Paula Spencer is back for an encore performance in Roddy Doyle’s latest miracle of a novel, “The Women Behind the Door.” In this installment, the 66-year-old mother, grandmother, recovering alcoholic and domestic violence survivor has weathered the first year of the COVID-19 lockdown in reasonably good spirits.

Her abusive husband, Charlo, is long dead, and her four adult children are finally out on their own. She has a sturdy support system in place, including best friend Mary, who got her a part-time gig at a dry cleaning shop that she enjoys; and longtime, lovably pedantic boyfriend Joe, who teaches her about high-minded things like opera, history and birds.

Then, one day in spring 2021, her eldest, 40-something daughter shows up on her doorstep and asks if she can move back home.

Over the course of this mesmerizing, dialogue-driven narrative, Doyle will gradually reveal why Nicola — Paula always considered her the most reliable of her kids — walked out on her family, including nice-guy husband Tony and their three daughters. Especially when their youngest, Lily, was still in high school.

Initially, her dramatic departure doesn’t seem to make sense. But as the two women talk and Paula reflects on her past, it becomes clear how deeply alcoholism and abuse have scarred all the members of Paula’s family, and so Nicola’s decision to walk away from hers — from any family at all — begins to seem entirely reasonable.

Doyle introduced Paula in his 1996 novel “The Woman Who Walked into Doors.” Ten years later, he wrote a follow-up, “Paula Spencer.” It is no wonder that Doyle has brought her back for another go-round. She is fabulous company, whether she is gossiping with Mary or marching through pandemic-scarred Dublin, observing the Roma people gather at the base of the James Joyce statue on North Earl Street and getting clipped by a food delivery worker zipping by on his e-bike.

With Paula, Doyle has created a fictional character as memorable as Molly Bloom or the Wife of Bath. — Ann Levin, Associated Press

I’m always amazed at how Ellen Hopkins can convey so much in so few words, residing in a gray area between prose and poetry.

Her latest novel in verse, “Sync,” does exactly that as it switches between twins Storm and Lake during the pivotal year before they age out of the foster system. Separated years ago, the two write to each other in an effort to maintain their unparalleled bond. In the process, we learn about their home life before the state of California took custody, and the placements — good and bad — in between.

Shortly after turning 17, their case workers organize a reunion. It’s enough to recharge their “sync,” but the joy from their brief reconnection is short-lived.

Storm winds up in juvenile detention when he takes justice into his own hands to avenge his girlfriend, the single good thing in his day-to-day life. And when Lake is caught in bed with her fellow foster and girlfriend, the two see no other choice but to run away and try living on their own.

This may be a young-adult novel, but the themes are definitely for mature audiences. Between sexual assault, homophobia, suicide, homelessness and all manner of child abuse, there are a lot of emotionally and psychologically challenging elements in “Sync.” On top of that, Hopkins tackles topical issues from the teens’ perspective.

As with most of Hopkins’ narrators, Storm and Lake are observant and introspective, making them relatable, thought- provoking and fun to read.

If you came for the poetry, temper your expectations — there’s not as much structural play or use of poetic devices in “Sync” as in Hopkins’ earlier YA novels.

But if you came for a stirring page-turner that sparks conversation, “Sync” is definitely a winner. — Donna Edwards, Associated Press