Divine Madness, Melanie Jackson.  Set in the same universe as her Divine Fire, Jackson posits that the fabled Ninon has also gained supernatural long life.  Fleeing the evil St. Germain, Ninon and her cat trek into the American midwest, where she falls in love with an Aztec death god's son and battles ghouls to save her skin.  Entertaining, and surprisingly literate in parts, this is low-calorie brain candy with a reference list that'll keep the history geek happy.

Ghosts of Albion, Christopher Golden, Amber Benson. Spun off from the excellent BBC webplay, Ghosts of Albion tracks the continuing adventures of the young spiritual protectors of England as they battle the horrors of a warped Indian invasion. Plagues of frogs, dark sepulchres, and Haggardian motifs make this a roaring modern pulp; while I've no doubt that many postcolonialists would take offense at the very traditional handling of subject matter, I found it great fun.

The Forsaken, L.A. Banks.  Far more didactic than the earlier novels in Banks' vampire series, large parts of The Forsaken read like instructional manuals on how to treat a loved one with respect.  (Literal "this is what you have to do" passages from one character to another.)  This slows down the book considerably, sidetracking the otherwise interesting variant history of Cain, and Banks' incorporation of Atlantis and the Philadelphia Experiement with the biblical land of Nod.  It's ponderous, slow, and more unforgivably, long.  Not a good sign for a series that shows every sign of continuing from the advertising in the back.

Bloodangel, Justine Musk.  The cover offers a blurb from Poppy Z. Brite, and it was Brite I most often thought of while reading this.  Bloodangel might flippantly be described as Brite-lite - Brite is one of the few authors whose craft I respect without being able to read any longer;  the darkness in works like Lost Souls and her short works is unrelenting and far, far too sharp for me to stomach.  Musk's Bloodangel successfully balances on the knife edge between darkness and revulsion; it offers destructive behavior, otherworldly ennui and disaffected youth alongside a reasonably inventive reconstruction of demonology and Aboriginal evocations of the dream-time.  The characters have just enough humanity in them to make you want to know more, and while the ending's conclusive enough, this is a world I wouldn't mind seeing more of in future works.

Doppelganger, Marie Brennan.  Yet another entry promoted as part of the ballooning "paranormal" genre, Brennan's novel is a mix of RPG medieval fantasy and witchcraft that successfully works one idea through to completion.   Running with the idea that everyone has a double, Brennan supposes that witches in her world can't practice magic if the doppelganger still lives. 

The Ferryman, Christopher Golden. An uncommonly poignant horror novel. Golden's heroine, Janine, has a near death experience during a miscarriage and spurns the offer of Charon, the Ferryman, to carry her into death. As she puts her life back together, a series of strange terrifying events slowly bring her to the realization that the Ferryman may have followed her to the living world. This movie-of-the-week plot is surpassed by Golden's wonderfully human supporting characters, and Janine's own resiliance. A quick and worthy read.

The Talisman, Stephen King and Peter Straub.  A huge, sprawling coming of age tale packed with elements of King's Dark Tower series, and closely connected to the mythos.  This one took me a long time to read, but I never found myself losing interest - the collaborative success is not in the creation of any original elements, but in the literate blending of familiar themes and tropes.  "Travelling" Jack is King's usual young boy-child heroine who experiences a bit of the Kerouacian road narrative, a bit of the fantastic notions of good and evil writ large, and an overlarge helping of other childhood novels, from Huckleberry Finn to The Silver Chair.  One could easily write a paper on the notion of the "nightmare Narnia" King and Straub briefly mention - the ending is an unusual high note for a King tale and seems to borrow heavily from a certain scene in The Magician's Nephew and many Asian folktales. 
Despite some horrific moments, this is equally recommended as a layered young adult novel of which I'd love to see more.

Moon's Web, C. T. Adams & Cathy Clamp.  This sequel to Hunter's Moon moves into established otherworld territory neatly without losing the charm of its former mob hitman werewolf.  Adams and Clamp do try to do a little much with the etiquette and behavior demanded of each kind of Sazi pack, but its interesting to see some more unusual shapeshifters like were-snakes and reptiles.  (Were spiders are just squicky.)  By the end of the novel, the character focus has shifted to the forbidden romance between a pair of were-snakes, and the complicated politics this precipitates; there's easily enough material for a sequel, but I do hope any following entries are more cohesive.

Smoke and Ashes, Tanya Huff.  The third of Huff's "Smoke.." spinoff (picking up from her Vickie Nelson "Blood.." books) gives Tony more of an active role as he begins to come into his own as a wizard.  A demon, dimensional portal openings, and a minor cameo appearance by Henry Fitzroy make this a fast, entertaining read.

Don of the Dead, Casey Daniels. More chick-lit than mystery, this is cute, but I'm hoping the author gives us a bit more sleuthing in later books. Main character Pepper Martin is an airheaded Cordelia Chase meets Sookie Stackhouse - a low wage job-worker more concerned with fashion than things cerebral who can see ghosts after a nasty crack on a mausoleum. The ghost in question is the title Don, a mob boss who wants his death investigated so he can rest in piece. Plenty of Sopranos jokes and screwball comedy, but the "mystery" is only window dressing for the character's oft-mentioned enormous bosom.