Avery Curran's Spoiled Milk is a gothic boarding-school tale of suspense filled with small and large horrors, schoolgirl skirmishes, lust, death, and the supernatural.

In the fall of 1928, Emily Locke is settling into her final year at Briarley School for Girls in the English countryside as one of a tight-knit group of seven upper-sixth girls. Emily's family life is unhappy--not unusual among her year, but perhaps especially so--and Briarley has been her effective home since she was 11. Her very best friend, the girl she loves, is Violet. The book opens on Violet's 18th birthday, when the whole school celebrates and fawns over her. It is also the night that Violet dies. When the girls gather after the funeral for a midnight feast to honor her in their own way, they find that the freshest milk on the school grounds has inexplicably gone bad. These are the first clues that more change is afoot than the girls' coming-of-age.

With Violet gone, Emily and her remaining classmates determine to find out what happened--who or what killed her, and why the food at the school has begun to taste strange. They contact a medium in the village. They try a séance of their own. But the oddities and accidents at Briarley intensify, and their experiments with the spirit realm feel ever more life-and-death, until it seems that no one will get out of Briarley alive. Tensions rise for the small group of girls in this closed-room thriller, as petty rifts give way to serious terrors. Classic, but still surprising, Curran's first novel will satisfy gothic fans. --Julia Kastner, blogger at pagesofjulia

Love and war have much in common, such as that both can get unfathomably complicated, albeit with different levels of consequence. The Argentine-born Chilean writer Ariel Dorfman (The Suicide Museum) examines this and other themes in the satisfyingly disorienting Konfidenz, a reprint of a 1995 novel. Told mostly through dialogue, this short work begins when Barbara, a woman from an as-yet unidentified country, arrives at a hotel in Paris. Readers don't yet know who she is or what year it is. As soon as she enters her room, she receives a call from a man named Leon. He claims to be a friend of Martin, Barbara's lover. She had expected Martin to meet her, as the note summoning her claimed he was in a life-or-death situation. All Leon will tell her about Martin's absence is that "if you don't cooperate, something dreadful can happen to him."

Over several hours' worth of conversations, Leon's manner grows more insidious as he discloses further details, including the story of the men who may be after Martin and the unsettling admission that, when Martin showed him Barbara's photo, Leon recognized her as the woman who has appeared in his dreams since he was 12. As this crafty novel progresses, secrets are revealed, relationships grow clearer, and the setting becomes obvious. It's no spoiler to point out that Dorfman may be drawing parallels with his own experience as an exile. Fervor is a hallmark of love and war, as Dorfman demonstrates in this welcome reissue. --Michael Magras, freelance book reviewer

A woman is drawn into a dangerous homicide investigation by her true crime-obsessed daughter in middle-grade author Stacy Hackney's marvelous first book for adult readers, The Primrose Murder Society, a mystery with a delightful splash of satire. At its center is the challenging relationship between Lila Shaw and her 10-year-old daughter, Bea, an aspiring amateur detective, and their path toward reconciliation.

Lila's husband, Ryan, was recently indicted for fraud and fled the country. Struggling to pick up the pieces of her imploded family, Lila accepts a temporary job at the historic Primrose, an elegant apartment building for residents 55 and older in Richmond, Va. Its charming exterior exudes stability but conceals a "dark past."

Precocious and strong-willed Bea misses her father terribly and takes it out on Lila. When the enterprising fourth grader discovers a generous reward exists for solving a decades-old murder at the Primrose, she teams up with residents Evelyn, who is skilled in uncovering secrets, and Jasper, a former detective. What initially seems a harmless distraction turns sinister when a neighbor winds up dead.

Hackney's characters add hilarious color to the fast-paced action: a TikTok-watching Primrose resident sports "Alexander McQueen platform tennis shoes" and the bejeweled, imperious Evelyn wields her walker like a weapon at potential suspects. As the investigation veers into perilous directions, it becomes frighteningly clear that the only people Lila and Bea can trust are each other.

A thoroughly enjoyable read with a thrilling, unanticipated conclusion, The Primrose Murder Society leaves open the enticing possibility of a sequel. --Shahina Piyarali

Alexis Hall (Confounding Oaths) dives deep into adventure and introspection in Hell's Heart, an expansive, sexy, and vibrant retelling of Moby-Dick set in the atmosphere of Jupiter.

Flat broke and in danger of having her expensively modified body repossessed by her debtors, the narrator decides to join an expedition to hunt Leviathans. She meets a harpooner she calls "Q," a woman from a devastated Earth the narrator has heard described as the home of cannibals and criminals. The narrator is both drawn to Q and unable to understand her. The two women find employment on a ship called Pequod whose hull is fashioned of Leviathan bones. The eerie craft is captained by a one-legged woman referred to only as "A." She carries a burning obsession with taking revenge on the Möbius Beast, the vast white Leviathan she claims took her leg. Some call the creature a myth, but A quickly gains sway over the narrator and the entire crew through "the inescapable, neutron-star gravity of her," the promise of possible wealth, and to some extent through being "extraordinarily hot." The voyage brings the narrator up against terrifying beasts, dangerous people with perilous beliefs, and the deepest hells of the human heart.

Hall imbues an American classic with sharp British wit, delivering an update to Melville by way of Wilde with a modern, frequently erotic sensibility. The narrative alternates between propulsive action, uncanny world-building, and the narrator's own soul-searching, but always maintains a constant seeking ferocity at its core. This catastrophic prophecy of humanity's spacefaring future marries with scenes of feverish beauty for an imaginative and unforgettable adventure. --Jaclyn Fulwood, blogger at Infinite Reads

The 16 linked autobiographical essays of Woman House, Lauren W. Westerfield's reflective second book, examine the author's mother's life and her own in the context of women's art and health.

Westerfield (Depth Control) is the primary caregiver for her mother, who has experienced alcoholism and depression and had a string of intestinal surgeries. Westerfield ponders how family stories are remembered and retold--or not. Previous generations' addiction, dementia, and domestic violence threaten to recur. In "On Becoming," Westerfield creates faux medical records for her parents, then herself, and reveals her mother's history of rape. She traces the pathways of trauma, as problem drinking and nonconsensual sex touch her own life. Her parents' acrimonious divorce also colors how she defines herself in relation to partners in "Double Exposure" and "Sequence of Events," the two strongest pieces.

The second person is a frequent tool here for considering memories at a remove and exploring conflicting feelings. Four interludes paint lyrical scenes from different points in Westerfield's past. Covid-19 diaries ("Distance Instructions" and "Pentimento") contemplate anxiety and isolation. The collection's title comes from a series of Louise Bourgeois drawings of the female body. References to Bourgeois's work (as well as Westerfield's mother's art from the 1970s) thread through; Westerfield finds in it "a celebration and exploration of the contradictory," such as "innocence and sexuality. Freedom and constraint." She even gets a tattoo of Bourgeois's Spiral Woman in honor of the artist.

Memory and feminism are potent themes in this intricate essay collection. --Rebecca Foster, freelance reviewer, proofreader, and blogger at Bookish Beck

Abby Jimenez (Just for the Summer; Yours Truly) has created another captivating, deeply emotional novel with Say You'll Remember Me.

The story begins when Samantha Diaz, a social media manager, takes a kitten she found in a woodpile to possibly the hottest veterinarian ever. But Dr. Xavier Rush says something Samantha finds incredibly hurtful: he repeatedly recommends euthanasia, because the surgery the kitten needs costs far more than Samantha can afford. Determined to prove Xavier wrong, Samantha crowdfunds the money over the course of four days, and to her surprise, Xavier graciously admits he was mistaken. Six weeks later, she gets back in touch with Xavier to get a certificate of health for the cat, and he asks her out. Xavier then takes her on the best date of her life.

Their connection is undeniable, but they face an immediate obstacle: the date was on Samantha's last evening in Minneapolis, Minn. She's moving back to California to help her family through a crisis. But Xavier can't let Samantha go after their perfect night together. Both Samantha and Xavier are dealing with hard situations in their extended families--including dementia, financial debt, and past trauma. Their burgeoning relationship is a lifeline of hope in the midst of it all.

Abby Jimenez has once again crafted an appealing novel that speaks to her skill for combining elements of hilarity and heartfelt romance while thoughtfully exploring complex subjects. Although fans of Sophie Cousens and Annabel Monaghan will especially enjoy it, Say You'll Remember Me is a delightful and poignant romance that will appeal to a wide audience. --Jessica Howard, former bookseller, freelance book reviewer

In Black in Blues: How a Color Tells the Story of My People, Imani Perry (South to America) offers haunting reflections on the strong connections between the color blue and the history of Black people. In a lyrical style, she muses about the roles that blue has played: blue, the feeling of sadness; blue, the sound of thoughtful music; blue, the color of beads that enslavers traded for Black lives in the Congo.

As Perry writes, "The association of the color blue with sadness is of English origin. The sound is African-rooted. The color is global." She expertly uses this framework to tell the stories of many Black people, including Liberian settlers, members of the Nation, and Toni Morrison. Perry finds insight in work by people she'd long known about: Rosa Parks and Duke Ellington and W.E.B. Du Bois. This led to discoveries of figures she was less familiar with, such as Jean-Jacques Dessalines, the Haitian revolutionary; Paul Gonsalves, the Cape Verdean American jazz musician; and Andrée Blouin, an extreme rarity: a Black female political activist and anticolonialist leader from the Central African Republic.

Perry's spare and poetic writing powerfully encapsulates history. It also underlines the frequency with which English-language speakers refer to ideas such as black-and-blue bruising, blue-black skin and hair, or the blues music predominantly played by Black musicians.

Black in Blues is sure to appeal to readers who enjoy exploring social justice topics. Perry's blue-tinted history offers a fascinating lens through which to see the world. --Jessica Howard, freelance book reviewer

Charmaine Wilkerson's powerful second novel, Good Dirt, explores the lasting effects of a long-ago tragedy and its connection to a beloved family heirloom. Through the history of the Freeman family and the provenance of a handmade pottery jar affectionately known as "Old Mo," Wilkerson (Black Cake) considers family secrets, race and respectability politics, the long-term nature of childhood trauma, and the complexity of American history.

On an autumn day in 2000, two armed burglars break into the Freemans' house to find the children, Baz and Ebby, at home unexpectedly. The encounter results in Baz's murder; Old Mo is shattered into fragments, and 10-year-old Ebby experiences a trauma that will haunt her for the rest of her life. Wilkerson continues her narrative years later with a different kind of tragedy, as Ebby's wealthy white fiancé, Henry, fails to show up for their wedding.

Ebby begins to ask questions about Old Mo and the circumstances of its attempted theft, as she reckons with the pain Henry caused her and the lingering trauma from Baz's death. The jar, made under enslavement, holds more history than even Ebby can guess, and Wilkerson reaches back a few centuries to excavate some of that history through the stories of skilled potter Moses, his brother-in-law, Willis, and their descendants.

Wilkerson probes the layers of each family member's connection to the jar; their deep love for one another and fierce pride in their heritage; and the guilt they carry, logical or not, relating to Baz's death. Layered and complex, Wilkerson's novel brilliantly sculpts a story of quiet resistance, skilled craftsmanship, and dedication to family and freedom. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

Stark and tender, Fire Exit by Morgan Talty (Night of the Living Rez) compassionately addresses tough choices in matters of family and love. In hardscrabble circumstances, surrounded by poverty, alcoholism, and family violence, one man wishes to give his daughter a meaningful gift: the truth.

Charles Lamosway has grown up on the Penobscot reservation in Maine, but doesn't have Native American blood. Although he's very close to his Native stepfather, Frederick, his biological parentage meant he had to move off the reservation when he came of age. Frederick purchased land and helped to build the house where Charles lives now, just across the river. Largely isolated, with few friends, Charles watches from his porch the family on the other side: Mary, Roger, and their daughter, Elizabeth. Charles is Elizabeth's biological father, a secret he has kept at Mary's request. But as he ages, and as his mother Louise's health worsens, he feels increasingly that Elizabeth, now an adult, must know the truth. This urge becomes a fixation, a bodily need. Elizabeth faces medical problems, and he is convinced she needs the truth--including Louise's medical history--to survive. But it's possible that what Charles sees as necessary will have an entirely different outcome from what he intends.

Fire Exit is concerned with bodies, with visceral needs not only for food and shelter but for truth. Talty's tersely poetic, descriptive prose grounds this story in the physical. This first novel grapples with family issues and hard choices about love and responsibility; blood, culture, and belonging. It is an utterly absorbing story, always firmly rooted in the corporeal; tough, honest, but not bitter. --Julia Kastner, librarian and blogger at pagesofjulia

The Lost Robot by Joe Todd-Stanton (The Comet) is a heartwarming, heartfelt children's picture book. Through charming art and one endearing robot's peregrination, it highlights the beauty in broken things and the importance of self-love.

The titular robot does not know why it has awoken in a pile of garbage, its display cracked and one arm missing, but it knows this must be a mistake. It wanders past "decaying machines" and "abandoned spaceships" to reach a city. There, the robot remembers having a friend. After a bit of creative mending to look presentable, it finds the boy it once belonged to--the child with whom it enjoyed quests and hugs and stories--only to discover the boy now has a "new best friend." Visibly dejected, the robot returns to the rubbish heap, "exactly where it was supposed to be." Days turn into weeks, into months, and then years, when a mother and daughter come to the dump in search of broken things to repair.

Readers will likely empathize with the lost robot through its quirky tilted-head expressions and the detailed, emotionally cued backdrops. Color-packed Miyazaki-reminiscent scenes give way to somber shadows in the junkyard, then shine with natural light once more as the robot is taken "through the countryside" to a new home. A dusty, graffiti-filled marketplace with dystopian vibes and a tech-heavy city of sterile high-rises and homes are followed by sunny mountain vistas and star-filled skies, providing clever worldbuilding and suggesting all green spaces are not lost. This warming and comforting story exudes hope of many kinds. --Samantha Zaboski, freelance editor and reviewer

Author/illustrator Yuko Torii's inspiring picture book, My Someone, gives voice to a small, scruffy yellow dog who declares, "I don't like being alone."

The street pup eats from garbage cans only when other larger canines aren't fiercely laying claim. Scary loud noises and bad weather pose additional threats: "I want to feel safe." The storm-drenched pup looks out from its slight cover of a garbage can lid at a smalltown sidewalk filled with families and their furry companions walking, browsing, sipping, and shopping. The pooch dreams, "I want to find my someone." An irresistible tasty treat lands the pup with an animal rescue team ready to groom and vaccinate ("I REALLY don't like this," the dog declares at the offensive shot). But all that pampering pays off when a parent and child choose the floofy bundle to take home. "I like this place," the pup thinks, "it's warm and quiet." At last, the pooch can eat, play, rest, and, best of all, share cozy overnight cuddles with "my someone."

Torii's charming "human made... watercolor and ink" illustrations use plenty of white space, suggesting at first an emptiness in the small dog's uncertain existence. Dangers, however, including massive trucks and torrential storms, dominate whole spreads. Torii's pages noticeably begin to fill with colorful details as a promising future takes shape: the dog's rescue, a new home, a bedtime hug. Her repeated use of red--collar and leash, shoes, polka-dotted blanket--underscores the connections between parent, child, and dog. Torii charmingly offers plenty of convincing reasons for furry family additions. --Terry Hong

Sophie Williams (Map of You) invites readers to interact with prehistory in her eye-catching nonfiction children's picture book Finding Life. Each double-page spread summarizes one of Earth's epochs (from the late Precambrian Era through the Halocene) and challenges readers to find different creatures hidden in the detailed, art-filled depictions of each era. Budding scientists can learn plenty of facts while simultaneously practicing their observational skills in this enlightening exploration of life on Earth.

In each period, Williams introduces scientific terms, such as chordates in the Cambrian period (541-486 million years ago), tetrapods in the Devonian period (419-359 mya), and the K-Pg extinction in the Cretaceous period (145-66 mya). While this may be the first exposure to such terms for some readers, Williams presents them in accessible text that encourages valuable knowledge building about not only the creatures, but the planet itself. "During the Permian, almost all of the land on Earth came together to form one huge supercontinent called Pangea." Further strengthening this scientific foundation is the search-and-find activity on each page. Williams has hidden creatures (such as a Wiwaxia, a Parexus, and a Plesiosaurus) with various degrees of difficulty on land, under water, and in the air.

Finding Life concludes with a glossary that defines general terms and describes all the animals in the searches. This informative, engaging picture book for middle-grade readers may hook young audiences with an easy spot and encourage them to look longer at the striking images to unearth those animals which are more difficult to locate. Finding Life is a treasured literary find. --Jen Forbus, freelancer