readers of Rosie O'Donnell, who assumed Koslow's duties at McCall's once it was relaunched as Rosie.) As Bebe ravages the magazine, a down-and-out Magnolia orchestrates her return while she and best friend Abbey run through their share of nonstarter men. Abbey finds Mr. Right, and just as things are looking their bleakest for romantically and professionally flailing Magnolia, lightning strikes twice. Koslow's take on behind-the-scenes maneuvering will keep readers turning the pages of her debut, but her soft-focus on glossy magazine publishing (the same mani-pedis, shopping diversions and expensive meals circuit that have been catalogued elsewhere) feels reserved: the villains aren't especially vile, and the goodies are very goodly—call it a red state The Devil Wears Prada. (Apr.)

A clever graphic element enlivens this solid serial-killer novel from Santolofer, a visual artist and author of three previous art-themed thrillers (The Killing Art, etc.). Nate Rodriguez, a talented NYPD police sketch artist, appears to have psychic abilities when it comes to visualizing perpetrators. When Nate sketches portraits, the drawings are reproduced in the text. Nate joins detective Terri Russo on a case in which the killer, a white supremacist who takes his deadly orders directly from God, leaves his own drawings at the crime scenes (also reproduced). Nate turns to his Puerto Rican grandmother, a santera ("a sort of neighborhood priestess"), for help. Together, they come up with drawings that point to a suspect closer to home than any of them have imagined. Plot devices include a trail of red herring clues that threaten to implicate Nate, overbearing FBI agents and a female-in-peril chase scene at the end, while the romantic relationship that develops between Nate and Terri leaves room for more to come. (Apr.)

Holocaust memoirist Levi (1919–1987) also wrote small fiction sketches, reminiscent of contemporaries Dino Buzzatti and Italo Calvino, for periodicals, collected here and introduced by Goldstein. Of two realistic pieces that recall The Periodic Table and Survival in Auschwitz, one concerns the last minute in the life of a resistance fighter whose act against his German captors would today be called a suicide bombing. Transparent political allegories, of the kind that were fashionable in the Cold War period up to the late '60s, predominate. In the slighter of the 17 works, a miraculous paint is developed to replace lucky charms, and a Mad Max–like look at sports of the future describes tourneys conducted between men armed with hammers and cars. "The Molecule's Defiance" concerns the inexplicable spoiling of a batch of synthetic chemical, eerie in its description of a monstrous, gelatinizing mass expanding rapidly in a reactor, as though revolting against its human makers. While these pieces (published in Italian from 1949 to 1986) don't really stand on their own, they shed further light on Levi's life and work. (Apr.)

Hand (Mortal Love) explores the narrow boundary between artistic genius and madness in this gritty, profoundly unsettling literary thriller. Cass "Scary" Neary, a self-destructive photographer, enjoyed her 15 minutes of fame snapping shots of the punk scene's most squalid moments. Now forgotten and aging gracelessly, Cass gets a shot at rehabilitation when a friend assigns her to interview Aphrodite Kamestos, a photographer from the fringe of the '60s counterculture, whose morbid vision influenced Cass herself. On remote Paswegas Island off the coast of Maine, Cass finds a dissipated and surly Aphrodite who sees in Cass the darkest aspects of herself. Worse, Cass discovers that a remnant of a commune Aphrodite helped found has taken her bleak aesthetic to the next level in an effort to penetrate mysteries of life and death. Cass is a complex and thoroughly believable character who behaves selfishly—sometimes despicably—yet still compels reader sympathy. The novel's final chapters, in which Cass confronts a horrifying embodiment of the extremes to which her own artistic inclinations could lead, are a terror tour-de-force that testify to the power of great fiction to disturb and provoke. (Apr.)

In this short, tense and brutally eloquent thriller from Japanese author Murakami (In the Miso Soup), Kawashima Masayuki, a young urban professional, faces the terrible fear he will stab his baby daughter, Rie, just as he once stabbed the stripper he lived with when he was 19. He decides killing a young prostitute will alleviate the building pressure inside him and protect both Rie and his sweet wife, Yoko. He plans everything meticulously, but what he doesn't bargain for is that his intended victim, Sanada Chiaki, an s&m worker, is as disturbed as he is. During their appointment, Chiaki experiences a "Nightmare" episode that results in a twisted game of cat-and-mouse. Murakami doesn't waste a word or a movement in this near-haiku of a tale that's breathless with anxiety and fraught with pain. (Apr.)

In this ambitious, meticulous thriller, Pfarrer's first novel, set in 1967, CIA officer Paul Hoyle travels to Bolivia to participate in an operation to eliminate the leftist revolutionary Che Guevara. As Hoyle descends deeper and deeper into a web of suspect alliances and unsavory types, he begins to have doubts about his mission. His admiration for Guevara is one problem. Another comes in the form of a romance with Maria Agular, who works for a government ministry. Unfortunately, this romance never rises above cliché ("not only did they delight in making love, they enjoyed each other's company"). Far more convincing is Guevara's relationship with his lover "Tania" (Heidi Tamara Vünke). Pfarrer, an ex-Navy Seal and author of the memoir Warrior Soul, is unwilling or unable to give the iconic figure of Guevara a personal life that feels lived in or comfortable. Still, the action moves forward at a brisk pace, and the research never overwhelms the reader. If the novel falters somewhat in the last pages, it's precisely because of the failure to fully imagine Guevara the private individual. (Apr.)

Sick sea turtles and a sharply drawn cast mark Monroe's hardcover debut, an inspirational tale of redemption and, naturally, the power of love. Single mom Toy Sooner has two loves: her daughter, Lovie, and sea turtles, so when sick sea turtles wash up near Charleston, S.C ., one summer and overwhelm the area's resources for turtle aid, Toy is tapped by the president of the aquarium where she works to land a grant for setting up a turtle hospital. This means long nights of work alongside fetching aquarium director Ethan Legare. Their evenings at Toy's home (where Ethan gets on splendidly with Lovie) stir Toy's dormant emotions. Meanwhile, Toy's friends wrestle with their own issues—aging, infertility, money problems, postdivorce blues. After Toy's grant is approved, she is put in charge of the turtle hospital and things are pretty swell—until Lovie's father, Darryl, suddenly reappears, intent on playing a role in Lovie's life. Toy is torn, and trouble is in the offing. A crisis hits very late in the book, giving the narrative a lopsided feel. Though billed as the sequel to Beach House (2002), the novel stands on its own and will likely widen Monroe's readership. (Apr.)

Bestseller Fielding (Mad River Road) delivers another dependably entertaining thriller. When Sandy Crosbie and her physician husband, Ian, move to Torrance, Fla. (pop. 4,160), from Rochester, N.Y., to make a new start, Sandy quickly discovers that the real new start is Ian's affair with "Barbie clone" Kerri Franklin, whom he met on an Internet chat line. Sandy, who's irritatingly docile about being deserted, trudges forward, getting a job teaching at the local high school and keeping an eye on her two teenage children, Megan and Tim. The author convincingly portrays the Crosbie siblings and other students, while examining in more depth than some readers might prefer teenage angst and puppy love. A popular girl, Liana Martin, disappears and her body later turns up in a swamp. Amid the offstage drama of the school play rehearsals, Sandy's painful blind date and Ian's affair, tension builds and cracks appear within and among local residents. Every few chapters, the anonymous killer offers an entry, which adds to the suspense, though the generous time spent with our mystery villain takes some of the kick out of the ending. (Apr.)

Bestseller Michaels's Sisterhood series (Vendetta, etc.) goes out with a bang and a wink as the Virginia vigilantes—Myra, Kathryn, Alexis, Isabelle, Nikki and Anna—seek justice for Yoko Akia, a young florist. Yoko wants to punish her father, who bought, impregnated and discarded her teenage mother, who died after giving birth to her. The lethal ladies are shocked to discover Yoko's dad is none other than Michael Lyons, an award-winning film star with another nasty secret: he's been buying and selling Asian women as sex slaves to prominent businessmen. The Sisterhood's fearless male cohorts, notably Myra's pal, Charles Martin, a former British secret agent, lend assistance, but in the end the female vigilantes must confront Lyons in L.A. on their own with two nosy reporters hot on their trail. Some industrial strength glue comes in quite handy. Michaels rewrites the rules of the revenge game to include a clever—if improbable—escape clause. (Apr.)

In Torday's winningly absurdist debut, Dr. Alfred Jones feels at odds with his orderly life as a London fisheries scientist and husband to the career-driven Mary, with whom he shares a coldly dispassionate relationship. Just as Mary departs for a protracted assignment in Geneva, Alfred gets consulted on a visionary sheik's scheme to introduce salmon, and salmon-angling, to the country of Yemen. Alfred is deeply skeptical (salmon are cold-water fish that spawn in fresh water; Yemen is hot and largely desert), but the project gains traction when Peter Maxwell, the prime minister's director of communications, seizes on it as a PR antidote to negative press related to the Iraq war. Alfred is pressed by his superiors to meet with the sheik's real estate rep, the glamorous young Harriet, and embarks on a yearlong journey to realize the sheik's vision of spiritual peace through fly-fishing for the people of Yemen. British businessman and angler Torday captures Alfred's emerging humanity, Maxwell's antic solipsism, Mary's calculating neediness and Harriet's vulnerability, presenting their voices through diaries, e-mails, letters and official interviews conducted after the doomed venture's surprisingly tragic outcome. (Apr.)

Following up on two earlier story collections (The Circles I Move In and Very Much Like Desire) and a novel (Radiant Hunger), Lefer offers a sunshine noir's-worth of uneasy left coast tales. "At the Site Where Vision Is Most Perfect" documents what happens when a longtime Van Nuys resident is detained by immigration officials and becomes a victim of, and witness to, brutish acts of racism committed in the name of homeland security; that she is a Mexican woman named Clifford Pearlstein is just one of the ironic details Lefer uses to heighten the contradictions. A zoo worker's morbidly compelling description of transporting an antelope head drives "Alas, Falada!" while the narrator of "Angle and Grip," who is reeling from a miscarriage and from the death of her husband in a freak accident, signs on to a neighbor's plan to manufacture and sell "love dolls": "Apparently I said something about men being dolls, all manufactured in the same fucked up factory and damaged beyond repair." Lefer's staccato prose adds urgency to her suburban grotesques, giving a disquieting look at everyday lives that make little progress in transit. (Apr.)

Hardin, best known as a New York University political theorist (Indeterminacy and Society) checks in with his third work of fiction, a grounded look at New York's postwar classical music world. Dmitri Esterhaats, half-Jewish with a paternal Hungarian grandfather, has gone from precocious child pianist in Lenin-era Kiev to refugee-in-hiding with his Menshevik parents in Amsterdam to teenage New York immigrant in the 1930s. By 16, he's accompanying Sofia Milano, a soprano of uncertain age who initiates him into performance, musically and otherwise. After their long international tour (which ends acrimoniously), Dmitri is drafted into WWII, where he becomes a personal musician to a music-loving colonel. At 30, his uncompromising nature, high standards and extreme reticence eventually bring him to a beautiful Hungarian woman, Jelly Ujfalussy, and to violinist Linda Ney, who is as intense as he. What Hardin is after is immigrant relationships forged in the competitive furnace of postwar American classical music performance. A love of classical music is required to understand in depth all of what takes place, Dmitri is little more than a cipher, and some of the dialogue is joltingly stock. But Dmitri serves nicely as a medium for Hardin's passionate imaginings of a microculture in flux. (Apr.)

The gift for character and architectonics Mann displays in his riveting film bios (including Kate) gets stripped out of his third pulpy Provincetown novel, following Where the Boys Are (2003). Mann switches focus from pop novelist Jeff O'Brien and hotelier Lloyd Griffith (longtime companions) to another Provincetown hottie, Jeff's best friend, Henry Weiner, whose complex trek from geek to hustler was a feature of the last book. Henry's a "washashore," as the locals call those who come to Provincetown to live year-round—adrift, restless, always on the prowl—and is managing Nirvana, the popular guesthouse co-owned by Jeff and Lloyd. Over the course of a Provincetown summer, Henry searches for Mr. Right, meeting and bedding a parade of sexy men: Luke is a sly, possibly psychotic would-be novelist who picks up Henry to get to Jeff; Martin is impossibly old at 45; Gale refuses to drop his pants on the first date; Shane, Henry's ex-, returns with a ring on his finger. Mann gets off some funny lines and smiles wryly on the longings of his characters. There's also a nice side plot in Jeff's nine-year-old nephew-ward JR, who struggles with his latent heterosexuality. Henry's odyssey, however, isn't sustaining, and the resolution falls flat. (Apr.)

In this entertaining sequel to No Quarter, the debut installment of Campbell's Matty Graves series of historical novels, the intrepid nautical hero, newly promoted to acting lieutenant aboard the navy schooner Rattle-Snake, finds himself out of his depth on terra firma. It's 1826, and Commodore Cyrus Gaswell, a family friend and patron to the 17-year-old Graves, dispatches the lieutenant to San Domingo to investigate a rumored plot by Toussaint L'Ouverture to expand his successful slave rebellion to the United States. Once on shore, Graves hooks up with a colorful cast of shady characters: Alonzo Connor, "a gentleman of color" who claims to represent the U.S. War Department; Connor's black secretary, George Franklin; the Parson, a shadowy figure identified with "the White Hand," a racist society committed to removing all nonwhites from America; and Juge, a soldier in Toussaint's army who serves as Graves's guide. None are whom they claim, and they're all soon caught up in a deadly local struggle—the War of Knives. With only a bare-bones historical foundation, Campbell constructs an elaborate swashbuckling tale that will appeal especially to fans of high historical adventure. (Apr.)

In this uneven sequel to Eleanor Rushing (1995), Eleanor is as entertaining as ever—her delusions about the intentions of her friends and acquaintances are painful and endearing—but is perhaps the wrong narrator to drop into post-Katrina New Orleans. Born and bred in the Crescent City, Eleanor is still waiting to be united with the married Maxim Walters and clinging to the belief that her parents died in a plane crash (and not in the car crash that left her face scarred), but she soon abandons her devotion to Maxim to pursue physical perfection ("z-plasty" on her face, breast augmentation, a fateful and ill-considered liposuction) and the sexy plastic surgeon, Dr. Ricky Kimball, whom she meets at a fund-raiser. Their love affair, however, lacks the intensity of her earlier, deranged one-sided fixation on Maxim. When Hurricane Katrina hits, the novel arrives at its emotional core: Eleanor is intent on riding out the storm, but she and a few other holdouts (including her housekeeper and confidant, Naomi) are forced to evacuate as the city floods. Eleanor's bittersweet homecoming lacks resonance, and though she is undeniably damaged, her self-inflicted ruin isn't the right metaphor for a demolished city. (Apr.)

Last seen in bestseller Hoag's Dark Horse, Elena Estes, a former undercover cop turned PI, is devastated at the start of this captivating thriller when she realizes a body she finds in a south Florida canal is that of her friend Irina Markova, a beautiful groom with whom she once worked at a horse stable. Assisted by ex-lover Det. James Landry, the tough-as-nails Elena immerses herself in Irina's murder investigation. One of the suspects happens to be Bennett Walker, the ex-fiancé Elena hasn't seen in 20 years, who was previously tried and acquitted of rape and attempted murder despite her testimony against him. The suspense builds when Elena learns that Bennett is a member of the Alibi Club, a group of wealthy Palm Beach "bad boys" who cover for each other when trouble befalls them. Elena believes she can trust no one, especially after Russian mobster Alexi Kulak insists that Elena help him unearth Irina's killer. Elena, who eschewed her elitist Palm Beach family to preserve her integrity, is a heroine readers will want to see more of. (Mar. 27)

In Edgar-winner Housewright's uneven fourth crime-solving adventure for Rushmore McKenzie (after 2006's Pretty Girl Gone), the Twin Cities ex-cop turned millionaire blunders into a crime scene featuring a strung-out, blood-spattered Merodie Davies and the rotting corpse of her alcoholic boyfriend, who had been decaying in her filthy home for two weeks. A belligerent rookie cop throws McKenzie in jail for defending Merodie's rights, and when he's released, Merodie's attorney taps McKenzie to help clear her of the murder charges. Though McKenzie doesn't have a PI license, he agrees to help, hoping the investigation will distract him from his romantic travails and a recurring nightmare about a shooting that went horribly wrong. He discovers Merodie has an alarming string of dead boyfriends, plus a live one—a very nasty drug dealer—fresh out of jail. McKenzie's sleuthing prompts some shocking confessions and leads to a creepy but unsatisfying resolution. Housewright can't decide whether to go for the laughs or the chills in this installment. (May)

The 19th Amos Walker mystery (after 2006's Nicotine Kiss) confirms that Estleman's long-running contemporary hard-boiled hero deserves a place in the genre pantheon with such better-known figures as Raymond Chandler's classic gumshoe, Philip Marlowe, and Robert Parker's Boston PI, Spenser. Walker is hired by Darius Fuller, a legendary retired Detroit Tigers pitcher facing substantial financial pressure from the IRS. Fuller's daughter Deirdre is several weeks away from gaining access to her $2 million trust fund, and her father fears that her sleazy boyfriend, Hilary Bairn, is wooing her just to get her money. Before Walker can fulfill his assignment to attempt to bribe Bairn to back off, Deirdre is found dead in Bairn's apartment, a death that may be connected to a smuggling ring and a local gangster. Estleman's prose is as gritty and compelling as ever as he lets fly razor-sharp dialogue, brings the Motor City to life and combines a whodunit plot with traditional noir action. (Apr.)

In Westlake's diverting 13th John Dortmunder novel (after 2004's Watch Your Back!), the hapless crook gets blackmailed into trying to pull off an impossible heist—stealing a gold chess set originally intended as a gift for the last czar of Russia, but picked up by some U.S. soldiers who were part of an anti-Soviet expeditionary force in 1919–1920 and now kept secure in a midtown Manhattan basement vault while various parties dispute its ownership. Dortmunder makes little progress in the book's first half, until he figures out a way to prompt an inquiry that leads to the chess set's being transported downtown—to a location that proves far from secure. As usual, Westlake provides amusing, at times dim-witted dialogue, particularly among the regulars at O.J.'s Bar & Grill on Amsterdam Avenue, and a cast of appealing if often inept cops and robbers. Not every loose end may be tied up, but the ironic resolution will leave both series fans and newcomers satisfied. (Apr.)

Violent crime and long-buried intrigue disrupt the peace of Pecan Springs, Tex., home of herb shop owner China Bayles, in the piquant 16th entry in Albert's southwestern cozy series (after 2006's Bleeding Hearts). China's pleasant routines are first disrupted by the travails of her business partner, Ruby, who's apparently been stood up by her unreliable boyfriend, an ex-narc. Then China's recently discovered half brother, Miles Danforth, an attorney, insists on reopening the ice-cold case of their father's death in a car accident 16 years earlier. Miles has uncovered correspondence that their father feared for his life before he died, and recruits the help of China's husband, Mike McQuaid, a former Houston homicide detective turned PI. But China faces a much warmer corpse when she and her friend Carole discover a bloody body by the railroad tracks where they go to gather yucca. Albert's fans will savor recipes such as Texas tarragon vinegar and lemon-mint tea concentrate, plus botanical trivia. (Apr.)

Roe's first entry in a planned series of English horse-racing mysteries isn't exactly a non-starter, but it doesn't belong in the same field as the novels of former champion jockey Dick Francis. The competent if complicated plot involves unidentified, powerful foes employing a variety of violent and underhanded tricks to undermine the success of County View, a racing complex in the Cotswolds (with international ancillary operations) run by ex-jockey turned trainer Jay Jessop and wife, Eva. The Jessops have plenty of their own formidable, wealthy backing, and when it becomes apparent they're being targeted, they take countermeasures almost immediately. The most obvious threat is the entrance of a relatively unknown Irish trainer, Quentin O'Connor, who begins to lure away owners' horses from County View by paying extravagant prices. Nothing illegal in that, but worrisome nonetheless. Worse follows, but Roe (A Touch of Vengeance) fails to ignite his understated narrative, despite his impressive, knowledgeable descriptions of race courses and procedures. (Apr.)

Swedish author Tursten's taut third contemporary police procedural (after 2006's The Torso) opens with a compelling setup: after Det. Insp. Irene Huss and her team find Jacob Schyttelius, a divorced teacher, shot to death in his isolated cottage, his computer monitor marked with a bloody Satanic symbol, they visit his parents, Sten and Elsa, only to find them dead as well and with the same markings on their computer. The data on both machines was erased professionally, and the only viable lead, Jacob's London-based sister, Rebecka, is too devastated by the dual tragedy to offer much assistance. Huss focuses her inquiry on Sten, a minister who had been investigating a local Satanist movement, in the belief that he may have been killed in revenge. The solution is both logical and depressing. Tursten does her usual solid job of populating the novel with credible, flawed characters and bringing to life modern Swedish society. (Apr.)

At the start of Raphael's entertaining seventh Nick Hoffman mystery (after 2004's Tropic of Murder), the State University of Michigan English professor stumbles on a corpse in a steam room—Vlado Zamaria, the ruthless head trainer at the Michigan Muscle health club. Nick and his pal, Juno Dromgoole, team up once again to ferret out the killer, for whom there's no shortage of suspects: Vlado's bland, dutiful wife plus a plethora of actual and wanna-be lovers and jealous trainers. Nick manages a too-easy sneak peek into Zamaria's unlocked office, finding secrets that eventually reveal the murderer. He half-seriously considers becoming a private eye, much to the chagrin of his lover, Stefan Borowski, who has been stewing in his own troubles. The many amusing and eclectic literary references that alternate with salacious gossip and humorous philosophical rants partially compensate for the novel's lack of tension and action. (Apr.)

The excellent 12th entry in Akashic's city-specific noir series illustrates the diversity of the chosen locale with 18 previously unpublished short stories from authors both well known (Laura Lippman, Barbara Hambly) and emerging (Kalamu Ya Salaam, Jeri Cain Rossi). Appropriately, Smith divides the book into pre- and post-Katrina sections, and many of the more powerful tales describe the disaster's hellish aftermath. Standouts in the first section, "Before the Levees Broke," include Laura Lippman's short, twisted tale of victims and victimizers, "Pony Girl," and Tim McLoughlin's "Scared Rabbit," a tight, punchy account of a police shooting. Among the contributions to the post-Katrina "Life in Atlantis" section, Thomas Adcock's gritty crime tale, "Lawyers' Tongues," captures the chaos of the hurricane's wake with notable skill. (Apr.)

Simon's 1977 "translation" of the Necronomicon exploited the name and legend of H.P. Lovecraft's invented book, but bore little resemblance to what Lovecraft's readers had come to expect. Now in this "history," memoir and answer to his critics, the author tries to have it both ways: his was not the Lovecraftian Necronomicon, but another work of blasphemous elder lore with the same title. Possibly Lovecraft had heard of it, Simon suggests. We are also asked to believe that the volume, like the Lovecraftian original, has a long and sinister history, including links to the Son of Sam murders, assorted suicides, the New York occult scene and even the World Trade Center attack. Lacking is any evidence that this is other than the work of the author's imagination. While the result may be of interest to students of the occult, it has little to offer to fantasy readers or Lovecraft fans. (May)

At the start of this riveting launch of a new far-future SF series from Kenyon (Tropic of Creation), a disastrous mishap during interstellar space travel catapults pilot Titus Quinn with his wife, Johanna Arlis, and nine-year-old daughter, Sydney, into a parallel universe called the Entire. Titus makes it back to this dimension, his hair turned white, his memory gone, his family presumed dead and his reputation ruined with the corporation that employed him. The corporation (in search of radical space travel methods) sends Titus (in search of Johanna and Sydney) back through the space-time warp. There, he gradually, painfully regains knowledge of its rulers, the cruel, alien Tarig; its subordinate, Chinese-inspired humanoid population, the Chalin; and his daughter's enslavement. Titus's transformative odyssey to reclaim Sydney reveals a Tarig plan whose ramifications will be felt far beyond his immediate family. Kenyon's deft prose, high-stakes suspense and skilled, thorough world building will have readers anxious for the next installment. (Apr.)

One of the most popular writers to publish in Weird Tales, Smith wrote unique tales of fantasy, horror and science fiction that call to mind the Symbolist and Decadent movements more than the pulp era. This volume, the first of five scheduled to bring all his short fiction back into print, captures Smith at the point where he back-burnered his career as a poet to concentrate on crafting stories in which the erotic mingles with death and decay and the physically grotesque is rendered in sensually lush imagery. Most of the 25 works collected have been unavailable for decades, and editors Connors and Hilger have done yeoman service restoring them for readers who may find their bold expressiveness and occasionally taboo themes surprisingly modern. (Apr.)

In this breathless page-turner, the latest in the Posleen military SF series from Ringo and Kratman (Watch on the Rhine), Latin America falls to the reptilian alien invaders without much struggle, except for Panama. There, members of the U.S. military enlist local forces and desperately resist. The terrain aids the defenders, as do the local flora and fauna, but it's the fighting men and women's brains and guts that make the real difference. Interestingly, the hideous, hungry Posleen, who are helplessly following their racial instincts, come across as more sympathetic than the cowardly traitors—i.e., diplomats and politicians—who obstruct the human warriors; the aliens get to die with more dignity. Characterization generally is exaggerated but vivid, and the battle tactics are worked out in satisfying detail. Readers who can forget the authors' right-wing politics and approach it all like a professional wrestling show will have fun. (Apr.)

The 16 stories in this retrospective volume from World Fantasy Award–winner Waldrop tend to be more sober and less zany than those in his previous collection, Heart of Whitenesse (2005). Highlights include "The Lions Are Asleep This Night," a touching alternate history of a would-be playwright set in Africa; "French Scenes," in which Francophiles make movies using computers; and "Household Words or the Powers That Be," a tale Dickens fans are sure to love. Less successful are the obvious "Heirs of the Perisphere," with its Disneyesque characters, and the dated "Flying Saucer Rock and Roll," which was probably more funny when it was first published in 1985. Blurbs from Lucius Shepard, George R.R. Martin, Cory Doctorow and Connie Willis should give a boost. (Apr.)

The conclusion to Potter's 16th century-set Scottish Highland Trilogy (following Beloved Stranger) gives proof to what her fans may already know: Potter keeps getting better with every outing. Sparkling with high seas drama and tender romance, the story of the eldest Maclean brother, Patrick, opens six years into his imprisonment aboard a Spanish slave ship. Following Patrick's plan, he and his fellow oarsmen successfully mutiny, putting him on the route home to Scotland, where he can find out what's become of his family and claim his inheritance. His plan is complicated, however, when he discovers two women among the passengers: the ship owner's daughter, Juliana Mendoza, and her maid, Carmita. Honor-bound to protect them despite his searing hatred for Juliana's father, Patrick keeps the two from the rapacious designs of the other mutineers. Initially distrustful, they're both awakened, soon enough, to the kindness and bravery in each other. Upon reaching Scotland, both have given themselves over to mutual passion, despite Juliana's impending nuptials to a powerful English viscount, a union she can only abandon by imperiling her mother. Potter has an expert ability to invest in fully realized characters and a strong sense of place without losing momentum in the details, making this novel a pure pleasure. (Apr.)

Gaffney's latest installment in the exploits of defense attorneys Zach Wilson and Terry Tallach manages to make good on the promise of its explosive opening—no small task, as page one finds Zach with mere seconds to save a crowded courtroom—including his seven-year-old son—from the scattered shots of a raving gunman. As time ticks down in short snippets, lengthy flashbacks depict the hunt for a newly resurfaced serial killer thought imprisoned decades ago. While Zach and partner Terry investigate the convict originally held responsible for the crimes, a former suspect and his daughter cope with the media spotlight, retrained on them following the new round of killings, and what may be the watchful gaze of the killer himself. Despite some bland dialogue and generic, B-movie-ready characters—wise-cracking buddy lawyers, a riddling serial killer, an enigmatic crime boss—Gaffney jerks the plot in enough different directions to keep readers alert and entertained. In addition, Gaffney's dry wit and willingness to make light of his more absurd plot twists keep this over-the-top stunner afloat when it threatens to capsize. The legal thriller equivalent of a James Bond flick, this guilty pleasure is best enjoyed with the more discerning half of the brain turned off and the adrenaline turned all the way up. (Apr.)

Living human skin is the latest designer fabric, mobile phones call the dead and genetics corporations manufacture headless livestock for the butcher in the latest dispatch from Thomas's Punktown, a vividly realized, ultra-bleak off-world cityscape, in which bloody terror and sci-fi spectacle meld to ferocious effect. The central plot—from which there are a number of strange digressions—concerns Jeremy Stake, an interdimensional war veteran and private eye who's constantly aggravated by his involuntary, Zelig-like ability to mimic those around him. His latest assignment is to track down a missing one-of-a-kind bio-doll manufactured specially for a genetics tycoon's daughter—a toy that isn't quite as defenseless as its teenage owner presumes. When describing the intricacies of Punktown's macabre culture, Thomas's prose sizzles, but the setup proves largely superfluous to the narrative, propelled by splatter-happy action and firefight climaxes, along with occasionally stilted exposition regarding extradimensional deities. Those hoping for a provocative exploration of the ethical dilemmas posed by Punktown's morbid culture—the sale of living female torsos to brothels, for example—will be disappointed. For a wild ride, however, readers will be hard-pressed to find a better vehicle than Thomas's bizarre multiverse; fans of cyberpunk noir and Lovecraftian horror will find much to enjoy in this messy, bravura hybrid. (Apr.)

In Romeo and Juliet Mercutio compared drugs to Queen Mab, queen of the faeries. In this new graphic novel, rebellious teenager Linda finds out how literal that comparison is. Linda's father has left, and her mother crawled into a bottle months ago and hasn't crawled out. Linda drags a friend out clubbing and plans to "say yes to everything." She meets the magnetic Verian who shows her a whole new high—mixing her blood with heroin. It's only when he takes her to "the border" that she realizes Verian and his friends are from Faerie, and she's unknowingly put herself in the middle of a civil war between Queen Mab and her usurper, Titania. Bolton's fully painted panels are vivid and alluring, at their best when showing the twisted land of Faerie. Carey's story gives equal time to human emotions and the more decadent world of magic and fantasy. Carey (Crossing Midnight, Lucifer) and Bolton (Fables: 1001 Nights of Snowfall, The Furies) revisit territory already familiar from such series as The Books of Magic, but put enough new spins on it to make this a treat for any fan of the fantastic. (Apr.)

An intelligent, cynically delicious sendup of pop-tart culture, this manga follows the career of Tina Young, musical superstar, as she trills and twirls her way through the teen-pop stratosphere. With a wickedly penetrating eye, writer Campbell distills the essence of contemporary teen superstardom, leading his protagonist through all of those milestones that have become de rigueur for any self-respecting flavor of the month. The reader races along as Tina reunites with her first band—the one she's now so much bigger than—to put on a philanthropic concert; Tina's brainstorm is to recite the names of African countries to promote "geographical awareness." She moves on to date a bad boy named Chaddy G. and stars in his video, doing serious damage to her claim that she's still a virgin. Paralleling Christina/Britney, Tina's obsessed with the career of her arch-rival, Bit Fencer—although this story arc takes second place to Campbell's set pieces sending up loony fandom and Internet rankings as a measure of success. Mebberson's frothy, surprisingly elegant art is shojo gone upscale; her panels and perspective are inventive while still incorporating the chic clothing and larger-than-life settings that make this rarified world such fun. (Mar.)

Rock star and indie comics savant Kochalka (Monkey vs. Robot) is back with his second collection of "sketchbook diary entries" from his popular Web comic. Some strips depict a working cartoonist's life: signings at comic book stores, teaching at the Center for Cartooning and cleaning up eraser dust before company comes over. But most are sharply observed vignettes that magically, day after day, grow into an offbeat but affecting story of family life in Burlington, Vt. Kochalka is at his best chronicling the various coughs, cold sores and warm, throbbing ear fevers he and his child contract, wondering where the cat has thrown up this time and coping with the consequences of a vow he makes never to be unhappy again. (It wasn't his fault—he got carried away while shoveling extra-fluffy snow.) Kolchaka's art takes advantage of the fact that these strips are supposed to be entries in a "sketchbook diary." It's rough and kinetic, using vivid colors and surreal figures (his best friend is a dog; an acquaintance may turn out to be a cyclops). The result is surprisingly realistic, but also versatile, able to handle poop jokes and late-night worries with equal weight. (Feb.)

September 2001, New York City: in the space of a few days Jensen loses his girlfriend, his apartment, his job, his grandmother and a local landmark. He decides to buy an Ameripass on Greyhound and travel around America by bus for the next two months, staying with people he knows only via the Internet, in a bid to find himself... or at least the secret of life. Instead of any such easy tropes, Jensen finds "the common man" of today—an America of decent enough Gen-X and Gen-Y slackers. This graphic novel is mostly their little oddball stories—a woman whose co-worker wears her aborted fetus as a necklace; a childhood quest for Bigfoot that turns up a bum; a sloppy roommate from hell. Jensen's own quest is mostly a litany of uncomfortable bus rides and the constant need for a shower. His journey is portrayed as surprisingly mundane except for a surreal stop in a Southern town whose residents amuse themselves by pulling flaming sofas behind trucks. Jensen resists all attempts at sentimentality; similarly, the rough, blocky art makes no pretense at beauty for its own sake, but gets across these sympathetic, quirky tales with brisk efficiency. (Feb.)