First, Auntie honors the animal’s sacrifice with a blessing. “Now it’s time to scrape till our hands are raw. After that a good soak and we stretch, pull, tug!” Debut author Iceberg (Aleut/Alutiiq) writes with deceptive simplicity; her lively text flows beautifully, setting an energetic pace and capturing the exuberance of the participants. Earthy details (“Here’s the best part—making brain goo,” “Next, we pee on it! PEE! Yep, all of us!”), conveyed with a child-friendly sensibility, add a playful flair. Donovan’s (Métis) expressive artwork employs an array of hues and dynamic linework to depict the strength and spirit of this communal activity. Colors pop, and a sense of movement infuses the visuals as raindrops pulse, smoke ripples, and the moose hide itself curves across the page. Donovan differentiates the various members of the community, portraying each with care; elders lovingly guide younger children, who observe closely as “a tradition of love passes through.” Everyone takes part, and it’s clear that the experience is both vital to the community’s livelihood and a crucial part of the culture. All parts of the moose, including the hide, are used for a meaningful purpose; nothing goes to waste.

Chapman worked in cattle, oil, trucking, and mining before getting into the real estate finance business, rising to the top of that industry despite refusing to change his redneck persona (on his book’s cover, the author sports a trucker cap, braided beard, and camouflage) one iota. This volume is anything but the standard business guide; Chapman doubles down on the redneck shtick right from the start, calling each chapter an “Ass Beatin’” and giving them titles like “Quit Jerkin’ Off,” “No One Gives a Damn About You,” and “Put Your Ass on the Line.” He makes liberal use of the terms sumbitchand damn, and cheerfully invites readers who don’t like his language, style, or message to toss the book in a dumpster or set it on fire. But the core messages are timeless: Life is difficult and unpredictable, the road to success is often rocky, and trust, reliability, resilience, humility, and treating other people well are essential. Above all, “what makes you happy and ultimately defines a successful outcome is somethin’ only you can determine.” Anecdotes from Chapman’s own life, including a major business setback and a challenging recovery from a horrific motorcycle crash, underscore key points. More than 50 lively, colorful illustrations by the author’s brother, Eric Chapman, enhance the text. Chapman grounds his principles in his Christian faith without insisting that readers share it. Many of his messages are repeated, because, in the author’s view, “That is how you learn. You gotta hear it over and over and over again.” He also pitches an intention-setting “Ozark Experience” retreat several times and refers readers to the book’s companion website. Though most of Chapman’s messages are familiar, they have rarely, if ever, been delivered with such refreshing bluntness. Humorous, self-deprecating, and (despite plentiful references to ass-whoopin’) compassionate, his take on self-help might be just the kick in the pants some readers need.

The author was raised in Lamesa, in the endless flat plains of West Texas. He describes himself as a typical, hard-working kid. As a teenager, he discovered a talent for broadcasting as a DJ on local radio and honed his skills through his college years at the University of Texas at Austin, after which he decided to pursue the law. Conner went to law school in Houston, where he met and married Anne Garwood, a socialite from a prominent family (“Anne and I met for drinks. Two nights later, we had our second date. Within a few days, we were together constantly”). They welcomed two kids, Emily and Will, who have both become very successful (Emily’s accomplishments are particularly impressive, as she was rendered paralyzed in a diving accident). Retired, the author and Anne now live in New Mexico. The book’s highlights find Conner in the courtroom: In the very first chapter, the author discusses his role in the true case of a legendary Texas wildcatter, Hugh Roy Cullen, detailing the troubles that beset his family over the decades, including a grandson who claimed to be Italian aristocracy, conservatorship battles, Roy Cohn (yes, that Roy Cohn), and some of the most renowned and flamboyant lawyers in Texas (which is saying a lot). This is a shrewd tactic to draw the reader in.

The author evinces a commendable but almost unseemly modesty regarding himself; clearly, he played in the big leagues, even if he never gained the fame of a Gerry Spence or an F. Lee Bailey—which again speaks to his modesty. He was never a grandstander, but his opponents knew that when they faced Conner in court, they had better have done their homework. The other cases covered here are ones that often made the national news and the tabloids, such as the murder case involving millionaire Cullen Davis and his estranged wife, the high-living Priscilla Davis, whom, per the author, shot her. Davis was acquitted (“After the trial, one of the prosecutors said, ‘I never thought I would say this, but it seems we have two systems of justice in this country: one for the rich and one for the poor’”), later found religion, lost his riches, and lived modestly. Priscilla was made very rich in the ensuing divorce settlement, which was handled by Conner, who tried to steer her to responsible financial planners. Against his advice, she went with scammers who promised her quick riches; she wound up dying at 59 of breast cancer in a one-bedroom apartment in Dallas. Other engaging stories include a murder case in the Conner’s own River Oaks neighborhood, medical malpractice fraud (the author had a good team of detectives), and a thwarted kidnapping. Readers learn a lot about legal procedure. Conner is a competent if not striking writer, adequately equipped to do justice to the amazing stories he has to tell. Moreover, he comes across as a very decent and ethical human being.

The story begins in South Carolina in 1859, when 16-year-old Lorena McKenzie, already a stunning beauty, meets handsome West Point cadet Baron Callahan at the ball that opens her family’s annual horse sale. The story then jumps forward two years: Lorena’s overbearing, histrionic mother has moved to Baltimore; Baron is with his army unit in Texas; and her beloved father dies, leaving her in charge of the horse farm along with a second farm in Virginia, where she’s started a girls’ boarding school. She soon discovers that her father has left the property in debt, and unscrupulous bankers force the heartbreaking sale of his legacy. With the war between the states imminent, Baron resigns his commission to join the Confederate forces and Lorena is recruited as a spy. Her code name is Rain Crow, a southern nickname for the yellow-billed cuckoo whose cries often presage summer storms. Packing a pistol under her gowns, she flirts with Union officers while conveying secret messages, worries about Baron’s safety, evades capture, is stalked by a possible serial killer, and volunteers at a hospital for wounded soldiers. At first a wayward child, she blossoms into a savvy, compassionate, and daring young woman. Weathers’ 600-page tome is packed with enough characters and plot elements for two or three standard novels. Her writing is often vivid but sometimes uneven; items such as clothing and food are described with colorful, accurate historical detail, but the dialogue often features expressions that feel anachronistic (such as “snagged” for “obtained” and “comprende?”) and occasional plantation dialect. The treatment of slavery is ambivalent; it’s not always clear which servants are free (and of course, the protagonists are on the rebel side). Lorena’s voice is distinctive—she’s aware of her own beauty without being vain, capable of both sarcasm and tenderness, determined, and cool under pressure. The ending is satisfying but open-ended enough to permit a sequel.

When three boys, Ricky Henderson and brothers Mikey and Joey Schuler, vanish in 1950s Chicago and are later found dead in a nearby forest preserve, the city is thrown into a state of panic. A massive manhunt ensues, drawing in police from multiple jurisdictions. Despite sweeping up dozens of known pedophiles and other potential suspects, authorities fail to find the killer. The investigation is hampered by chaos at the crime scene, jurisdictional conflicts, and a flood of false leads, and the murders go unsolved for decades. Almost 40 years later, ATF investigator Nick Ferraro, who had known the victims as a child, stumbles upon an unexpected lead—a long-buried confession overheard by a criminal informant (“He told me he killed a couple of kids one time”). Teaming up with police officer A.J. Reid, the daughter of one of the original investigating officers, Nick begins to unravel a web of corruption and criminal ties that reach far beyond the boys’ murders. As the pair dig deeper, they discover connections to the so-called “Equestrian Mafia” and the shadowy world of Chicago’s organized crime. Readers fascinated by true-crime investigations and procedural detail will find much to engage with here. The novel excels in its depiction of midcentury police work and the ensuing media frenzy. The later sections, in which Nick and A.J. piece together decades-old clues, are equally compelling, offering both emotional weight and historical resonance. That said, what begins as a breathless, sharply paced thriller loses momentum—the minutiae of the original investigation can drag, and the courtroom sequences toward the end feel unnecessarily drawn out, dulling some of the tension built earlier in the book. Still, despite its pacing issues, the novel delivers an engrossing blend of crime, history, and moral reckoning.