Spring has arrived in Quebec, sweeping in with all its glory. The scent of apple blossoms floats in the air, baby leaves shimmer in the breeze, the whole place sparkles as if studded with diamonds. But as the world thaws, forcing the earth to give up all the secrets it's been concealing beneath snow and ice, bodies began to appear. And forensic anthropologist Tempe Brennan gets very, very busy.

When Tempe's called to examine a body found bobbing in a Hemmingford, Quebec, pond, she's a little surprised - the man's sporting pink lingerie and a homemade breathing apparatus. Unfortunate fashion choice. Unfortunate, but accidental, death. Even though foul play seems unlikely, something strange (well, stranger) turns up: According to fingerprint analysis, the corpse belongs to John Charles Lowery of Lumberton, North Carolina. The same John Charles Lowery who died in a 1968 helicopter crash in the jungles of Vietnam. Was there an error in the lab's testing? Or did Lowery survive the war, letting his family mourn while he lived out the rest of his life in Canada?

The investigation takes Tempe to North Carolina, where John's father insists his son died a hero's death. Not about to disclose the unsavory details of the floater's death without absolute proof of his identity, Tempe keeps digging. Her research takes her back to her old stomping grounds - the Central Identification Laboratory (CIL), a facility in Hawaii where teams work to recover the bodies of American soldiers missing on foreign soil. While she teases information from the Quebec bones as well as those of another soldier who could be Lowery, Tempe's summoned by Honolulu's flamboyant M.E., who requests help with a shark-ravaged skeleton. As the cases all come together, Tempe makes some shocking discoveries, not the least of which is that a very dangerous someone wants to put a stop to her investigation. And, quite possibly, her life.

With bodies piling up around her, Tempe's not exactly feeling the aloha spirit. It doesn't help that she's brought along her grieving daughter, Katy, who can't seem to snap back after the death of a friend. The presence of sexy, smart aleck Detective Ryan doesn't help much either (especially with her hormones, which don't seem to understand the meaning of the words strictly professional). Ryan's daughter, Lily, who's trying to put her life back together after destroying it with drugs, is also in attendance. Tempe's idea to let the girls help each other mend while she and Ryan work on their case, isn't going quite as planned. So much for her working vacation. She'll be lucky to get out of Hawaii with her life, let alone her sanity.

I've loved Temperance Brennan from the moment I "met" her back in Deja Dead, but my enjoyment of this popular series by Kathy Reichs has been derailed a little bit by the last few books. Although Spider Bones isn't my favorite of the forensic anthropologist's adventures, I feel like it gets the series back on track with an intriguing plot, an exotic locale, plenty of action, and a heavy dose of the Brennan-Ryan banter I love so much. As in all her novels, Reichs, who is herself a forensic anthropologist, explains the science of her profession in language that is clear and never condescending. Her smart, snappy heroine is always appealing, as is Tempe's on-again-off-again love interest, Andrew Ryan. I enjoyed all of that, as well as Reichs' descriptions of the real-life Joint POW/MIA Accounting Command (JPAC) which performs incredibly important work (read more here). Naturally, I found a few things about the book irksome: I learned more about autoeroticism than I ever wanted to know (um, eeewwww); I'm getting tired of Brennan and Ryan dancing around each other (just get together already, you two!), and I wasn't wild about the inclusion of the partners' daughters in the story (Can you say selfish whiners?). All in all, though, Spider Bones reminds me of all the things I love about this series - it's fresh, fun, and fascinating. And, given this latest entry, it appears to finally be picking up some speed. I'm gladly fastening my seatbelt ...

(Readalikes: The rest of the books in the Temperance Brennan series by Kathy Reichs)

Grade: B-

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for strong language, sexual content, violence and gore

To the FTC, with love: I bought Spider Bones from Amazon using some of the millions I make from my lucrative book blogging career. Ha ha.

Jane Arrowood never appreciates how normal her life is until suddenly ... it isn't. When the 15-year-old is attacked by a shark while swimming in the ocean, everything changes in an instant. Not only does she lose her right arm, but her plight becomes a very public one. While her hospital room fills with cards, flowers, and sob stories from complete strangers, Jane's boiling on the inside. She never asked to be anyone's role model. All she wants is to rewind her life. If she could only go back, she would avoid the water like the plague. Instead, she has to face high school, her friends, her future as a one-armed freak. Sometimes, she wishes the shark had just killed her right then and there.
As much as Jane has longed to leave the hospital, she's not quite prepared for the real world. Her mother coddles her, her older brother snaps at her, and her friends can never seem to say the right things. All the tasks Jane used to do with ease - drawing, cooking for her family, even tying a trash bag - are now hopelessly complicated. Add in fierce phantom pains, horrific nightmares, and the constant staring, and Jane's life pretty much sucks. Who would want to hang out with someone like her, let alone date her or hire her for a job? The shark, she comes to realize, didn't just take her arm, it took her whole life. Will she ever get it back?
Shark Girl, a debut YA novel by Kelly Bingham, is the affecting story of a girl's loss and her struggle to come to terms with it. Written in free verse, the novel's a quick read, but one that lingers in your mind long after you finish it. While the ending may be a little too tra-la-la, the rest of it seems real enough. Jane goes through all the stages of grief as a completely sympathetic character - the reader feels her suffering keenly. It's impossible not to empathize when we're given passages like this one:
Nurse: "You're so brave, Jane."
Hospital vounteer: "You are a hero."
Physical therapist: "You're a real survivor, know that?"

When people talk like that,
I could get up and slip away
and they'd still stand there,
talking to the cartoon cloud
they've drawn over my body.

Just once,
I'd like someone to say,
"Jane, you are a mess" (52).
Ultimately hopeful, Shark Girl reminds us of the natural resilience of human beings. It's a triumphant story that preaches tolerance, compassion and the futility of self-pity. You don't need to have your flesh shredded by a shark to relate to Jane's story. It just happens as you follow this terrified, tenacious girl who's forced into battle, not with a shark, but against life itself. You won't want to tote this novel along on your next beach trip. You will want to read it. And soon.