Emma Mapson, a busy single mom, expects that the summer season will be a little crazy, with her teenage daughter, Penny, out of school and the touristy crowds flooding the American Hotel where she works. But to Emma's shock, this summer becomes wildly different from any other Sag Harbor, N.Y., summer. First, celebrated artist Henry Wyatt, who had been helping Penny with her dreams of writing a graphic novel, dies in the lobby of the American Hotel. Then, Emma discovers that Henry left his vast beachside mansion to her daughter.

But Henry's business partner and friend of decades, Bea Winstead, turns up, claiming that Penny and Emma must have tricked Henry into leaving the house to them, because he'd always planned to have it turned into a museum for his artwork after his death. Bea battles Emma for the house, and Emma worries about Penny, whose OCD has gotten markedly worse in the wake of Henry's death. In the background, the idyllic Sag Harbor setting provides the perfect relaxing counterpoint to the tension in Emma's life.

Readers of Elin Hilderbrand or Nancy Thayer are sure to love Drawing Home, a charming entry in the heartwarming beach read canon. Jamie Brenner (The Forever Summer, The Husband Hour) has created a slew of likable, flawed characters, all struggling to handle their grief at Henry's death and figure out his apparently conflicting final wishes. Emma, Bea and Penny end up learning surprising lessons about themselves and each other as the summer unfolds. --Jessica Howard, bookseller at Bookmans, Tucson, Ariz.

In a fantasy as deftly twisted as her Wayward Children series, Nebula winner Seanan McGuire (That Ain't Witchcraft) once again demonstrates her instinct for turning sweetness into darkness.

Twin siblings Roger and Dodger reconnect during elementary school after their separation at birth, but their reunion is no Hayley Mills summer camp singalong. For one, they live on opposite coasts of the United States and communicate through an inexplicable telepathic link. For another, the twins weren't born but built and harvested in a secret lab by James Reed, who has ambitions to rule the world.

By design, Roger has great facility with language and strong powers of persuasion, while Dodger lives for mathematics and can reset the timeline of the universe. As they grow up, the twins connect psychically but are separated repeatedly. Eventually, aided by another construct whose twin was murdered, Roger and Dodger must decide whether to remain puppets or take the fight to Reed.

Alchemy and its pseudoscientific accoutrements strike the perfect balance between the mystical and the eerie in this high-concept fantasy. McGuire's penchant for snappy, character-revealing dialogue carries the day and makes the more mind-bending plot twists go down easily. References to L. Frank Baum, the Midwich Cuckoos and more recent pop culture also help to break down the sometimes dense logical structure for the reader.

As atmospheric and suspenseful as a gothic thriller, Middlegame is at heart a loving examination of the push-and-pull nature of the sibling bond, in which the parties can simultaneously be best friends, worst enemies and each other's biggest weakness. Readers should come for the tightly constructed world and stay for the pleasure of watching the twins choose each other, come what may. --Jaclyn Fulwood, blogger at Infinite Reads

Maggie Battista has tried "every diet or lifestyle plan ever invented... low fat, low carb, mostly grapefruit, and high protein." But finding that none of these cured the "desperately desperate" way she felt about her body, Battista realized that something needed to change in order for her to feel happy in her own skin. And so was born her "new way to food," a style of cooking, eating and thinking designed to reset her relationship with food altogether. Battista documents this way of eating, along with accounts of her own personal journey "from fat girl to mostly well and happy-to-just-be-me lady" in her cookbook of the same name. She's quick to point out that the book is not a diet book, but a collection of advice and suggestions to transform one's eating and one's attitudes.

Many of the dishes here are vegan, like a meatless take on Bolognese sauce and vegan chocolate chip cookies, but Battista doesn't shy away from meat altogether; there are also dishes like Steak au Poivre and Smoky Paella with Fennel. All of the recipes feature fresh, wholesome ingredients and easy-to-follow instructions, and are accompanied by notes on how often a dish might be featured in a meal plan. These recipes sit side-by-side with tips on things like how to think about healthy eating, how to revamp your pantry and your meal-planning routines and how to love yourself. This makes A New Way to Food not only a beautiful exploration of colorful, wonderful foods, but the kind of cookbook packed with enough narrative that readers will want to make time to sit down and read the whole thing cover to cover. --Kerry McHugh, blogger at Entomology of a Bookworm

Nepal native Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche (The Joy of Living) entered the monastery as an 11-year-old, and by 2011, then age 36, he found himself the abbot of three Tibetan Buddhist monasteries. Through his organization Tergar International, he was also the leader of a worldwide network of meditation communities. On June 1, 2011, under cover of darkness and without a word to his followers, he traded his privileged heritage and sheltered surroundings in a monastery in India's Bodh Gaya for the harsh existence of a solitary wandering yogi, an "ego-suicide mission" he planned to pursue for at least three years.

In Love with the World focuses on the first few profoundly consequential weeks of Mingyur Rinpoche's itinerant retreat. He vividly describes that new environment, beginning with the sensory shock of encountering life in a packed, foul-smelling coach on the train to the Hindu holy city of Varanasi, sharing his existence in an elemental way with some of the most impoverished members of Indian society.

But the heart of the book is a terrifying account of his near-death experience in Kushinagar. He is stricken with a catastrophic case of food poisoning, after dining on scraps he begs from a nearby restaurant when he spends his last rupee. As his illness deepens, he drifts in and out of consciousness, and draws upon a lifetime of intensive meditation practice to inhabit his experience. 

In Love with the World takes the reader inside the mind of a meditation master, with much the same feeling one might have listening to a world-class musician or artist describe the process of executing a complex work. --Harvey Freedenberg, freelance reviewer

Journalist Rachel Louise Snyder used to think of domestic violence as "an unfortunate fate for the unlucky few," a hardwiring gone wrong. But then an acquaintance offered a new perspective: that this is a social epidemic, one it is possible to prevent. No Visible Bruises: What We Don't Know About Domestic Violence Can Kill Us is the product of copious, immersive research, an investigation into a universal and insidious violence and what can be done about it.

Snyder presents her findings in three parts, ordered as "The End," "The Beginning" and finally "The Middle." That is, she first studies what intimate partner violence looks like at its conclusion: homicide and regrets that various systems (judicial, law enforcement, advocacy, etc.) couldn't do more. Next, she investigates the beginning of such violence. Abusers often come from abusive home environments and, along with their victims, grow up in a society that values stoicism, control and violence in men, submissiveness and emotional labor in women. "The Middle" examines how services are provided to victims of domestic violence, and what changes should be considered.

No Visible Bruises sounds like an appallingly dark read, and it's true that the content is deeply disturbing. But by focusing on case studies--individuals' stories--Snyder returns humanity to the horrifying larger issue. The result is an impressive body of knowledge about domestic violence in the United States: what it looks like, its terrifying prevalence, what works and what doesn't in trying to stem the tide. Snyder speaks with urgency about solving a problem that, however invisible, affects us all. --Julia Kastner, librarian and blogger at pagesofjulia

Jonathan Gornall has been boat- and water-obsessed for many decades, but he is the first to admit that, as a longtime chair-bound freelance journalist, his DIY skills are nil. The idea of him building anything from scratch is unlikely. But Gornall is also giddy with joy at becoming a father again at age 58. As he seeks a project sufficient to show his new daughter his love and hope for her life, the idea feels natural, even obvious: he will build her a boat.

How to Build a Boat: A Father, His Daughter, and the Unsailed Sea is a love letter to that small child, Phoebe. It is a memoir of a life on and off of water and a study of the history, art and science of boatbuilding. Gornall considers his first sea voyage (in utero, with an unwed mother who consistently claims he's ruined her life), his first experiences with boats (at boarding school) and his significant time on the ocean. Gornall has twice attempted to row across the Atlantic, with enormous press and personal pressure, and twice failed: these disappointments weigh heavily on him and contribute to the urgency to get this boating effort right.

Gornall's tone is drily funny and always self-deprecating. His research, however, is as serious as his journalistic background would suggest. The result is a deeply moving intersection of the personal with the practical. This is not quite a how-to manual, but readers with aspirations to fashion their own boat would have a headstart upon reading. If the boat is a gift to Phoebe, this book is another. --Julia Kastner, librarian and blogger at pagesofjulia

In her 2013 book Expecting Better, economist Emily Oster equipped pregnant people with the data and information they need to make informed, evidence-based decisions about their pregnancies. The book's straightforward, judgment-free presentation of the data made it a big (if somewhat controversial) hit in a world where expectant parents are bombarded with abundant, and abundantly confusing, advice.

Now, Oster is taking a natural step forward with Cribsheet, a similar guide for parents navigating the first three years of their child's life. What does the data say about when to give your newborn her first bath? Are the apparent benefits of breastfeeding more correlational than causational? Are things like co-sleeping or "crying it out" truly harmful? How do various childcare options affect developmental results? And how much "screen time" can we get away with, really?

These questions may not have clear-cut answers, but Oster can tell you exactly what the data says (and also, anecdotally, share her own wisdom as a parent of two). In addition, she will give you some insight into how trusted organizations like the American Academy of Pediatrics make their recommendations.

Crucially, Oster's goal is to present readers with a thorough but accessible and layperson-friendly analysis of the available data on a given topic, and leave the decision-making up to them. Considering how fraught, frightening and often contradictory the discourse on these topics can be, Oster's even, friendly tone is both refreshing and reassuring. --Hannah Calkins, writer and editor

Poet Emily Skaja, recipient of the Walt Whitman Award of the Academy of American Poets, writes visceral, tactile pieces about love and aggression in her first collection, Brute. These are poems of rage and tenderness, sometimes embodied in one breath and the next, but it is Skaja's attention to the natural world that surfaces again and again as the speaker's preoccupation. "It's Impossible to Keep White Moths" bursts forth into its first line to complete the thought, "from flying out of my mouth." She adds, "ravens/ lurk on the Divine Lorraine Hotel as if to say/ Always a corpse flower, never a bride."

Far from being a pastoral collection, however, Brute also dredges up the chilling betrayals of modernity as well. "No, I Do Not Want to Connect with You on LinkedIn" seethes over the cruel trespasses of an ostensibly professional acquaintance. "Trust me when I say we know all about your kind in our ranks," the poet assures him after declaring, "This here is girl country."

A mix of elegies and aubades, plus a litany of girl saints ("Dear Katie," "Dear Ruth," "Dear Emily"), Brute draws to a close over the recurring myth of Eurydice, once "just a woman walking alone/ through a field of snakes." In the end, the poet coaxes her from the underworld, "Come out into the new wet earth," breaking a cycle of death and asserting, "I will lead myself out of it."

Piece by piece, Emily Skaja builds a powerful narrative from singular marvels of imagery. --Dave Wheeler, associate editor, Shelf Awareness

After a made-for-TV sequel, a novelization and a musical adaptation on Broadway, the wildly popular 2004 teen comedy Mean Girls is now a Shakespearean play in Ian Doescher's Much Ado About Mean Girls.

Doescher (William Shakespeare's Star Wars series) remains faithful to the original script, telling the story of 16-year-old, homeschooled Cady, who has been living in Africa for the past 12 years. Now a student at an Illinois high school, Cady struggles with adapting to life outside the "Afric plains." Outcasts Janis and Damian educate her about their school's social classes, warning her against the uber-popular Plastics. When Plastics leader Regina takes an interest in Cady, her new friends encourage her to infiltrate the group. But as Cady climbs the popularity ladder, she quickly learns that it's a long fall from the top.

Doescher doesn't merely adapt the cult classic; he transforms it. He effortlessly translates scenes and dialogue from the screenplay ("I hear her hair's insured for $10,000") to Shakespearean language and meter (" 'Tis said the lady's hair is well insur'd--ten thousand ducats should it damag'd be"), maintaining its original humor while injecting some of his own. He pays homage by including lines from the Bard's plays, mostly delivered by main female characters who are all paired with a Shakespearean counterpart (according to an afterword), as well as from "extras," like a mall salesperson who quotes Love's Labour's Lost. Barton's handful of black-and-white vignettes aid in bringing together the old and new; for example, showing the Plastics' notorious "Jingle Bell Rock" costumes adorned with ruffs.

Because of Doescher's handiwork, this amalgam of storytelling forms stands on its own. Those already familiar with the film should find this Shakespearean treatment easily accessible, while Bard fans will likely relish the nods to his style and characters. --Lana Barnes, freelance reviewer and proofreader