The single-line summary on the cover of some editions of this title reads, “She escaped a serial killer. Then things got weird.” I’ve loved the proliferation of murder mysteries featuring a heavy dose of dark humor that have swept publishing over the last few years, and the glitzy Las Vegas setting in Killing Me secures this as a summer read for me. The protagonist is far from perfect but you’ll still want to root for her; the supporting cast will win your heart, and the twists are just frequent and surprising enough to keep the pages turning.

A woman wakes up alone in her bed. Her husband has vanished. She’s on vacation in a strange place with no idea where her husband may have gone, and in every place she turns she finds no help- or worse, is met with suspicion. Pavone paints a beautiful picture of Lisbon; it’s an interesting juxtaposition, where the setting should make you yearn to be there, but each chapter brings new revelations and a heightened sense of dread. If you’re looking for a taut thriller to read on the beach, poolside, or on the patio, this is a great pick.

Cleeton is, to my mind, one of the most underrated authors of historical fiction writing today. Is it because she sometimes allows women’s faces to be seen on her book covers, while others in the genre stick to the “women in period costume facing away” template? Hard to say. What is clear is her talent for creating three-dimensional women characters in rich historical settings. The Cuban Heiress is a great example of Cleeton’s ability to weave the lives and storylines of disparate characters together throughout her books, generally in a tropical setting (think Florida, Cuba, or here, a luxury ship), always with an immensely satisfying ending.

This book is perfect for anyone who has wished for death over the prospect of replying to one more email. Sue skewers workplace culture and the characters she writes are laugh-out-loud funny, but be careful, those same characters develop over time and the same people you at first found annoying for microwaving popcorn in the break room or asking for help doing the same thing you’ve shown them 20 times become surprisingly relatable and even heartbreakingly vulnerable the more you learn about them. Perfect for anyone who has ever had to work with human beings, and great for summer because does anyone ever want to be at work in this season?

This is a funny but heartfelt coming-of-age tale, set in a 1980s summer, in the Hamptons. That should be enough to place it on any summer Must-Read list, but thankfully, because it’s Colson Whitehead, it doesn’t stop there. The writing is superb and the story feels authentic; it’s based on Whitehead’s own experiences as a Black kid who went to a mostly-white Manhattan prep school but spent his summers in Sag Harbor, an enclave for Black upper class professionals. If you’ve read some of Whitehead’s other works like Underground Railroad or Nickel Boys you might think that such a premise as this will necessarily be lacking in the gravitas of those other books, but you would be wrong: although lighter in tone, there is much to be gleaned from Sag Harbor.

Finding out you’ve been left a life-changing inheritance from a relative to whom you have no emotional attachment is the dream, right? Our hero, Charlie, has a somewhat sad but entirely relatable life when he finds out a long-lost uncle has bequeathed him his fortune and his business. His supervillain business. Charlie must learn how to fend off rival supervillains, do right by his new employees, and survive each day in this new world.

According to the internet [so insert grain of salt here], the author was watching The Princess Bride with his family when his wife complained of Buttercup’s passivity given her circumstances. This inspired Sanderson to write Tress in secret, eventually surprising his wife with the story, who in turn urged him to publish it more widely. Tress is an appealing protagonist, the world she inhabits is wildly creative, and you’ll finish the book hoping for more adventures with Tress and crew.

First of all, the dedication in this book reads, “For anybody who could use a break.” Second, we have a book club here at the library whose majority is very vocal about the fact that they neither read nor care for the Science Fiction and Fantasy genres. I knew this would be a hard sell. (Overheard grumbling when I handed out copies of the book: “There’s a robot on the cover!”) But at 147 pages, I asked the participants to trust me and give it a try- even if it didn’t end up being their cup of tea, I believed they could stick it out for a book this short. Lo and behold, a month later we met again, and 18 out of 21 participants enjoyed it immensely, much to everyone’s surprise.