Prepare to fall hard for Lenny Marks, the awkward, overthinking, lonely character in Mayne’s emotional debut mystery. Helena, or Lenny, is an Australian primary-school teacher. She’s fine in the classroom, as her self-discipline means she sticks religiously to lesson plans. She also gets along well with kids, but the same can’t be said for her interactions with colleagues, whom she mostly ignores, except for Ashleigh and Amy. These are the women whom Lenny has decided will be her friends—social workers and a kind former foster-mom having long encouraged her to speak to others and get out more. (Meanwhile, Asheigh and Amy say things to Lenny like, “I love that you don’t care what you look like”). But she’s trudging along mostly fine until the letter. It arrives at the school from the state parole board and sets Lenny into a spin while Mayne, tantalizingly, lets us into the full, shocking story of Lenny’s early life. Be ready for some very sad moments, including scenes of domestic violence toward children. I just adore this character and this book and will be thinking of Lenny for years (once I finish crying). Mayne’s captivating work might bring you back to an old Oprah’s Book Club favorite, Wally Lamb’s She’s Come Undone.
Debut
This is Estes’s debut novel, but far from her first brush with the TV journalism world portrayed in the book. Like her main character, Jolene Garcia, the author is a reporter in Phoenix, an Emmy winning one at that. Readers will get the feeling that she’s all too familiar with the pressure that’s on Jolene to do it all—investigate, write, present—all while looking fabulous on TV, then rinse and repeat on social media. Jolene is tired of the fluffy stories that the station runs to please the manager’s wife, and when a death occurs at a local radio station, she’s all over it. The deceased might be Alex Jones-alike Larry Lemmon, a talk-show host who divides his time between hating facts and hating immigrants more, a story that’s bound to draw viewers in droves. Dare she hope? And better again, maybe he was murdered. Her TV-news sensation dreams are fulfilled, but many questions remain. Assisting Jolene in getting the scoop on those is a reluctantly helpful police officer whose portrayal of departmental politics and ethics add narrative tension. But best is Jolene’s relentlessness and endurance of whatever it takes to get the story. Estes says that “J.A. Jance’s Ali Reynolds series planted the seed for my writing while Hank Phillippi Ryan’s Jane Ryland series helped it grow,” so fans of those series are a natural fit for this gritty thriller.
Actor and now debut novelist Lindstrom explores the dark side of life in Los Angeles. Winston Greene used to be one of the top actors in the world, but his prestige is gone, along with most gigs. His six-year-old granddaughter arrives in the middle of the night after getting a ride from a stranger; she appears out of sorts, and she’s carrying a stuffed puppy and a thumb drive. The drive contains a ransom video featuring Winston’s daughter, who will die unless he gives her kidnappers all the money from his prestigious career. Going to the police will only put a target on Winston and his granddaughter’s backs. Thankfully, he has some friends who can help, including a former LAPD detective and a stuntman. These characters are all flawed, but that makes the story more engaging than if they were squeaky-clean superheroes. Lindstrom uses his knowledge of Hollywood to deliver a clever and gripping thriller, and he writes like a pro. It is hard to believe this is a debut.
Very British, very country, and a whole lot of fun. Back in 1965, when she was 17, Frances was told by a fortune teller that her future “contains dry bones. Your slow demise begins when you hold the queen in the palm of one hand. Beware the bird…But daughters are the key to justice.” While most teens would shrug it off, Frances became obsessed with the prediction, and devoted much of her life to warding off the prophecy. Jump to today—the story flips back and forth—and meet 25-year-old Annie, an aspiring mystery writer and Frances’s great niece. She’s been summoned to the village of Castle Knoll for a meeting with Great Aunt Frances and a discussion about “the responsibilities that will come with being sole benefactor of her estate and assets.” So off Annie heads to Castle Knoll, meets up with a motley crew of relatives, and quickly manages to arm herself with Great Aunt Frances’s extensive diaries that she discovers in the library. This novel is marvelously well-balanced, humorous, and lighthearted while at the same time dark and macabre, with two great characters—Frances and Annie—who share the narrative from opposite ends. Fans of Anthony Horowitz and Richard Osman will find much to enjoy here
It’s thrilling to discover a debut this brilliant, full of wonderment, humor, and above all, love. Alistair McCabe, gay and handsome, smart and funny, arrives at New York University from upstate to pursue his destiny as a financial whiz kid. He’s got the talent, the obsessiveness, the drive—and the desire to help his Mom, who has done so much for him. Sweet, right? But being a brainiac isn’t quite enough—you need to fit in with the finance bros—and a much coveted banking internship leads to, well, nothing. Except for more debt. Fortunately, there’s Mark and Elijah, a couple ten years or so older who take him in as their third paramour (we’re spared “throuple”). Mark, a sort of small-time trust funder, and Elijah have their own set of troubles, which they’re happy to cast aside whenever Alistair visits. Alistair is eventually offered an opportunity to work for an elusive, sinister billionaire and he jumps at it while continuing to investigate the mogul’s wealth. What he discovers catapults him out of the life he had come to know into one both terrifying and wildly anxiety producing. Lefferts moves around the narrative with ease, visiting family and friends, picking up a character or two then setting them down. Slowly these scenes fall together and this expansive novel becomes far greater than the sum of its parts. Comparisons to Hanya Yanagihara’s A Little Life are inevitable, and in both books there is plenty that horrifies. But also, like A Little Life, it’s ultimately friendship that saves the characters. And us as well.
“Her mother’s approval was everything, her rejection absolute annihilation.” A daily does of annihilation is Anh Le’s lot as the child of a Vietnamese immigrant mother who is “from the ‘I criticize because I care’ culture.” Today, Mẹ, the mother, lives in the carriage house next to her artist daughter, now called Annie, who’s married with a sullen teen daughter, whom Mẹ calls a whore. After Annie finds Mẹ dead, things start to get even more difficult. Despite her OCD related to cleanliness, Annie must clean out the carriage house where her mother refused to throw out anything, even rotten food. At the same time, she takes on a new commission for her local benefactor, an elderly lady who doesn’t acknowledge Mẹ’s death (“China dolls needn’t have troublesome backstories”) and who promptly goes missing. At first, the police refuse to believe there’s any issue, but as further crimes come to light, they and Annie herself, who’s once again crippled by her compulsions, begin to wonder if she’s to blame. Nguyen delves deep into the trauma caused by war and the generations-spanning destruction it can unleash, but anyone who grew up feeling othered will recognize themselves here. A debut to remember, and what a gripping ending.