That Hideous Strength,  CS Lewis.  This bloodiest and most disturbing entry in Lewis' Space Trilogy is the only one that stands well outside the series.  Its post-war horror evokes Christian symbolism and the myth of the Arthurian return, but Lewis can't resist some very nasty sterotypes (sadist Nazi lesbians and the angel in the house) amidst his blood and gore.  Perhaps the most pulp of his works as well, when I first read this as a child, I had nightmares for days about the bodyless “head.”

Bone Song by John Meaney.  An ultimately disappointing paranormal police procedural that has a world that's sadly as underutilized as its characters.  It's a premise that could have had promise in the right hands - Jim Butcher and Simon R. Green have both done wonderful things with their Dresden and Nightside series respectively - unfortunately Meaney's universe is a pale connect-the-dots version of same. 

Succubus Blues, Richelle Mead.  A book that's entirely too readable for it's own good, Succubus Blues succesfully blends comedy, romance, and mystery in a quirky paranormal entry that kept me turning pages. 

For a Few Demons More, Kim Harrison. Harrison's hardcover debut packs quite the punch, and continues to show she isn't afraid to shake things up or alienate readers.  As someone who likes unpredictability, this is refreshing as the fifth entry in a series that could have gotten stale with sameness. 

Firestorm, Rachel Caine. The fifth entry in Caine's Weather Warden series takes awhile to get started, but drags the series into familiar yet unsettling territory. 

Black Cocktail, Jonathan Carroll & Dave McKean.  Another fortuitous browse in the horror section turned up this novella, a collaboration between two of my favorite literary folks.  McKean's black and white illustrations are satisfyingly sketchy, almost soiled, like some of his covers on the 'Preludes and Nocturnes' arc of Sandman.  Carroll's story matches them well, weaving a subtle horror that evokes tales from his collection The Panic Hand.  It's short, beautiful, and takes on themes like the division of soul and eternal stagnation with aplomb.

Benighted, Kit Whitfield.
A compulsively satisfying browse pickup from the horror section of the public library, Benighted is easily the best Were novel I've read all year, possibly because it takes itself seriously enough to masquerade as Literature with a capital L. Whitfield's premise is that on an earth similar to ours, 'luning' is the rule, rather than the exception, and the occasional human with a birth defect that prevents turning furry every full moon is conscripted into a government agency to police Moon Night roving.

Grave Surprise, Charlaine Harris.  The second in Harris' "Grave" series is good, but lacks the punch of the Sookie Stackhouse novels.  Perhaps this is because despite the psychic element, the mystery is firmly grounded in the real world, and otherwise an unremarkable, if tightly-plotted potboiler.  Genre fans will appreciate the heavier emphasis on mystery, but I was hoping for more actual character development for Harper.  That said, it's a solid sequel, and an easy way to pass an afternoon.

The Nimble Man , Christopher Golden, Thomas E. Sniegoski - some days Amazon's recommendation feature really works. This is my first exposure to Golden outside of the Buffy novels and comics, and on the whole, I'm pretty pleased. He and Sniegoski have set up a world that's becoming pretty standard for the paranormal mystery set - vampires, demons, faeries, and other-worldly stuff running around in a world where knowledge of the Other isn't outed like the Anita Blake and Kim Harrison series’.

Cell, Stephen King.   My second proper Stephen King, and I've actually read it relatively recent to its release date. It's a zombie book, dedicated to George Romero and Richard Matheson, and while it's far from great, it's solidly good. There are some nice musings on zombie brain theory hinted at by Romero's Land of the Dead, and nods to neocyberpunk authors Neal Stephenson and Bruce Sterling. But after watching handfuls of proper zombie flicks, it's still never truly terrifying, and finds an ending in ambiguity.