The Book of Love, by Kelly Link

Teens Laura, Daniel and Mo have been missing, presumed dead for almost a year, leaving their families desolate. They have been held in some sort of limbo by a menacing presence until their music teacher somehow reanimates them, along with another shadowy being they have named Bowie. But their time back in the world will be limited, with only two of them able to stay while two will have to return, with mysterious magical tasks to complete to determine the ‘winners’. Dark supernatural forces are at the root of their dilemma. Susannah is Laura’s sister, Daniel’s lover and Mo’s friend – does she hold the key to how to handle it? This is quite literally a life or death matter for some, if not all, of them and their actions will have a profound effect on their small town and its inhabitants. It takes a very long time to get into this story, which is bogged down in detail for much of its 600+ pages. The characters are just about interesting enough to make sticking with it pay off and a dark, wry humour adds a touch of spice.

Black Bag (2025), directed by Steven Soderberg

George and Katherine Woodhouse have a long-term, successful marriage despite both holding high level security clearance in the British secret service. Certain matters must stay in the Black Bag, meaning they can’t even be disclosed to each other. George discovers that a traitor has stolen sensitive and dangerous information and there are five suspects, including his wife. Will he protect his country or his marriage? This entertaining whodunnit echoes shows such as Spooks and Slow Horses in its cynical portrayal of the intelligence services and keeps the audience guessing until the very end. Michael Fassbender and Cate Blanchett are sublime as George and Katherine and a very good supporting cast includes Tom Burke, Rege-Jean Page (not auditioning for James Bond), Naomie Harris (moving past Moneypenny) and Pierce Brosnan.

Frankie, by Graham Norton

Orphaned at 10, married off at 18, Frances Howe has had a difficult but adventurous life. From County Cork to London to New York, family, lovers and employers hinder her progress as much as help, but a good friend sustains her throughout. In her 80s and laid up with a broken ankle, Frankie shares tales of her life with a young carer who hails from her part of Ireland. Chapters alternate between the present day growing relationship of Frankie and her carer, Damien, and episodes in her past - starting in 1950s rural Ireland. But it is a strange structure; Damien is thinly drawn, clearly there just to hear Frankie’s stories, but she doesn’t actually tell them - they are written in third person and told as if in real time, with no reflection. Then the stories stop with her return to London in the 1980s, apart from a brief postscript from her best friend Nor – filling in the gap for Damien after the caring is done. It’s a moving tale of loss, love and friendship featuring a woman, lacking self-worth and easily pushed around, who slowly grows in confidence as she gains experience. But with the interesting part of her life apparently ending after the age of 50 it feels curiously incomplete, despite a bittersweet ending that is quite predictable.

The Tilt, by Chris Hammer

This sequel to Treasure & Dirt sees Nell Buchanan promoted and teamed up with Ivan Lucic in a rural Homicide flying squad, based in Dubbo. Nell is chuffed but Lucic is frustrated at being sidelined from Sydney. So he is a less than ideal partner when they are sent to investigate a skeleton that has turned up in the river near her home patch on the Victorian border. As with the previous book, an enormous cast of characters can be hard to keep track of, especially as the tale is told in three time periods involving Nell’s grandfather’s childhood in WWII and her mother’s teenage years in the early 70s. Then an ASIO investigation of neo-Nazi recruitment of preppers is thrown into the mix – interesting and topical, but there was already enough going on. It’s a gripping tale, hard to put down, and told from Nell’s point of view so a different perspective from the first book and with an interesting take on historical and contemporary water politics.

Belgravia – The Next Chapter

Taking place some 30 years after the first chapter, this focuses on Lord Frederick Trenchard, estranged from his family, ambitious and driven to succeed by his unhappy childhood. He marries the beautiful Clara Dunn, but his emotional repression and crippling self-doubt make the marriage unlikely to succeed. Social unrest, sexuality, the status of women, rampant capitalism, Bloomsbury culture, exploitation, mental illness – much is crammed into the six episodes of this mid-Victorian era soap. There is little mention and no appearance of the main characters from the first series, many of whom have conveniently died at an early age, which is odd as you would expect some contact from cousins. A rather saccharine ending strikes an odd disconnect with the fairly grim tone of most of the series. If there is to be a third chapter, hopefully the writers can make better connections between the eras and the characters.

The Great Hippopotamus Hotel, by Alexander McCall Smith

Mma Ramotswe and Mma Makutsi of Botswana’s No 1 Ladies Detective Agency are investigating the undermining of a once-popular hotel. It seems that an old enemy may be behind the troubles, but - as the great detective educator Clovis Anderson says – one should never declare victory prematurely. The thin plot is a vehicle for a series of homilies and a celebration of the land and people of Botswana. Values of kindness, respect and honesty underpin these tales set in a country where the modern world is making a late intrusion on traditions. But they are getting to be repetitive and bear a faint ring of an old man’s railing against the modern world.

Anita de Monte laughs last, by Xochitl Gonzales

In 1985, just as her career was taking off, artist Anita de Monti fell to her death from her famous sculptor husband’s 30th floor apartment. Their dysfunctional relationship was over, so did she jump or was she pushed? In the late 90s, aspiring art historian Raquel Toro has begun a relationship with an emerging artist who is a trust fund baby. Their parallel stories encompass race, class, wealth and privilege in the US art world and the wider world, also manipulation, gaslighting, coercive control and domestic violence. Chapters alternate between Anita and Raquel’s stories, the latter’s told in linear time while Anita goes back in time to explain the progression of her problematic relationship and provide at least a modicum of understanding of why she kept on with it despite all the red flags. From about half way through the book the occasional chapter goes to Jack Martin, Anita’s husband. This is jarring at first – why should he get a voice in this story? But they do serve to illuminate the heinous nature of his actions, even after her death, in erasing her from the art world as well as the actual world. Anita’s chapters continue after her death, from the spirit world where her ability to connect to the human world depends on the vitality of her work. A sense of dread builds as Raquel goes down a similar relationship path to Anita and the worry is the outcome could be the same.