The Midnight Library

A red-haired innkeeper, now quiet and unremarkable, sits down to tell the true story of how he became the most notorious name in the land. It's all firelight and music and a poor clever boy talking his way into an arcane university. The prose is honey-slow and gorgeous; settle in and let it take its time.

The third princess, raised quiet in a convent, decides to kill the prince who's hurting her sister, so she builds a dog out of bones and sets off. What she gathers along the way is a ramshackle little band: a dust-wife, a disgraced knight, a demon-haunted hen. Grim fairy-tale bones, but unexpectedly tender. Read it when you want grit and warmth in the same breath.

Fourteen-year-old Mona can do exactly one thing: make dough do as it's told, which is how she ends up with a sourdough familiar and a city to save. It's flour-dusted and funny and braver than it looks, with a real lump-in-the-throat heart. Read it when you want a small hero and a warm kitchen against a dark night.