Eich, Raymund. Take the Shilling.

Np: The Author, 2012.

I’m kind of picky about military science fiction novels because so many of them are just shoot-’em-ups with plots and characters that could as easily be set in medieval Europe or the Wild West as in the future on another planet. This one is the first in a trilogy and it’s considerably better than most — a mix of quite original social worldbuilding and universal battlefield angst. Tomas Neuman is an eighteen-year-old in a rural town on Josephine, one of the Confederated Worlds, which is at war with a rival group of planets, the Progressive Republic (known as Unity). He’s convinced himself he should enlist — with multiple motivations, as has always been the case with young men going off to war — and hopefully to get into the Space Force (which gets all the headlines). But for various reasons, he ends up in the Ground Forces as an infantryman.

Connelly, Michael. Nightshade.

NY: Little, Brown, 2025.

Connolly is best known for his twenty-year-long crime fiction featuring legendary homicide detective Harry Bosch, but he kind of wrote himself into a corner having Harry age in real time. He solved this dilemma, sort of, by inventing Harry’s half-brother, the “Lincoln Lawyer,” and then adding another lead character, Rene Ballard, a much younger detective to whom he became an unofficial mentor in his retirement. And Bosch always played a supporting role in both those spinoff series. But he isn’t going to live forever, so now the author has gone into completely new territory, and has even left L.A. proper, with Detective Sergeant Stillwell (he doesn’t seem to have a given name), once of the L.A. County Sherrif’s Department homicide squad, until he filed charges of misconduct against a fellow detective and was exiled to Catalina.

Rickloff, Alix. The Way to London.

NY: Morrow, 2017.

Okay, I’m old. I was born during World War II. And everywhere I look these days, there are “historical novels” being published that take place during the war. I have to say, it’s a bit disconcerting to read a story marketed as “historical” that’s set at a time when I was already alive. Ah, well. Most of this new crop aren’t battlefield yarns, either, but “women’s novels” set on the home front. (That’s a marketing label I flatly ignore, by the way. There are no sections at the bookstore called “Men’s fiction,” are  there? Besides, a book is either well written or it isn’t, and that’s all that matters.)

Harkaway, Nick. Karla’s Choice.

NY: Viking. 2024.

I will say first that while I enjoy espionage novels — some of them — my tastes in that regard are pretty specific. James Bond is pure comic book. That stuff makes for exciting movies, but it bears not the slightest resemblance to real world intelligence work, and never did. Tom Clancy is not much better, frankly. Graham Greene and Eric Ambler and Len Deighton and Mick Herron are quite good. But John Le Carre is several heads and shoulders above all of them. He gets down into the nuts and bolts of the secret Cold War, a very gritty, cold-blooded and psychologically enervating world indeed. I’ve read every book and novella he ever wrote, and all the Smiley books at least twice each. And I always emerge with newly-discovered nuances and understandings. So this engrossing tale is custom-made for me.

Beene, Jill M. Kill Girl.

Np: Beene, 2016.

Elayna Miller is a very professional assassin, trained by the CIA, but she went freelance after six years — which she says the Company actually likes, because they can put additional distance between you and them but still employ your skills. She has a rather personal approach to her work, though. She only hits the Bad Guys. And she spaces out the jobs she’s paid big money for with pro bono hits: People who got away with things because of money and connections, cases where the police and everyone else knew they were guilty but couldn’t find the necessary evidence to prosecute, not to mention drug dealers, human traffickers, and the like. She also has a small crew of specialists — a hacker, an electronics near-genius, a redneck explosives expert — and they’ve become like family.

Henry, Emily. Great Big Beautiful Life.

NY: Berkley, 2025.

There’s a reason Emily Henry is one of my not-long list of “automatic” authors. This is her sixth novel and it’s arguably her best yet. There are three main characters this time. First, there’s Alice Scott of Los Angeles, in her 30s, who is a staff writer for a leading celebrity-focused magazine — extended interviews and analysis of show biz and pop culture, not just a gossip rag — and while she loves her work, she’s been trying to break into “real” journalism for some time. She’s an optimistic sort, but also a very sharp and careful observer who thinks deeply about what she sees and hears. (She’s also the story’s POV character.) Then there’s Hayden Anderson of New York City, about the same age, who won a Pulitzer in biography last year for his sensitive work on the life, cognitive decline, and death of a major rock star of the 1960s. (He literally lived with his subject for five years to do it.)