Enid, who’s nearly 70, is no stranger to grief, having lost her brother at a young age, but nothing prepares her for the death of her husband, Hugo.The two built a quiet life together, marked by pleasant morning coffees and strolls through the local grocery store. As they grew older, however, they came face-to-face with the inevitable: One of them would have to go on living without the other. Hoping to ease their future pain, the couple turned to Assembled Souls—a new artificial-intelligence technology that digitally recreates loved ones after their deaths. Enid was initially uneasy with the idea, but after Hugo died unexpectedly in his sleep, she must now confront the unthinkable. With just a year to decide whether to activate Hugo’s holographic Assembled Soul, Enid wrestles with uncertainty, writing letters to her late spouse, reflecting on their shared past and on her future without him. When she finally decides to bring the Assembled Soul online, she’s struck by how familiar the simulation seems: “He was perfectly Hugo. A shudder went through her. And then another.” Although she’s troubled by inconsistencies in its memory and the impossibility of physical touch, she soon settles into old patterns with the new Hugo. Equal parts heartwarming and bittersweet, Monier’s novel reimagines the universal experience of grief through the lens of technology, addressing both the comfort and the uncanniness that AI can bring. With cutting-edge technologies emerging around the globe, the author effectively asks what this kind of tech-assisted afterlife would look like in the real world, where people are already turning to chatbots to fill emotional voids. Some readers may wish that the novel probed the emotional and ethical implications of its premise more deeply. However, the bond between Enid and Hugo remains tender and affecting, while also reminding readers that not everything that technology allows can replicate reality.

This fourth installment of a series finds Farrell’s main characters, part-time private investigator Eddie O’Connell and his Uncle Mike, once again caught up in horse racing, bookmaking, and the mob. Mike, a retired cop, is the owner of O’Connell’s Tavern in Chicago, where Eddie acts as bar manager. As the novel opens, Eddie’s girlfriend, Nicole Nicoletti, gets a surprise visit from Jessie Rivera, who’s part of a “power couple” in Chicago horse racing. Jessie’s partner is Sal, Nicole’s horse trainer father, who is accused of doping his steeds. He maintains he’s being framed, but nevertheless, he faces a serious suspension. The mere hint of the crime initially chills Eddie’s sympathies, since he has grown up around the racing world and hates the idea of drugging horses. “I’d heard of other trainers being suspended for juicing, and all I had to say was ‘good riddance,’ ” he thinks. “Horses had suffered, and some had died during a race.” Eddie and Nicole begin to investigate Sal’s situation, which gets much darker almost immediately when Jessie is found shot dead. Eddie, Nicole, and Mike naturally suspect Jessie’s brother, Ramon, fresh from a stint in prison for drug running for a major cartel (“A proud man,” an exercise rider describes him. “And a proud man is the worst kind of man”). The murder also draws the attention of the local mob boss Rosario Burrascano (“If you’re the mob’s gambling boss and a murder occurs at the last race track in town,” Mike says, “you get a handle on it”). The heroes are soon neck-deep in a complex web of conflicting motives.

As in the previous volumes in this thriller series, Farrell once again strikes the perfect pace for this tangle of narrative threads. He dispenses with the usual exposition baggage that dogs later books in an ongoing series by gradually and subtly working background and context into the dialogue, which makes up by far the largest part of the novel. Readers see everything through Eddie’s eyes, and since he’s once again the least developed of the story’s characters, the effect is very close to impersonal narration. He’s convincingly emotional about the turmoil Nicole is going through, and when the strain of her father’s scandal and Jessie’s murder starts to fray the edges of her relationship with Eddie, the interpersonal stuff feels real. Farrell is adept at continuously complicating his narrative without leaving his readers behind; it’s a good bet that even newcomers to the series could start with this volume and get along just fine. And as usual, Mike steals the show, always both the voice of experience and the fountain of rough humor. “Uncle Mike had worked murder cases that could pull the heartstrings to the breaking point, yet he was still able to maintain his sense of humor,” Eddie marvels at one point. “His skin was thicker than cowhide.” The heroes’ bleak sentiments fill the gripping book’s darker second half. “We lived in a world where fentanyl could be cooked up in a kitchen in Mexico by first year chemistry students,” Eddie thinks at one point. “Chasing new drugs was like playing whack-a-mole.”

This monograph of wet-on-wet watercolor paintings features dynamic urban scenes in which light operates without conventional logic: “Broad swaths of light sweep and swoop down and across and up and away,” lending skyscrapers, bridges, and monuments “a friendly but fierce and almost otherworldly energy.” The artist’s loose, gestural approach offers a refreshing departure from the rigid linear representations that typically characterize urban landscapes. LePan’s “mind’s-eye painting” philosophy—in which visual perception mingles freely with emotion and memory—is reminiscent of artists like David Hockney, Raoul Dufy, and Oskar Kokoschka. The approach yields consistently vibrant results; outstanding examples include his breakthrough Chicago (1994), in which the Sears Tower and Merchandise Mart pulse with raw metropolitan energy, and New Orleans (2007), which captures both post-Katrina devastation and the city’s irrepressible vitality through bold color contrasts and flowing forms. While the majority of works depict North American cityscapes and baseball stadiums—the artist’s twin passions—the collection also includes more intimate European city scenes and occasional bucolic landscapes that demonstrate his range beyond urban subjects, though the author’s text accompanying the images proves uneven. It provides valuable historical context about urban development and architectural history, enriching readers’ understanding of landmarks from the Woolworth Building to Calgary’s Petro-Canada Centre, and its insights into the artistic process offer genuine illumination for those interested in watercolor technique. However, the autobiographical framework grows repetitive, with frequent accounts of conference travels and hotel stays. Compelling personal details—family relationships, career tensions, emotional responses to urban environments—rarely cohere into insightful reflections. Readers will want to learn more about how the artist sees his personal life and experiences reflected in his work.

After a meteor crashes near Vincennes, Indiana, a cockroach-like, gigantic kaiju crawls out and starts causing mayhem; the U.S. military dubs it the Palmetto Bug Monster. A second behemoth soon appears in Alaska—a massive creature akin to a gecko, which surfaces in a dormant volcano. It’s the latter kaiju—regrettably referred to by authorities as “He-Knew-Pat-Sajak,” an ignorant mispronunciation of an Unangax̂ term—that catches the attention of TV news reporter Eve Sanderborn, self-proclaimed cryptozoologist Usotsuki Shirinigatsuku, and retired U.S. Army Gen. Buchanan Richardson. The second kaiju heads towards an unpopulated peninsula; it will soon face the Palmetto Bug Monster, which flies to Alaska, intent on battle. An alien android comes to Alaska in a silver droplet-shaped spaceship, claiming that the titanic lizard is a specifically designed “countermeasure.” These aforementioned Earthlings, along with local innkeeper Gustav Bishop and teenage bellhop Bugsy Morton, can help the android establish a link with the creature and take down the other kaiju. Sumac’s tongue-in-cheek story tends to focus on the cast’s quarrels and heated discussions. The various characters are an unusual bunch: Eve’s cameraman, Bernie, may have a drinking problem; Usotsuki, who has ties to organized crime, likely derives his expertise from Godzilla movies; and Bugsy fights off bullies with his martial arts skills. Even the giant monsters prove distinctive, as one is ridiculously ferocious while the other, which ultimately has a voice (of sorts), may be the humans’ ally. The satire, though overt, is never overwhelming, with barbs that target a largely incompetent U.S. military and presidential administration. The unraveling story takes some surprising turns, including an unexpected character death and a surprising missing-person subplot.

Bridget Higgins is only 7 when she loses her mother and her stepfather in an explosive fire at an Arkansas law firm. Thirtysomething Claire Foster’s parents died in the same fire, which she survived, although her memory of the night is foggy, and her suspicious cop boyfriend is certain that she’s faking her amnesia to hide her culpability. Sometime later, Claire has a fateful run-in with successful wellness media influencer Barbara O’Malley, just after the latter killed a man who was stalking her. As a result, the pair shares a dark secret. Tech-savvy Claire becomes Barbara’s assistant; it’s a “job of a lifetime,” but Claire’s growing envy of her wealthy, glamorous boss eventually sullies it. As the years pass, Bridget aspires to be a brand influencer, which she hopes to jump-start by sharing her original horror stories online. She idolizes Barbara, whom she one day gets the chance to meet—although not in a way that readers will anticipate. Fontainne and Emmes’ narrative features a good deal of murky backstory, including the largely mysterious fire. Nevertheless, the novel’s engaging character development, which builds over more than a decade, makes the wait for big reveals worthwhile. The three main characters, who alternate first-person narration, are all fascinating in their own ways, and more than one of them dabbles in blackmail. The story opens on a somber note and somehow gets gloomier as it goes along, with character-centric chapters highlighting a variety of pitfalls, including resentment, vanity, and a craving for fame. The authors maintain a steady pace until the sensational final act, which is drawn out to great effect and closes the novel with a satisfying punch.