Borg tells interesting stories from his stellar career, but he’s most expressive when describing his inner turmoil. A fantastically fit athlete—the title nods to his low resting heartbeat—the self-possessed Swede was nicknamed “Burken,” or “the Jar,” because he kept “the lid on” his feelings. Fascinatingly, this was a conscious decision born of the belief that “showing emotion could be a weakness the opponent would exploit.” But it concealed the “rollercoaster going on inside.” By 1980, atop his sport, fame and media scrutiny fed “a creeping sense of panic.” He retired at 26, a decision he regrets, for he “sank” even lower. He got “hooked” on cocaine, made some business mistakes, and now regards the 1990s as a “lost” decade. Though Borg was drug-free during his career, his “memories are fewer” about his biggest wins. When you play well, he explains, it’s “like you’re in a trance.” Accordingly, his accounts of his 11 major tournament titles are sometimes terse. He declines to explain, for instance, how he transcended his relative struggles on Wimbledon’s “fast grass” to eventually win five times. He divulges no hard feelings about his great rivalry with John McEnroe, instead sharing an Odd Couple-esque anecdote about pausing a match to counsel the high-strung American: “John, it’s only a game.” Borg is forthright about his failings as a father, insightful about the elite competitor’s mindset, and funny on puny 1970s paydays. He was so focused on the next challenge that he’d leave just-won trophies in hotels. He lugged a “Santa sack” containing $1 bills on a flight. Borg recently had prostate cancer surgery. He intends “to beat” the disease. As this likable book shows, he’s still a battler.

Young Ria and her faithful dog, Cheetah, are busy preparing to welcome Baba and Dadi, who are flying in from India. Ria greets them with warm hugs, and they ply her with presents and a mithai box bursting with her favorite sweets. As Ria makes an offering of a ladoo to the god Ganesha, her grandmother teaches her the phrase “Atithi Devo Bhava. Like God, we welcome our guests with warmth and respect.” As guests arrive, Ria offers them mithai, but when it quickly empties, she wonders if she’ll be able to taste one of the goodies herself. Happily, her grandmother points out that there’s one sweet waiting just for her—the ladoo she offered to Ganesha. Agarwal and Pillai easily capture a youngster’s warring impulses; Ria’s desires to be a good host feel as relatable as her mounting dread at missing out on her favorite treat. The scene where her kindness and generosity are at last recognized serves as a gentle reminder of the importance of sharing with others. The kaleidoscopic colors and floral patterns in bright oranges, pinks, and greens create a lively and bustling backdrop. Images of Ria’s diverse friends gathering around delicious food and steamy cups of tea create a cozy, warm, and welcoming tone.

Editor Grisham points out that as “mankind’s first crime,” murder holds a fascination for readers that no other misdeed can match. So it’s appropriate that no less than 18 of the 20 stories include a killing, contemplated or committed. But murder is not always the main event. Often the tricky part is figuring out how not to get killed, as in Casey Stegman’s “Effie’s Oasis,” Tracy Falenwolfe’s “Jamming at Jollies,” and Billie Livingston’s “Same Old Song.” And as series editor Otto Penzler points out, deduction and detection have in recent years taken a back seat to what he calls “the psychology of crime.” Stories like Erika Krouse’s “Eat My Moose” and April Kelly’s “The Art of Disappearance” place the delicacy of human relationships front and center. Family ties also loom large, as in Shelagh Smith’s “Snapshot” and Tom Larsen’s “The Other Brother.” And marital strife is always a motivator for misbehavior, as in James Hearn’s “Totality,” Craig Faustus Buck’s “Home Game,” and Sean McCluskey’s jolting “The Secret Menu.” This year’s volume fulfills its promise of originality while honoring the time-tested formula for good mysteries: It shows readers characters they feel they know and care about doing things they couldn’t possibly have anticipated.

One night, lowly 8-year-old Agni Kazirian sees the apparition of his ancestor Anton, the “last child of the Dragon God.” Anton believes that the boy will someday reunite the once-powerful Kazia—a former empire that’s now split into the Solantian Empire and the Blevenian Kingdom. Such a reunion will likely entail great bloodshed. Twenty years later, Agni, who sports blue hair and dragon wings and belongs to a dragon tribe, is the Lord Guardian of the East. When he was the high general, he led Solantia to victory in war against Blevenia and the Kingdom of Avicia. He now defends his empire with snares set up throughout the Spires, a part of the Borderlands between Solantia and Blevenia. When Anton finally tells Agni that it’s time for his “rebirth,” Agni champions the rise of Kazia while in a hall of lords; he’s also betrothed to Duchess Sara Ristana. Some deem his rally “traitorous,” and, sure enough, Agni suspects a plot to kill him. So he flees with his colossal bodyguard, Alexander, and the woman he truly loves: Kali of the tiger-people. Their only possible refuge is Tercera, Avicia’s capital, which Agni led in defeat. The trio’s safety, as they make their way to Tercera, is far from assured, especially after they’re forcibly separated—and with more than one duke aiming to take Agni out, they may not be able to find a place to hide.

Sterk excels at worldbuilding, which makes up the bulk of this novel. Quite a lot happens in the 20-year time jump alone, most notably the lengthy Black Moon War, which a much-younger Agni may have helped to ignite. As this series is only just getting started, the story merely touches on certain subjects, particularly those involving the larger world. This includes the Kazian Empire of long ago; Anton, who’s been watching over the Mortal Realms for millennia; and the Scourge, a cataclysmic event that brought the “wrath of the Netherworld” down on the Mortal Realms and toppled Kazia. The gradual introduction also applies to the characters. Agni alternates between warmheartedness (which he shows to meek, 10-year-old sentry Qualo) and savagery, which others, even Sara, endure. However, in this opening installment, he begins to feel regrets, which may afford him an opportunity to evolve as the series continues. The cast is a curious assortment, from Solantia and Blevenia’s dragon tribes who use their wings for gliding, to Kali who, as an Aloi woman, has “tiger-like facial stripes” and a tail. Agni gets the most narrative attention as he strives to make his own choices, and a seemingly chagrined Anton protests: “Foolish boy….You defy not just your destiny but your very blood.” Still, other players get opportunities to shine, including Sara, who makes an unexpected connection and heads in an equally surprising direction. The ending makes it abundantly clear that a sequel is forthcoming.

College dropout Sam became obsessed with supernatural lore following the death of their mother. Sage, who’s grounded in science and reason, has little patience for ghost stories. Their childhood friend Kora, who mourns the family’s loss as if it were her own, joins Sage’s search without hesitation. Alongside them are Kora’s new maybe-girlfriend, Hunter; Kora’s ex-boyfriend, Connor; and Noah, the young library employee who helped Sam with his research and quietly harbors feelings for him. As the group ventures deeper into the woods, their search for Sam brings some of their own struggles with grief to the surface. Sage, who used to find solace in swimming, turned to drinking and quit the swim team. She also lives with ADHD, a detail that’s woven into her character without defining her. Kora’s childhood home is up for sale, and she’s soon heading to art school in New York on her own. The characters are funny and supportive of one another, and the novel offers a thoughtful examination of grief’s ability to isolate people and shape their identities. While the Appalachian folklore largely remains in the background, the setting is lovingly described. Sage and Sam are cued Latine and white; Sage is white-passing, unlike her brother. Hunter is Cherokee, Noah presents Black, and Kora and Connor read white.