Al-Wasity’s debut blends gothic fantasy with grounded refugee and class concerns to engrossing, if occasionally uneven, effect. Three years before the start of the book, Leena Al-Sayer developed “an affliction”­—the ability to see ghosts. With her widowed father imprisoned for trying to form a union and her brother desperately ill, Leena takes the secret of her affliction to the powerful Bram St. Silas, also called the Saint of Silence, in hopes of trading it for enough money to buy medicine. St. Silas does indeed pay for Leena’s secret, and also, unexpectedly, hires her to track down a ghost for him, leading Leena deep into the secrets and conspiracies woven into the fabric of both their lives. The details of Leena’s cultural heritage and refugee community are well-drawn and fascinating, but, in the second half of the story, they take a backseat to more familiar feeling aristocratic drama. Still, captivating characters, unexpected romance, and a devastating cliffhanger ending will leave readers eager for more. Agent: Chloe Seager, Madeleine Milburn Literary. (Feb.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

A child’s perspective creates both suspense and whimsy in this dream-like, far-future science fiction novella from Gordon (One Bronze Knuckle). The young protagonist, Anny, lives in the village of Tsedt with her family. She spends her days making toy mice out of bits of discarded fluff and bonding with her grandfather, who recently arrived in town with his loyal caretaker robot, Osker. Her peaceful life is upended, however, when two strangers and a sentient robot called an Amau visit from Harbor, the mysterious nearby city, and ominously invite older village children to return with them for “well-being and learning.” When Anny’s older sister, Leeza, is called to Harbor, her parents follow, but Anny and her grandfather retreat to the family farm. Eventually, however, the city people track them down and take Anny to participate in a series of mysterious experiments. As Anny struggles to escape and reunite with her loved ones, she discovers unexpected powers within herself. Anny’s sweet narration keeps the creepier worldbuilding elements from getting too dark, and her innocent confusion adds to the sense of mystery, though some readers may grow frustrated with the drawn-out ambiguity. Still, anyone looking for fascinating cyberpunk told with all the comfort of a children’s classic will be delighted. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

This tongue-in-cheek cozy fantasy from Waggoner (The Village Library Demon-Hunting Society) pokes gentle fun at fantasy archetypes, including prophetic woodland creatures and wicked witches. When sensible Gretsella, who bills herself as “the Witch of Brigandale with the Reasonable Prices,” discovers a baby on her doorstep, she adopts the child, despite knowing that he’s more than likely a lost prince. Gretsella’s crone friends bless the boy, dubbed Bradley, with beauty, politeness, and a strong right hook (if not a surfeit of intelligence), and he grows up to become a perfectly adequate young man. Upon turning 18, Bradley is called to reclaim his rightful throne, much to Gretsella’s dismay. When Bradley’s tenure as king gets off to a rocky start, Gretsella travels to the castle and takes charge with some witchy magic and a no-nonsense attitude. It soon becomes clear to her that Bradley isn’t cut out to be king, so she resolves to overthrow him for his own good. But her plan of introducing democracy to Brigandale proves difficult. The plot feels breezy and the characterization doesn’t go particularly deep, but Waggoner’s humorous and warmhearted approach charms. Readers seeking fun and clever comfort reading will find this hits the spot. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

From Nebula award winner El-Mohtar (The River Has Roots) comes a collection of 14 stories and four poems that shine both individually and as a whole. Blending fantasy, magical realism, and speculative fiction, and often rooted in history, myth, or legend, these tales range widely across time and place but are connected, as El-Mohtar writes in her introduction, by her love of women: “I love women talking to each other. I love women... offering up the stories of themselves to each other’s tender scrutiny. I love women being friends and being lovers, in all of their shapes, across the breadth and depth of their lives.” Indeed, her wonderfully unique heroines are drawn with depth and compassion. In “Madeleine,” the eponymous heroine, grieving the death of her mother, who had Alzheimer’s, participates in an experimental anti-dementia drug trial and begins to have intense flashbacks in which an unfamiliar figure becomes a new friend. “Florilegia; or, Some Lies About Flowers,” follows a Blodeuwedd, a woman constructed out of vegetation drawn from Welsh mythology, who has been brought into existence by magic to be an ideal wife. Meanwhile, the poetry, presented in both English and Arabic, delves into real-world struggles while still showcasing El-Mohtar’s characteristic lyricism and striking imagery. There’s not a false note here. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

Kaplan (When the Night Bells Ring) serves up an eerie feast for the senses in this addictive horror novel. Brynn Werner, lead singer of the metal band Queen Carrion, vanished into thin air after an unexplained episode of mass hysteria during one of her shows. Now, on the one-year anniversary of her disappearance, her former bandmates Harlow, Wendy, Lou, and Rhys, along with Rhys’s girlfriend, Jacqueline, gather at a remote cabin in the Oregon forest. Their excursion quickly goes awry: the cabin has a menacing aura, the surrounding woods echo Brynn’s voice, and Rhys soon succumbs to a mysterious infection. It slowly becomes clear that the group has been deliberately caught in the web of a biological experiment—and their captors have no intention of letting them leave. Kaplan smoothly blends body horror and emotional trauma, imbuing each memorable character with psychological depth. Most impressively, all the chaos and gore never overshadow the intense grief at the heart of the page-turning plot. The result is as beautiful and moving as it is creepy. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

Fridman-Tell’s gorgeous debut fantasy luxuriates on the border between romance and horror. At eight, Rory doesn’t know why his older sister, Wynne, is suddenly too busy to play with him. To get him to leave her alone, Wynne offers to build Rory a new playmate, a girl with a body woven of vines, branches, and flowers. Rory doesn’t understand what it means that his new best friend, Daye, is a Blodeuwedd, or “flower girl,” until the summer wanes and her body begins to disintegrate. Terrified, Rory begs Wynne to put Daye back together, and then teach him the magic to keep her alive, rebuilding her with fresh plants every season. As seasons stretch into years, Rory’s love for Daye grows and it becomes ever harder to imagine his life without her. He goes to greater and greater lengths to give her a body free from the constant threat of decay—but along the way, what Daye wants for her own life gets lost in his obsession. Fridman-Tell uses her eerie fairy tale premise to masterfully unpick all of the squirmy ethical implications of the created-lover trope, spinning a story that is as powerful in its human aspects as in its magic. This stuns. Agent: Hillary Jacobson, CAA. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 01/09/2026 | Details & Permalink

Bestseller Ward (The Beloved) kicks off a new series with this bumpy slow-burning romantasy. Orphaned Sorrel has been shunned by her fellow villagers her entire life for her magical ability to foresee and experience the sensations of a person’s death when she looks into their eyes. When the Fulcrum, a recently crumbling magical wall outside the village that keeps demons away, kills a local boy, Sorrel becomes the target of an angry mob that blames her for not preventing the death. Desperate to escape, she makes a deal with brooding mercenary Merc: a night in his bed in exchange for safe passage to another city. Prior to leaving, Sorrel’s former employer gives her a magical compass and a black crown and tasks her with returning it to the legendary warrior queen to whom, he claims, Sorrel has a surprising connection. As Sorrel and Merc travel the monster-riddled wasteland, they slowly give in to their growing feelings. Ward’s worldbuilding is vivid and Sorrel’s magic is unique, but it takes too long to get the characters on their quest and into the meat of the story. This uneven pacing also leaves the relationship between Sorrel and Merc, while intense and spicy, feeling rushed. There’s plenty to enjoy here, but readers will hope book two is better constructed. (Feb.)

Reviewed on 01/02/2026 | Details & Permalink

Messersmith-Glavin makes her fiction debut (after the essay collection Spirit Things) with this ambitious speculative work, the first in her Tellers series, set in a ruined and rebuilt far-future world in which physical violence has been replaced with combat magic conjured through the act of storytelling. Chapters alternately follow Kell, who undertakes scouting missions across the broad desert through her gods-granted gift of listening to the pulses of stones, and Shade, a small but mighty nonbinary storyteller, whose prowess in the underground storytelling arena of the poor and rough area of the city in which they live leads them to a strange bargain. When one of the pulsar stones is stolen by generals from the city of Soogway, Kell’s and Shade’s worlds are both altered in distinct ways. It’s a lot of complex worldbuilding to catch up on quickly, but Messersmith-Glavin helps readers orient themselves by interspersing snippets of lore told as myth or legend throughout. The magic system is clever and unique, though Shade’s stories, which often take the form of fable, can feel familiar and even occasionally preachy. Still, readers seeking surprising postapocalyptic fiction will want to check this out. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 01/02/2026 | Details & Permalink

Loyalty and peace buckle under the strain of ambition in Tamaki’s densely poetic debut and Autumn Empire series launch, set in a Japan-inspired secondary world. Kai and Sen, orphaned when their parents took up arms against the Imperial chancellor, seek to redeem the family name, with Kai maneuvering openly at court and Sen secretly raised by another noble family. Their uncle, Yora the Poet, tries to maintain his position with the chancellor but finds it increasingly difficult as the chancellor schemes to put his own family into the Imperial succession. Meanwhile, Rui, a peasant woman and Sen’s childhood friend, finds herself at the mercy of Hososhi, the “guardian-god of the barrier between our world and the next,” who seeks to vanquish a vengeance-summoned demon. Past crimes come to light, debts come due, and civil war brews as monks fight for temple authority, an Emperor is pushed aside for his infant son, and warriors clash in epic sword battles. Tamaki drops readers straight into this well-stocked stew of rivalries, drawing deeply from Japanese history and Samurai sagas. It can be a challenge to keep track of the fast-moving coups and battles, but lovely snippets of poetry, appealing protagonists, and fascinating interpersonal dynamics will keep readers hooked. Tamaki is an exciting new voice in epic fantasy. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 01/02/2026 | Details & Permalink

The first in a duology, this disappointing dark fantasy from bestseller Reid (Lady Macbeth) gets off to a strong start but quickly loses focus. The story’s ascetic, nonspeaking heroine, Lady Agnes of the land of Deprane’s fallen House of Teeth, hopes to use her cousin Marozia’s marriage to Prince Liuprand, scion of the conquering House of Berengar, to find a way to raise her recently deceased grandmother from the dead. The secrets of necromancy, developed by the nobles of Drepane generations prior, were stolen and hidden by the House of Berengar. Agnes’s slow but steady investigation keeps the pages turning, but as her mission brings her and Liuprand closer, she forsakes her grandmother’s cause for his love. The romance plot, built on the characters’ instalust, quickly overshadows the intrigue and frustratingly strips Agnes of agency, transforming her into a complacent protagonist pushed around by forces outside of her control. Reid’s language is lush and she grapples with some deliciously dark gothic themes, but the storytelling is not well served by the flat, fairy tale–esque characterizations. The result lacks both direction and, ironically, teeth. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 01/02/2026 | Details & Permalink