Books like Beautiful Creatures — picked by fans

This is a wonderful blend of magic, history, and romance that completely swept me away. I loved how Harkness created a world where science and magic coexist, and the way she weaves historical references into a modern love story stole my heart.

The relationship between Diana and Matthew feels real, complicated, and deeply emotional, and I found myself fully invested in their journey. What really hooked me was the rich world-building, with its intricate details of witches, vampires, and daemons, making it feel like a universe I could dive into again and again. This is an annual reread for me. Book 1 in a wonderful series.

Seldom do battered women get true justice. In this book, justice is served on a very cold plate.

Two sisters, Sally and Gillian, are witches by heritage. After their parent’s deaths, they grew up with their two aunts, also witches.  

Sally was a happily married woman until her husband suddenly died. Gillian has lived a life of independence or what some might consider a wild life style. When Gillian’s boyfriend becomes a mortal threat, she gives him a potion, accidentally killing him. He comes back to haunt her from the grave. That’s when everyone in their family comes together to banish his evil spirit.

I only recently found this series and am so glad I did. In book one (of seven total) Krissa has suffered incredible losses and is grappling with potential magical powers while struggling to fit in at a new school in a new town. While many of the details are similar to other coming-of-age/accepting your power stories, the quality of the writing, realistic teenage reactions & dialogue, fast-paced plotting, and serious (didn’t-see-that-coming) twists make this an excellent and satisfying series. 

The Sweep series was one of the first witch series I ever read, and I promise you that it is still so, so good. Plus, there are 15 books to provide hours of entertainment. The story is very Wicca-based with well-described details of rituals and rites that will immerse you in each scene. I was immediately drawn to the main character, Morgan, and her struggles as she learns of her powers. The characters engage in familiar teenage drama, but everything is heightened by the magic they’re immersed in. Suspenseful, fast-paced, and just a little bit dangerous. 

Like Rachel Carson, Lanham is a scientist who avoids the stilted style of his profession. His book was also a finalist for the John Burroughs Medal, and like Janisse Ray, he published with Milkweed Editions, a powerhouse publisher in environmental literature. As a black man and lover of nature, Lanham describes himself as an “unusually colored fish out of water.” Growing up in rural South Carolina, he was surrounded by woods and wetlands that beckoned his curiosity on solitary wanderings. Everything captivated him: insects, reptiles, rocks, plants, and, especially, birds. When baptized in his grandmother’s authoritarian religious faith, he questioned the ritual but not the algae and “little black commas of tadpoles” in the devotional waters. Sometime after, he came to believe in Nature’s worthiness for worship, a faith that forms the heart of this elegant book. 

Portugal: The Impossible Revolution? a 1990s dissertation on rainfall patterns, and Richard Zimler's 1998 best-seller, The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon were the only books on Portugal I could find with useful content - more than enough to book a flight. Zimler´s second novel about the Zarco family connected with me because it connects Portugal with South Carolina, where I lived for decades. It was the first book to explain Portugal as weird—confusing, full of contradictions—because Portugal is not one country, but a mosaic of world cultures. For example, the main character´s father also went back and forth to Africa in the 18th century, which was mind-blowing to me. Zimler's depiction of the bond between former African slave Midnight, and John Zarco, each a survivor of state-sponsored violence was deeply moving. The book's period atmosphere, magical occurrences, and bird markets primed me to expect the same here. Which I have. 

While the minute details of the plot may have faded, I still recall the feelings Sisterhood left me with, its essence. As the middle of three daughters, sisterhood is highly important to me. Although the women in the book weren’t biologically connected, their bond and unification were definite. I consider our protagonist Bonnie Wilder (despite her own personal challenges), her best friend, Thora, and the women of Blackberry Corner heroic in their efforts to rescue abandoned children—thus, touching on another topic important to me: motherhood. If you like small-town stories with lively, colorful characters, historical references, and a touch of drama dive into The Sisterhood of Blackberry Corner. The sense of satisfaction I felt when reading it remains with me still. 

I am an absolute sucker for origin stories about American subjects, and especially origin stories that I should know and don’t. Plus, I love anything and everything that Floyd Cooper illustrated, so that book hits all the right notes for me.

I was taken right away by the young narrator, who participates in America’s first Memorial Day, and astonished to hear that like so many things that matter in America—including the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier—Memorial Day came about by popular acclaim.

That the first one was organized by former slaves in South Carolina not even a month after the Civil War ended, well, that really makes Memorial Day a day for rememberin’. I loved America more when I finished this book than I did before I opened its cover. 

What a delight to cozy up with the fictional island of this novel, an imagined liminal space on the border of Georgia and South Carolina, we are told “got spit out from the mouth of God, and when it fell to the earth it brought along an army of stars.” Even more delightful, we are told that when He tried to reach down and scoop them back up, He found Himself shaking hands with “the greatest conjure woman on earth.”

Thus we meet the “great, great, grand Mother” of Willow Springs, the archetypal first mother who could “grab a bolt of lightning in the palm of her hand; use the heat of the lightning to start the kindling going under her medicine pot,” and heal “the wounds of every creature.” I love how deeply feminist, mystical, and immersive this novel is: a page-turner I return to whenever I want to… show more.

Edisto was the first coming-of-age novel I fell in love with as an adult reader and the book that showed me the tremendous literary potential of the genre. Padgett Powell endows his protagonist, twelve-year-old Simons, with what comes across as precociousness, but in fact reflects the depth of thinking that many young tweens and teens have. Simons wrestles with his narcissistic parents’ competing visions of his future—although neither bothers to ask him what he wants—while hanging out on the sultry island of Edisto off the coast of South Carolina with an enigmatic older acquaintance, Taurus, who offers him tastes of adult life and the kind of attention his parents are incapable of providing. Powell’s deft prose and realistic dialogue make it all fully believable, and at times riotously funny. Edisto is nothing short of brilliant.