Zinnia is a small-business owner who’s given up on the dating scene. Instead, she decides to get straight to the point with what she calls a “marriage-merger,” treating the dating process more like a job interview. Selected applicants will be subjected to screening calls and in-person meetings with the goal of marrying within a month. Her friends aren’t quite sold on the idea, but Zinnia feels this is the most efficient way of ticking the nuptials box. Jordan comes from a famous family of reality television stars, whose lives are recorded for salacious entertainment on a show called Zaffre Hours—think Keeping Up With the Kardashians—though he’s never been part of the cast. The producers have now cooked up a storyline that would entail Jordan officially joining the show, which would include reuniting with and marrying his ex. Jordan would prefer to have more of a say in his love life when he sees Zinnia’s marriage-merger dating profile, it strikes him as the perfect opportunity for a mutually beneficial arrangement. This a slow-burn romance, but it’s hard to tell if the romance is slow because the main characters start as strangers or because the romantic tension is frequently interrupted and overshadowed by Jordan’s toxic family members and drama-hungry TV producers. Meanwhile, Zinnia isn’t looking for love, but more of a business partner in life; to her, marriage seems like just an obstacle to overcome. Why she feels this way isn’t fully explored, aside from not wanting to be left behind while her friends are getting coupled up.

“The story of you began the day you were born. With each passing year, as you grow and change, so does the story of you.” These sentences bookend a double-page spread showing a brown-skinned child with curly dark hair in a simultaneous succession of five points of growth—from infant to toddler to young running child. Next, an illustrated roller coaster complements the text’s reminders that every story has “ups and downs, twists and turns, excitement and mystery.” The next pages suggest possibilities in children’s futures, most of them exceptional. Rather than suggesting someone might play football, act, write, or study paleontology—rarefied in themselves—they might “score touchdowns,” “light up a stage,” “write a best-selling novel,” or “investigate a new species.” Social action gets a nod. More pages follow in which kids are urged to ignore outside voices of discouragement and to trust their inner voice in choosing clothes, actions, and words. More ego-boosting text ensues, always accompanied by lively, colorful, literally star-studded art featuring a diverse crew of kids. The upbeat tone of the text and art makes this a probable choice for a doting grandparent to read to a beloved young grandchild. Older kids may be inspired by Johnson’s personal endnote about overcoming adversity to become a champion football player.

Today, less than a third of Americans say they believe in the American Dream, and almost 20 percent believe that it never existed. To Libby, this is a tragic commentary on the state of America’s middle class and uninspired political leadership. In this robust volume, the author offers a new “radically moderate” vision for the renewal of American society based on data-driven, action-oriented public policy. Central to his vision is a balance between what he calls a “Strong Floor” (a socioeconomic safety net centered around strengthening education, healthcare, and “access to opportunity, work, and justice”) and its counterpart, “No Ceiling” (an embrace of entrepreneurship and “strong markets”). Per Libby, a Strong Floor will help the middle class regain a solid economic footing, while No Ceiling will drive and fund a thriving nation. Rather than calling for vague returns to bipartisanship and civility, the author argues that moderates should follow the example of the New Deal or Great Society by embracing sweeping legislative reforms; Americans are at their best, he argues, when executing a plan. The bulk of the text applies the author’s blueprint to specific topics, which he presents in chapter-length policy proposals that cover everything from infrastructure and education to immigration and national defense. Skeptics will likely note that Libby’s vision reflects a neoliberalism that enjoys a cozy relationship with Wall Street’s corporate sector while nodding toward improving safety nets for marginalized Americans, though the author argues that in an era often defined by division, “if 80 percent of the people who read this book agree with 80 percent of a radically moderate agenda, we can achieve great things together.” The author combines data-driven policy research (backed by more than 200 endnotes) with his personal experiences as a New York City-based venture capitalist. A photo album documenting Libby’s work alongside both Democratic and Republican elected officials emphasizes his lifelong connections to both political parties.

Owen Greene’s determined to have a good first year at Point University come hell or high water—even if hell is exactly what he gets. A team of scientists recently created a portal to an alternate dimension that contains basically every stereotypical element of a hell—“demons, brimstone, rivers of lava.” But Owen is shocked to learn that Zarmenus Bloodletter, the so-called prince of Hell, is sharing his room. And though Zarmenus turns out to be a pretty good-natured guy (and hot, too—although Owen’s trying not to notice), neither he nor his soul-stealing cat, Bell, know how to be a good roommate. There’s a lot riding on this interdimensional exchange program, which could promote harmonious human-demon relations. But then Zarmenus ropes Owen into a fake-dating scheme for the ages—Owen will help party boy Zarmenus behave better, so his father doesn’t make him leave, and in return Zarmenus will help Owen secure the internship he desperately wants. Fun gags aside, Hell is thinly sketched, and Zarmenus doesn’t experience much culture shock on Earth. But as a slow-burn romance, the story is tender, undeniably electric, and charmingly innocent, and the examination of the often-fraught first year of college is superb. Owen is cued white. Zarmenus sometimes appears as a pale-skinned human and sometimes as a towering, fiery-red, winged creature.

Of the five Normandy beaches assaulted on June 6, 1944, Americans read mostly about Omaha and Utah because that’s where Americans fought, so readers will enjoy this account of a beach code-named Sword—not only for new information but as another work by Hastings, a master of military history. He reminds readers that the landings constituted a stupendous feat of planning, logistics, training, and air and maritime organization in which the British, for the last time in the war, played the dominant part. British Field Marshal Montgomery commanded the ground forces during and after the invasion. Supreme Commander Eisenhower, as usual, ruled with a light hand. Once ashore, plans for what to do next were sketchy, and the advance stalled. Fortunately, Hastings saves this for the final pages, instead delivering a compelling account of the preparations and landing itself. Much occurred inland from the beach as a massive nighttime drop of paratrooper and glider-borne forces aimed to destroy bridges and slow German reinforcements. The author is at his best describing this combination of brilliant strategizing, heroism, and utter stupidity. Nighttime airborne operations require superb pilots; planners knew but ignored the fact that theirs would be the worst (essentially all pilot trainees yearn to fly fighters and bombers; those who don’t make the grade fly transports). Sure enough, many pilots seemed unnerved, and most casualties occurred during the flight out, but the minority of troops who landed near their target did well. Readers who expect a superb account of the action will not complain; nothing went as planned, but none of the errors, accidents, and incompetence were vital. Casualties were heavier than at Utah or Gold Beach but less heavy than at Omaha and Juno, and the Allies succeeded in their purpose and the Germans failed in theirs. Even granted the Allies’ huge superiority of means, the landings remain a supreme achievement.