Books We Loved, Apr. 2026

April—how can one not love a month known for spring flowers, gentle rain, lengthening sunny days that usually avoid extremes of heat and cold? Even amid a warming world, April generally shines. Yet somehow the books we loved this month explore the darker sides of life, with two Gothic tales and one contemporary story about recovery from loss and grief. And it’s not just that we read them this month; two of the three came out on March 31, 2026. Read on to find out more about these maybe-not-quite-springlike reads.

Linda Hamilton, The Fourth Wife (Kensington Books, 2026)

The Fourth Wife (Kensington, 2026) takes place near Salt Lake City, Utah, during the years when the Mormon community there still practiced polygamy but was coming under increasing pressure from the US government to abandon the practice, pressure that included a law making multiple, simultaneous marriages a criminal offense.

It’s 1882. Twenty-year-old Hazel Russon, a talented pianist, has grown up in a polygamous family, but she has a secret agreement with her childhood friend Elijah Crowther that they will become each other’s only spouse once they are permitted to marry.

When Elijah’s father, a powerful figure in Salt Lake City society, summons Hazel and informs her that Elijah has rejected her in favor of a return to the fundamental principles of Mormon life—the most fundamental of which is polygamy, known only as the Principle—she is shattered by her love’s betrayal. As a result, she allows Elder Crowther to talk her into becoming the fourth wife of Brother Jacob Manwaring, a wealthy older man who promises Hazel a home of her own, including a piano.

Hazel has long struggled with what most of us in the twenty-first century would categorize as an anxiety disorder, in part caused by the difficulty she has in meeting the extreme demands of her religion for female submissiveness. And although initially attracted to Jacob, she soon discovers that not everything Elder Crowder told her about her husband-to-be was the truth….

It’s all delightfully creepy and fast-paced, and the interactions among Jacob’s wives are even more interesting than those between them and Jacob.—CPL

Alex E. Harrow, Starling House (Tor, 2023)

Starling House features the most down-and-out narrator in a long time, a poverty-stricken orphan with low self-esteem, little education, and an atrocious junk food diet. Despite her tribulations, Opal has one dream in life, not for herself—that would be too much—but for her gifted younger brother. She wants a better life for him, away from their small town with its alarmingly high death rate.

To that end, in a move typical of Gothic novels, she wrangles a job at Starling House, a mansion with a recluse and a story. The sullen young man, Arthur, pays her well while secretly hoping she’ll go away if he’s rude enough. Opal may have some character deficiencies, but she’s not a quitter. Rather than being scared off, she becomes fascinated with the house and deals with Arthur’s brusqueness by making witty remarks.

As it turns out, the sentient mansion has plans for her, and Arthur has tried to chase her off to save her from sharing his fate. The mansion’s caretakers are tasked with fighting the monsters that stalk the town’s inhabitants. While Arthur tries to rescue Opal, and Opal tries to save her brother, both are drawn closer in their struggle.

Inventive, atmospheric, and unexpectedly romantic, Starling House is a good fit for readers wanting a new twist on traditional Gothic novels.—GM

Lynn C. Miller, The Surrogate  (University of Wisconsin Press, 2026)

Alex, the narrator of The Surrogate, has grown up in nearly idyllic circumstances. Although she is an only child, her mother’s twin sister married her father’s best friend, and both families settled in the same community in the vibrant city of Albuquerque. Moreover, her aunt and uncle (Frannie and Theo) raised two sons, and while the eldest, Stephen, has always had anger issues and is sometimes harder to love (though Alex manages), she adores Rolf, the younger one. Everyone in this extended family does. And so when Rolf, at age twenty-seven, dies suddenly in a car accident, it’s as if the world has come to an end.

Rolf’s death occurs on the first pages of the novel and what follows is the family’s attempt to come to terms with their grief. Close observation of the family members’ individual and collective struggles allows the reader to get to know them well, and they are all engaging people pursing intriguing goals. Alex herself is completing a dissertation that will lead to a career in psychology, the same field in which her mom works, at the time of Rolf’s death. While she is able to stay the course professionally, Alex, who is bisexual, is unable to hold up her end in her current relationship, and Nita, unable to handle Alex’s dissociation, leaves her for more obliging pastures.

The unsettling transition from grief to solace shifts some when a young man, Nathaniel, walks into Aunt Frannie’s bookstore one day to look for a book and immediately wins over Aunt Frannie’s heart. For the first time in months, healing seems possible. Frannie invites him to one of the extended family’s biweekly dinners, and before long, all of the family members—except Stephen, who is deeply suspicious of Nathaniel—fall for him. He is the surrogate of the title. A man with no family ties of his own, he seems to have something in common with each of the family members, including Alex herself. She makes room for him in her life when she learns he likes the same movies—thrillers from the 1940s and 1950s—that she does, and before long, and in spite of Stephen’s warnings, Alex and Nathaniel begin a friendship that only becomes more intimate over time.

The Surrogate begins in 2007, when support for alternative lifestyles (Alex’s bisexuality, and Rolf was gay) were on the rise. Readers will remember it was also just before the housing bubble burst and all the financial mayhem that entailed. Stephen is a financial advisor whose father entrusted him to make decisions about much of his savings. The ramifications of the Great Recession of 2008 affect the whole family, but Uncle Theo in particular. The liberties Stephen took with his dad’s finances bring up issues of trust, as do some of the behaviors Nathaniel begins exhibiting.

The story that unfolds in The Surrogate might not have happened long ago enough to be considered historical fiction, but its depiction of 2007–2008 feels spot on, politically, fiscally and socially. The characters work at jobs they love and are even able to make a living in the arts. There is a kindness, a tolerance for “other” that is harder to spot these days than it was then. Against this background, issues of trust—and matters of intent—are especially apt for inspection. The Surrogate is a beautifully written, thought-provoking novel about characters who feel absolutely genuine.—JS