After moving from Portland, Oregon, to France for her father’s job, Tosh grows increasingly fond of Paris, even if her language skills need some work. Her sweet American neighbor Nick takes her on fabulous, quirky tours and introduces her to new friends who share her curiosity about the world; former debate team member Tosh loves doing research. They also inspire her with their interests, in particular street artist Noor, who uses her paintings to empower women. This message is more important than ever now that someone is attacking and biting women throughout the city, stirring memories in Tosh of a bad experience with Cole, a boy whose sexual aggression led her to quit debate. As the danger creeps closer, and mentions of vampires crop up everywhere, Tosh will have to confront a literal and metaphorical predator in order to keep the new life she loves. The story begins as a Parisian summer romp before shifting to become a creepy vampire horror story that creates a disturbingly apt parallel between vampirism and misogyny while critiquing very real sexism in our world. Banks balances Tosh’s struggles with gender bias with the affection and support of her new friend group to land a genuine and sympathetic tone throughout. Tosh and Nick are coded white, and Noor is cued Muslim.

Seeking to help readers clarify what leadership means to them, Christian warns that this book isn’t intended for passive reading—the editor is inviting readers to engage in the “personal, professional, soul, spiritual” work outlined in this motivational work (the first volume in a series) that she describes as “a space for truth-telling, for authenticity at its core. A place to honor the messy, magical process of becoming.” Her exhortations include “Engage Authentically,” “Exercise Your Discomfort Muscle” (“Let go of the need to agree with everything”), and “Personalize Your Experience.” In these pages, Christian has assembled testimonials from various businesspeople and motivational figures, all evincing what contributor Jacquelyn Bsharah calls “Thoughtful Leadership,” which she describes as “a values-based approach to leadership that prioritizes self-awareness, authenticity, and aligning decisions with purpose, not just performance.” The pieces vary in tone and content. Executive James Harris, for example, reflects on the tough love he received from his father, which taught him that leadership is “about showing up, doing the work, and carrying others with you.” Journalist-turned-consultant Bsharah looks back on being rejected for a job as a special assignment reporter and how she used the setback as motivation to work harder (“Less than a year later, I was tapped for a major story, and eventually was promoted to running the division”). The decision to include a range of distinctive narrative voices was a wise one; the different perspectives liven up the pace and keep the flow interesting. Readers will find some contributors more engaging than others, depending on whether they want their leadership advice to be practical or spiritual (some contributors talk about real-world workplace challenges, while others quote Rumi). Despite these differences, the concept of “Thoughtful Leadership” tends to unify the whole.

Floyd Hunsacker is exploring caves in 1870s Oregon when he comes across animal remains; seconds later, he’s consumed by a huge creature. Thirty years later, Chenoa Winterhawk is working as a guide in the same territory, leading a group on a tour in a dirigible. She’s traveling with a Maj. Quinn—he does not want his daughter with his late Chinese wife to be deported, so he’s completing a task for the Army Corps of Engineers. Another man, Lt. Misciso, hijacks the tour. Misciso is a malevolent presence from the beginning, acting with hostility toward Chenoa. When she presses him about where he intends to go, he’s cagey. He forces the dirigible to land, and the group encounters Chenoa’s uncle Akando, someone her father warned her to avoid; it’s clear something nefarious is afoot. Akando is after money that belonged to a separatist group, and believes it’s in a mine to which Quinn has a map. Things take a deadly turn when Chenoa escapes and tries to get to the mine before Akando does. Scenes depicting the massive creature from the prologue mauling and eating people in the community are interspersed throughout the story (“A massive shape rumbled through the dense underbrush of the forest. It looked like an enormous trunk had sprung legs, only this tree had white bark covering it”), indicating the danger that awaits Chenoa if she reaches her destination. Federal agents, along with Theodore Roosevelt, are also in pursuit. Can Chenoa survive Akando’s pursuit and the creature living in the mine? Buzan maintains a compelling sense of tension throughout the novel, which is incredibly violent and has very high stakes. The inclusion of some of the historical exposition is understandable—this is likely a chapter of U.S. history with which many readers are unfamiliar—but a little clunky; this story was clearly well researched, but the level of detail can distract from the narrative’s forward momentum. Still, it’s a thrilling, bloody yarn with an unusual setting.

Australian stuntperson, survival expert, and TV personality Furneaux draws on her own bushcraft experience to offer an engaging guide to survival in the outdoors that’s at once comprehensive and compulsively readable. Organized into manageable sections, the book covers core outdoor survival principles, including shelter, water, and fire. Each section presents a historical example to learn from, explains the topic’s importance (with scientific context), provides detailed yet approachable instructions, shares helpful tips and tricks, and offers hands-on activities so readers can safely practice their skills. The final chapter is a lengthy quiz that allows budding outdoorspeople to further cement their knowledge. From showing how to tie knots to catching and preparing small animals to eat, demonstrative photos and detailed line drawings help readers effectively visualize techniques. The text debunks common bushcraft myths while offering fun facts (you actually can eat most slugs and snails—but avoid the brightly colored ones!); at the same time, Furneaux doesn’t shy away from the serious nature of the topic and the dangers inherent to wilderness excursions. While she encourages adult supervision throughout the book, some of the practice activities—like starting a fire using a battery and steel wool—feel unsafe for the intended audience. The outdoorspeople who appear in photos appear white.

Oscar, a bespectacled, round-bodied, long-legged bird with cartoonishly big eyes, is desperate to keep love away. He feels it coming on, so he makes preparations, putting up “No trespassing” signage and donning protective armor and camouflage. Finally, he gets a ferocious guard dog—a fuzzy little brown pup named Brutus. Brow furrowed, Brutus barks, growls, and chases off interlopers, but slowly, after treats and games of fetch, the two form a bond. Just when Oscar feels certain love won’t find him, Brutus disappears, and there’s no one to protect him from love. When the pair are finally—and lovingly—reunited, Oscar realizes he never had anything to worry about; love was a goal worth attaining. Kousky has populated his forest setting with adorable squirrels trying their best to love Oscar. Sweet scenes depict bird and pup snuggled up in bed clad in matching nightcaps, taking a dip in the duck pond together—in short, loving each other. Kousky’s muted mixed-media illustrations portray a forest full of trees with textured bark, dotted with red berries under a brush of watercolor-esque sky. The author/illustrator authentically captures the slow build of love and friendship between resistant Oscar and gruff-looking but ultimately sweet Brutus. The pacing, tight storytelling, and well-matched illustrations make this a worthy read-aloud.