This month, Nosy Crow celebrates the centenary of voting rights for (some) women with an anthology of work by contemporary female authors, ideal for readers of eight plus. Crammed with assured writing from Katherine Woodfine, Catherine Johnson, Sally Nicholls and others, Make More Noise examines girls’ access to money, education, respect and power. It’s a thought-provoking collection of short stories.

Capable girls also battle patriarchal values in Robin Stevens’s A Spoonful of Murder (Puffin), the latest in the bestselling series starring 1930s schoolgirl detectives Hazel Wong and Daisy Wells. This instalment, set in Hong Kong, features ultra-English Daisy feeling “foreign” for the first time, an unexpected development in the Wong family – and a murder close to home for Hazel. Stevens’s combination of meticulous research, character development and a knotty plot is guaranteed to please.

MG Leonard’s entomological trilogy comes to a spectacular conclusion in Battle of the Beetles (Chicken House), featuring chitinous villain Lucretia Cutter on her most ambitious quest yet for world domination. As anti-beetle feeling surges, Darkus, Bertolt, Virginia and their six-legged pals must find Lucretia’s secret Amazon biome before she releases a wave of giant Frankenbeetles that will change the world for ever.

From Usborne, meanwhile, for readers of seven years and up, comes Politics for Beginners by Louie Stowell, Alex Frith and Rosie Hore, which clearly explains the basic principles of decision-making and political representation. As well as history, it explores differing ideologies and poses the big questions without ever patronising or overwhelming the reader. Kellan Stover’s infographic-style illustrations keep the packed pages vivid and accessible.

For five plus, Fantastically Great Women Who Made History (Bloomsbury) doesn’t disappoint as a follow-up to Fantastically Great Women Who Changed the World, one of the first and best titles in the current boom celebrating female achievement. Here Kate Pankhurst chronicles the careers of heroines both close to home (Ada Lovelace, Boudicca) and further afield (Qiu Jin, Pocahontas), conveying a strong sense of each woman’s journey. Speech bubbles featuring notable sayings – “Do NOT tell me women are not the stuff of heroes” – add to the excitement.

Horrible Science illustrator Tony De Saulles turns his hand to series fiction in the zingy yellow-jacketed Bee Boy: Clash of the Killer Queens (Oxford), an illustrated tale of lonely boy Melvin Meadly, his tower-block beehive and what happens when he enters the bees’ tiny world (and acclaimed as “Marrzzter”). Conservation, friendship and the joys of mastering unusual skills are interwoven with verbal and visual humour.

There’s another unlikely hero in Sam Wu Is NOT Afraid of Ghosts! (Egmont), a husband-and-wife collaboration by Katie and Kevin Tsang, with lively pictures from Nathan Reed. Sam Wu has yet to live down an embarrassing incident on a school trip to the space museum. Can he re-establish his cred with the acquisition of a terrifying new pet? Amusingly hyperbolic and likable, Sam is an engaging protagonist - though it’s his little sister, Lucy, who kicks serious butt.

Picture books this month are similarly rich in absurd humour. Best avoided by small readers upset by death (even the comic demise of cartoon bangers), Michelle Robinson and Tor Freeman’s Ten Fat Sausages (Andersen) gives an irresistible twist to the well-known counting rhyme. Its hapless chipolatas hope to escape the fatal “pop” – but, alas, meet other grisly fates in the attempt. Bright condiments, stricken-looking frankfurters and wicked comedy will appeal to the ruthless reader.

For the more tender hearted, Supertato creators Sue Hendra and Paul Linnet return with Simon Sock (Hodder), illustrated with energetic charm by Nick East. This entertaining tale of an odd sock’s search for a stripy mate to go on adventures with features a series of increasingly surreal pairings – and a fruity twist at the end. Meanwhile, Superbat author-illustrator Matt Carr turns his attention to arachnids in Spyder (Scholastic), an espionage caper in retro graphic style, all saturated blue and orangey-red. Follow the eight-legged agent on her mission: to save a birthday cake from Bluebottle’s unhygienic appetites. Spider facts, unusual perspectives and humour make for a diverting original story.

For young adult readers, Sara Barnard sifts the thorny issue of teacher-student relationships in Goodbye, Perfect (Macmillan), told from the perspective of Eden, the resolutely unacademic best friend of high achiever Bonnie. Eden knows Bonnie has a secret boyfriend – but not that he is her music teacher. When Bonnie and “Jack” run away together, Eden faces a painful choice: betray her friend’s confidence, or allow her to slip for ever beyond reach. This gripping novel examines anxiety, identity, pressure and power with Barnard’s characteristic lightness of touch.

Spare, laser-focused verse from award-winning US author Jason Reynolds is interspersed with Chris Priestley’s tenebrous illustrations in the intensely powerful Long Way Down (Faber). Will’s brother Shawn has been shot on the street: now Will must avenge him. But as the lift carrying Will – and his brother’s gun – moves down towards the lobby, the ghosts of his past join him at every floor, telling their own stories, and calling certainty into question. The harsh beauty of Reynolds’ writing (“Shawn was zipped into a bag/ and rolled away, his blood added/ to the pavement galaxy of/ bubblegum stars ...”) communicates both the inescapable, widening reach of a gang blood feud and the love and terror underlying it.

Finally, Landscape With Invisible Hand (Walker), a savage science-fiction satire from MT Anderson, posits an alien invasion that leaves the human underclass dependent on the ruling vuvv for access to food and jobs. Enamoured of 1950s movie values, the vuvv can be charmed by artificial displays of chaste, “gee whizz” romance – but can artist Adam earn enough from such displays to afford medical care, even as he and his girlfriend start to hate each other? Mordant and meditative, Anderson’s writing intertwines social satire with ideas of despair, hope and the nature of art.