Here are 21 books that Coldfire fans have personally recommended once you finish the Coldfire series.
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Children have vivid imaginations, and while mine was initially drawn to science fiction, I discovered my true passion for fantasy upon reading The Hobbit as a teenager. Since that day, escaping into fantasy worlds—whether it be through books, movies, TV, roleplaying, and video games—became my passion and hobby, leading me down many roads, including writing game reviews, a short story, a novel, and an extensive collection of fantasy-related replicas and statues. Ultimately, that endless feeling of wonder and exploration, adventure and danger is what convinced me to become an author; these five books sitting at the top of a long list that inspired me to reach that goal.
I’ve always had a fascination with prophecies and the ubiquitous role they play in works of fantasy—it’s a tried-and-true literary device, and I don’t think there is another series that embodies the principle of fate better than Eddings’ Belgariad series.
The title of this first book sets that up most perfectly. From the first few pages, I was instantly drawn into this world, which takes the concept of uniquely varied traveling companions to a whole other level.
Not only are the characters all well fleshed out with personalities and motivations that kept me invested the whole way, but the book (and series) was also replete with another thing I love so much about fantasy novels—going on a grand, action-filled journey through numerous, fascinating locations.
The first part of a saga set against a history of 7000 years of struggles of gods and kings and men. Long ago, the evil god Torak sought dominion and drove men and gods to war. Belgarath the Sorcerer led a quest to reclaim the Orb of Aldur - but so long as it lay at Riva, men would be safe.
I’ve always loved dark, thought-provoking tear-jerkers, the way they challenge my mind and elicit powerful emotions. Maybe it’s because I grew up in an age when men couldn’t cry or show emotions. Maybe it’s because I lived such a happy-go-lucky childhood, hiking through woods and catching lizards and turtles, that I grew curious about the darker aspects of life. It could be how I cope with having fought for two years on the front lines of combat and why I found myself in a philosopher’s classroom, studying ethics. All I know is that my heart craves powerful, dark stories that make my eyes leak.
When I was twelve years old, I never understood why people cried over the death of a fantasy character. After all, the characters weren’t believable like in fiction.
Then I read the Dragonlance Legends Trilogy, and the ending devastated me for days. I cried, and I understood, and that moment has never left my heart.
The first installment in the New York Times–bestselling epic fantasy trilogy about twin rivals Raistlin and Caramon, set in the magical Dragonlance universe.
The War of the Lance has ended, and the darkness has passed. Or has it?
Sequestered in the blackness of the dreaded Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas, and surrounded by nameless creatures of evil, archmage Raistlin Majere weaves a plan to conquer the darkness—to bring it under his control.
Two people alone can stop him. One is Crysania, a beautiful and devoted cleric of Paladine, who tries to use her faith to lead Raistlin from the…
While Dune, Star Wars, Battlestar Galactica (1980s), and other SF staples laid the foundation for my love of SFF, I was also reading about the universe from a young age. Along came Star Trek: The Next Generation in the ‘90s and the stage was set. Completing Bachelor’s Degrees in Ancient History & Archaeology; Religions & Theology; and a PhD in Near and Middle Eastern Studies copper-fastened my passion for the ancient world and the history of religion, and along with reading historical fiction and fantasy, everything merged into the almost allegorical universe you’ll find in Kiranis. Lovers of all the above will find something here.
This was the first Feist book I read, back then having no knowledge of the enormity of the Midkemia universe and yet to read Magician (oh, to be young again!). Shadow is the first book of the Serpentwar Saga, starting decades after the events of the preceding Riftwar Saga. Aside from the building scope of this book and its introduction to the breathtaking scale of events to come, I can still recall the tone and clarity of the scenes in which young Erik, initially an apprentice blacksmith, is facing the noose. For me, Feist captured the dread and hopelessness of impending nothingness, and…well, I won’t spoil it.
There’s a massive plot developing, as you’d expect from Feist, but I think this was probably the first time I’d appreciated the political and military machinations of large-scale campaigns, and it wasn’t just one day there’s peace, the next there’s war. That sense…
The astonishing first volume in Raymond E. Feist's bestselling Serpentwar Saga...
A nest of vipers is stirring. . .
Ancient powers are readying themselves for a devastating confrontation. A dark queen has raised her standard and is gathering armies of unmatched might.
Into this battleground of good and evil a band of desperate men are forced, whose only hope for survival is to face this ancient power and discover its true nature.
Among them are some unlikely heroes - Erik, a bastard heir denied his birth right, and his friend Roo, an irrepressible scoundrel with a penchant for thievery. They…
I’ve always loved the darker side of fantasy. While heroes, knights, and handsome kings can occasionally be enjoyable, I want to know the other characters who have suffered, hurt, lost, grieved, and been hardened by grim circumstances and cruel fate. Those characters demonstrate the resilience of human nature and how goodness truly can exist even in the harshest environment. I love using this darkness in my own novels to show that even the tiniest spark can shine immensely bright—a true testament to the indefatigability of our spirits.
Royce Melborn is exactly the assassin I’d expect: scowling, suspicious, irritable, prone to violence, and scarred by hard life. So, of course, he ends up forming a team with Hadrian Blackwater, the most cheerful, upbeat swordsman in the world.
The “mismatched friends” and “grumpy/sunshine” flavor of the story was immensely fun—reminiscent of all my favorite buddy cop TV shows and movies—and did a wonderful job of anchoring me to these two characters as they fought their way through a world determined to harm them.
The dynamic between the characters is mirrored by a twisty-turny plot, a fascinatingly detailed world, and an epic storyline that kept me turning the pages to find out what came next.
Royce Melborn, a skilled thief, and his mercenary partner, Hadrian Blackwater, make a profitable living carrying out dangerous assignments for conspiring nobles-until they are hired to pilfer a famed sword. What appears to be just a simple job finds them framed for the murder of the king and trapped in a conspiracy that uncovers a plot far greater than the mere overthrow of a tiny kingdom.
Can a self-serving thief and an idealistic swordsman survive long enough to unravel the first part of an ancient mystery that has toppled kings and destroyed empires?
I’ve been a lover of fantasy stories, mythology, and folklore for a long time, mostly because fully realized fictional settings beyond our world enthralled me. My first forays into writing dwelt on fantasy with a strong historical slant, even when I dabbled in romance. It was also then that I realized my male characters had more chemistry with each other than with the females I’d paired them with. This is how I wound up in fan fiction, where virtually anything goes. During those years, I honed my writing, deepened my fascination with world-building, and crafted stories that would feed the wellspring of my first historical fantasy novel.
It was this book that disabused me of the notion that fantasy had to be written in a specific way, often in highfalutin or profound language. It encouraged me to put my own stories into writing.
Though very much a historical fantasy novel, this book was easy to understand despite the unfamiliar terms and background details of a fantastical universe. I think it’s due to Katheryn Kurtz’s initial use of simple, down-to-earth language and a fairly straightforward story, which, looking back now, was probably aimed at teenagers or young adults. I was sometimes reminded of the first volume of JRR Tolkien’s epic novel, especially because the succeeding books got progressively darker and more complex.
In this introductory book, the world of the Deryni, a race of mortals with magical powers, is fleshed out so well that the kingdom of Gwynedd, its people, and its neighboring realms feel so real that…
In the kingdom of Gwynedd, the mysterious forces of magic and the superior power of the Church combine to challenge the rule of young Kelson. Now the fate of the Deryni -- a quasi-mortal race of sorcerers -- and, indeed, the fate of all the Eleven Kingdoms, rests on Kelson's ability to quash the rebellion by any means necessary . . . including the proscribed use of magic!
I’ve always loved dark, thought-provoking tear-jerkers, the way they challenge my mind and elicit powerful emotions. Maybe it’s because I grew up in an age when men couldn’t cry or show emotions. Maybe it’s because I lived such a happy-go-lucky childhood, hiking through woods and catching lizards and turtles, that I grew curious about the darker aspects of life. It could be how I cope with having fought for two years on the front lines of combat and why I found myself in a philosopher’s classroom, studying ethics. All I know is that my heart craves powerful, dark stories that make my eyes leak.
I read it in the 5th grade, and it set the bar for the type of story I yearn to read. It’s such a heartwarming story up until it rips open the heart. It helped me through a difficult loss in my youth.
I found myself walking beside the main character and his two dogs, enduring their cold hunts and sobbing over his loss.
Read the beloved classic that captures the powerful bond between man and man’s best friend. This edition also includes a special note to readers from Newbery Medal winner and Printz Honor winner Clare Vanderpool.
Billy has long dreamt of owning not one, but two, dogs. So when he’s finally able to save up enough money for two pups to call his own—Old Dan and Little Ann—he’s ecstatic. It doesn’t matter that times are tough; together they’ll roam the hills of the Ozarks.
Soon Billy and his hounds become the finest hunting team in the valley. Stories of their great achievements…
As a fantasy writer, I love to play with possibilities and invent new words for our experiences. I find that humorous fantasy is especially powerful in this regard because it pairs possibilities with absurdity, coming at reality sideways or backwards, putting everyday life into a new and more interesting light. Humor has the unique ability to transcend genres, from thrillers to cozy mysteries. It helps you process difficult emotions, or lift your spirits when the world feels a little too dark. These are some of my favorites within this category, and they all happen to be the first books in a series (you’re welcome). I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!
This is possibly the best known book on my list, yet it took me a long time to discover it.
This is a thriller-style adventure that follows Nathaniel, a young magician’s apprentice on a quest for revenge, who summons Bartimaeus, an all-powerful djinni. Nathaniel (unwittingly) and Bartimaeus (unwillingly) get caught up in a tangled plot of magic-fueled mayhem in which they have to work together to survive.
Bartimaeus’ sarcastic observations and side tangents add an element of humor that keep it from staying dark and somber, while also highlighting the underlying threads of slavery and social injustice in this fantasy world.
The first volume in the brilliant, bestselling Bartimaeus sequence.
When the 5,000-year-old djinni Bartimaeus is summoned by Nathaniel, a young magician's apprentice, he expects to have to do nothing more taxing than a little levitation or a few simple illusions. But Nathaniel is a precocious talent and has something rather more dangerous in mind: revenge. Against his will, Bartimaeus is packed off to steal the powerful Amulet of Samarkand from Simon Lovelace, a master magician of unrivalled ruthlessness and ambition. Before long, both djinni and apprentice are caught up in a terrifying flood of magical intrigue, murder and rebellion.
Anyone who’s attended high school knows it’s often survival of the fittest outside class and a sort of shadow-boxing inside of it. At my late-1970s prep school in the suburbs of Los Angeles, some days unfolded like a “Mad Max” meets “Dead Society” cage match. While everything changed when the school went coed in 1980, the scars would last into the next millennia for many. Mine did, and it’d thrust me on a journey not only into classic literature of the young-male archetype, but also historical figures who dared to challenge the Establishment for something bigger than themselves. I couldn’t have written my second novel, Later Days, without living what I wrote or eagerly reading the books below.
This book, a classic of the atomic age, knocked my socks off rereading it.
While outwardly about a group of marooned boys scrapping for dominance on a remote island, it also resembled my late-seventies, Southern California prep school.
Some kids survived there by physically menacing playground “Piggy’s.” Others, like decent-hearted Jack, appealed for unity, demanding they keep a fire stoked for potential rescue before the savages within all of them aren’t worth saving anymore.
With that conch and bloody glasses, we appreciate mankind’s warring dualities.
A plane crashes on a desert island and the only survivors, a group of schoolboys, assemble on the beach and wait to be rescued. By day they inhabit a land of bright fantastic birds and dark blue seas, but at night their dreams are haunted by the image of a terrifying beast. As the boys' delicate sense of order fades, so their childish dreams are transformed into something more primitive, and their behaviour starts to take on a murderous, savage significance.
First published in 1954, Lord of the Flies is one of the most celebrated and widely read of modern…
While Dune, Star Wars, Battlestar Galactica (1980s), and other SF staples laid the foundation for my love of SFF, I was also reading about the universe from a young age. Along came Star Trek: The Next Generation in the ‘90s and the stage was set. Completing Bachelor’s Degrees in Ancient History & Archaeology; Religions & Theology; and a PhD in Near and Middle Eastern Studies copper-fastened my passion for the ancient world and the history of religion, and along with reading historical fiction and fantasy, everything merged into the almost allegorical universe you’ll find in Kiranis. Lovers of all the above will find something here.
I had been reading Heroic and Epic Fantasy for years, and I’d purposely avoided reading Sci-Fi, convinced that it would influence my burgeoning plot development. I wanted to maintain my plot integrity and not be subconsciously led by other authors in the genre (but of course I couldn’t avoid the influence of the SF I watched on TV). Of course, I was missing out on some great writing. I was enthralled by this story—it combined an undead trope with space opera, as the ‘risen empire’ maintains its territory while facing an external threat from the technologically hybrid Rix. There’s a fascination with the potential of biological augmentation and the place of AI in our distant future (consider ‘immortal’ humans against potentially ‘eternal’ hybrid humans), but this story is extremely character-driven and concerned with the place of the individual. The fictional science was breathtaking and not without research, but what stuck…
The undead Emperor has ruled his mighty interstellar empire of 80 human worlds for 1600 years. Because he can grant a form of eternal life-after-death, creating an elite known as the Risen, his power is absolute. He and his sister, the Child Empress, who is eternally a little girl, are worshipped as living gods. No one can touch them. No until the Rix, machine-augmented humans who worship planetary Al compound minds. The Rix are cool, relentless fanatics, and their only goal I to propagate such Als throughout the galaxy. They seek to end, by any means necessary, the Emperor's prolonged…
Children have vivid imaginations, and while mine was initially drawn to science fiction, I discovered my true passion for fantasy upon reading The Hobbit as a teenager. Since that day, escaping into fantasy worlds—whether it be through books, movies, TV, roleplaying, and video games—became my passion and hobby, leading me down many roads, including writing game reviews, a short story, a novel, and an extensive collection of fantasy-related replicas and statues. Ultimately, that endless feeling of wonder and exploration, adventure and danger is what convinced me to become an author; these five books sitting at the top of a long list that inspired me to reach that goal.
There is a "realness" and melancholic quality to this story that immediately drew me in because every element, even the more fantastical ones, felt immensely believable.
Set in the richly detailed and lived-in world of Osten Ard, this first volume in the Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series by Williams took its time to get the main plot moving, but I want to stress just how much I found that to be a good thing. It truly afforded me an opportunity to get to know the setting and characters intimately, so that by the time the plot kicked into high gear, I was well and truly committed to caring about what happens.
Despite its hefty length, this was one of the fastest page-turners I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
The first book of the trilogy "Memory, Sorrow and Thorn" tells the story of Simon, a kitchen boy and sorceror's apprentice, who must find the solution to the riddle of the long-lost swords of power, in order to combat the evil of the undead Sithi Ruler, the Storm King.