Books like A Time to Kill — picked by fans

Connelly is the GOAT of the legal thriller genre. He is the creator of Mickey Haller and Hieronymus Bosch.

The Lincoln Lawyer introduces Mickey Haller, the LA lawyer whose office is his Lincoln Town Car. A criminal defense lawyer, Haller agrees to defend a prominent real estate agent who claims he is being framed for assault and attempted murder.

In Connelly’s novels, things are never what they seem. Connelly understands the challenges facing attorneys in investigating and trying difficult cases for difficult clients.

The heroine in this story struggles with cruel prejudices, rejection, heartbreak, and loneliness, leaving her unsure of who she can trust. 

But she perseveres and becomes resilient to adversity, growing stronger with each situation. The personal truths she realizes in the process through self-discovery have the potential to provide universal wisdom for many of us.

Many an idealistic young law student like me felt that jolt in our spine early on when we saw up in the balcony of that courthouse a sleepy Scout being told, “Stand up, Jean Louise. Your father’s passin’.”

The movie is as faithful to the novel as the medium would allow. The novel is told entirely from Scout’s POV and not only focuses upon the racism of the time and place, but also upon her coming of age as a tomboy and being told to act “As a little girl should.”

The book offers more to those of us for whom the rule of law and not of men is a passion, especially in Finch’s closing: “There is one human institution that makes a pauper the equal of Rockefeller, a stupid man the equal of Einstein… That institution, gentlemen, is a court.” 

For starters, I was sucked into the story by the name of the protagonist, Hieronymus Bosch. I had long been drawn to the dark paintings of the artist and expected a lot from his namesake.

In this first book in this series, the body of a man who fought side-by-side with Bosch in a hellish battle in Vietnam was found in a drainpipe. To solve the case, Harry has to relive the horror of Nam and make the choice between justice and vengeance.

I found the premise of this book intriguing. A detective with amnesia discovering his identity through his interactions with those who knew him before his accident? Yes, please! It's so unique!

This first book in the Inspector Monk series sets the stage for the many great books that follow with a brilliant murder mystery, interesting characters, and an immersive setting. I loved the intersection of Victorian London and the Crimean War and the many ways in which Perry brought the history to life with characters Dickens would be proud of, puzzles that would please Agatha Christie, and world-building that would satisfy Brandon Sanderson.

This was one of the hardest books to "get into," but a friend of mine told me to stick with it because the rewards of getting through the first quarter would be so great. I'm glad I did. It is an astounding piece of work, quite different from anything I've ever read before or since, and remains one of my top five books.

The tangents the book takes, and the blasé attributes of the leading character are superbly crafted. It was suggested it was "unfilmable," and there's one scene in particular I thought they'd never get away with, but if you look at the movie version carefully, it's in there. 

The novel’s evocative intensity hit me like a brick in the head. From page one, it never let up. I urge readers to set aside if they can, the literary/political ethnicity storm that the book engendered and simply accept and enjoy the quality of the storytelling by Ms. Cummins.

I initially listened to it as an audiobook. I wondered if my favorable view might be attributable to some degree to the extremely effective first-person female narration. When I then read the book in print, I was disabused of any such impression. The writing is terrific.

I was pulled in by the concept of the birth of a private eye.

Easy Rollins, a guy with no background in law enforcement, a day laborer, accepts money to find a missing woman, and a shamus is born. Did I mention that Easy is black, and has to deal with all the prejudices and difficulties that entails?

In addition to being a great whodunit of who and why, it’s a cool trip riding along with Easy on his maiden voyage into gumshoe land.

I grew up in rural Ireland, so not exactly the gritty urban Scotland of Welsh’s novel, but the first thing that struck me about the book was its savage, semi-feral, intensely real Scottish dialect. I’d never seen anything quite like it in print.

The prose feels almost illegal, a ne’er-do-well that has simply decided to break into the publishing house and force its way onto the page without anyone’s permission. I didn’t consciously plan to steal this technique for my own novel, but how could I not endorse it?

Welsh has written more explicitly psychedelic works, but this book remains for me his masterwork, underscoring how, in many ways, his protagonist Renton’s life is at its weirdest when he tries to get sober.  

I read it in high school, again in college, and still again (twice) as an adult, once aloud to my 3 young daughters over 3 weeks at bedtime. For me, it is the most powerful, frontier-themed American novel out there. 

 I love a novel that educates me and tells me things I am surprised I didn’t know because I should have, in beautifully constructed sentences.

The dialogue carries its characters so naturally that it is as if you are speaking with them yourself at your main room table in your 18th-century frontier home in Pennsylvania.