Dinah Hall's summer roundup appeared in Sunday's Telegraph, containing this persuasive endorsement of Julia Green's latest novel, Hunter's Heart:

Of all the books I’ve read this year Hunter’s Heart by Julia Green (Puffin, £4.99), with its undertow of menace and superb portrait of male adolescence, was the one that truly got under my skin... ... For mature twelve to sixteen year olds – and any mothers wanting insight in to the psyche of teenage boys.
Also, in yesterday's (Monday's) Evening Standard, Hall reviewed Malorie Blackman's Checkmate. In an excellent, broadly positive single-title review, she took Blackman's editor to task for allowing some flaccid figurative writing occasionally to stall the narrative flow:
Blackman is a terrific thriller writer, driving her plots forward with skill and tenacity. It’s only when she occasionally pauses to admire the view, and throws in a badly turned simile, that the prose skids to a halt. How did a sentence like “my lower jaw hanging like a limp piece of wet lettuce” ever get past the red pen? Would that be Little Gem or Cos? you find yourself wondering. And I fear Blackman’s description of Sephy’s first sexual experience – a “single dazzling rocket bursting into a shower of silvery lights… followed by a whole volley of rockets one after another after another” - will be setting up more than a few teenage girls for disappointment.
This is good, critical reviewing at its best.