94 Books Like A Princess of Wind and Wave

The first thing that drew me in with this book was Juliette’s unique voice; there’s a poetic cadence to the writing style that I found so compelling, especially in audiobook format! I’m a fan of a good dystopian book–especially if it has a romantic subplot–and this series delivered with rebellion, people with abilities, complicated relationships, and things not being quite as they first seemed.

Juliette’s inability to touch people without it being lethal added a lot of tension from the start. And the way memories were woven into the greater story? This brings a fun spin on the memory loss trope that expanded more and more as I read on. It’s easily my favorite aspect of the books! 

This book is positively overflowing with witty banter. Hilarious witty banter between the love interests who won’t admit they’re madly in love and spectacular witty banter between the various sibling POVs we also get to read. My favorite character besides the FMC and MMC is Finn, a brother of one of the characters whose sense of humor is second to none. His undercover vigilante work, which his family misunderstood as laziness and lack of direction, made me respect and feel for him more, which balances out his apparent inability to take anything seriously well.

This book has the classic mutual pining I love so much and enjoy reading from both love interests’ perspectives, and the incredible sibling banter adds richness to the story I rarely find. This is my most recent read actually and I’m already running for the rest of the series right now!

This was the most beautiful kind of slow-burn read for me. The characters gently pulled me in as the story wove together, and before long, I couldn’t help being thoroughly invested in Gemma, Milo, and Ollie’s story. I don’t read contemporary fantasy as much, but a book like this–where themes of friendship, family, enduring love, and dealing with change and grief abound–is almost guaranteed to draw me in.

This book did just that and then some! The memory exploration aspect of the book is a unique take involving dreams and magic, and a large part of why this book hits so hard by the end! Did I cry reading it? Yes. Do I have regrets? Absolutely not!

I picked up this book from the library and instantly fell in love. It was such a good portal fantasy standalone that I read it in one day–almost in one sitting!

The main character, Tessa, stumbles into a dangerous, magical world full of twists and turns, inhuman characters, and a dark circus that kept me hooked. She suffered memory loss from time in a mental asylum before the start of the book, which just made everything that much more intriguing as I followed her journey with the immortal Nicolai in the Mirror Lands. 

This book was magical, adventurous, romantic, and all-around fun! Plus, the ending stuck with me long after I’d finished reading. I still remember going on a walk after and thinking, “I want to read that again!”

When Alice hits her head at the gym, she awakens, believing she’s a decade younger than she actually is. In the aftermath of her accident, Alice must try to figure out how she went from a happily married new mom to the brink of divorce. In other words, she’s lost a lot more than her memories.

This story makes you take a long, honest look at your life and consider all the people and things you’ve taken for granted. With a little mystery, a bit of romance, and a lot of humor, this novel tops my favorites list when it comes to Moriarty’s engrossing tales.

I planned a trip to Scotland and immersed myself in Peter May’s Scottish perspective. I try to do that with my books: share the back story, the elements that make Martha’s Vineyard so special to so many people. This is the niche I have carved for myself over the past 15 years.

Peter May is a BBC stalwart; Coffin Road offers a daunting tale with an emphasis on the rugged landscape. May traces his tale right down to the water’s edge.  

And while this is a work of fiction, it offers a vivid view of the reality of living on an island: the isolation, the limitations, the beauty, and the danger. That’s what I do with my Vineyard histories.

Moon Brow describes the social tensions between ideals of freedom, religion, and authoritarianism that provoked Iran’s 1978 revolution, but only increased under Islamic rule. Amir, a formerly rich, wild playboy, flogged by the morality police after a drunken orgy, joins the army to escape shame and find meaning for his life in the brutal and futile 10-year war against Iraq. Commanding artillery in the borderland, he encounters the mysterious, sprite-like woman he calls “Moon Brow,” who, after an Iraqi shell maims him, becomes a magical force in his PTSD hallucinations. Her true identity will come as a rebuke for his comparatively pointless existence, while his sister’s spurning of her rich, pretentious suitor will be another rebuke, of his machismo. A brilliant evocation of the illusions that sustain violence.

I love stories that force characters to grapple with big questions. In both Wayward Creatures and Restart, the main character has done something they realize is huge and has hurt a lot of people. Only in Restart, the narrator, Chase, has suffered a traumatic brain injury and doesn’t remember anything about who he was or what he did. The story asks readers to think about what justice and accountability require, both inside and outside the courtroom.

The future Dr. Lawrence sustains two traumatic brain injuries right before starting medical school. After inexplicably not taking any time off to recover, he trundles ahead despite short-term memory loss. What follows is an entertaining and chaotic four years of surmounting formidable obstacles while suffering an imposter syndrome that lingers throughout his training.

I think every medical student aside from the most incurable narcissist feels they are playing doctor much of the time. This memoir is highly relatable.

I love this book for its clever psychological games. I’ve always adored books that convincingly juggle good and evil, and this book achieves the perfect balance.

Amnesia has always fascinated me, and this story left me wondering how I would cope if the only thing I could remember were my own name. It struck a personal note because my much-loved grandmother lived with devastating Alzheimer’s for the last ten years of her life. But I’ve often wondered if amnesia carries a positive element, too. It may rob us of cherished parts of our history, but it also wipes away shame and regret.

The ethical questions raised in this book fascinated me.