Books like Best of the Wrong Reasons — picked by fans

Time moves differently when you can never grow up. We love to revisit S.A Chant’s brilliant exploration of Queer Time again and again.

Peter Darling has fast become one of our favorite books of all time–it’s a lush, transformative addition to the Peter Pan canon. The rivals-to-lovers element is rich and romantic, and the plot twist breaks boundaries, subverts expectations, and plays with gender in such a careful and nuanced way while also depicting a fresh and unique take on Neverland.

It’s a masterpiece of a book and one that continues to amaze us every time we reread it.

This book was a fascinating, humorous, and emotional look inside the reality TV industry while also being a wonderful queer romance and serious look at mental health and overworking.

I particularly liked that the main characters were flawed and fallible but also loveable, a hard mix to achieve. The story features a bisexual awakening, which is often tricky to pull off well in queer fiction but was handled in an excellent and believable way. While queerness does come up as an issue, since the Bachelor-like contestant is supposedly straight, the topic is handled with grace and rarely dominates the story.

We loved the steamy romance between clever, uptight Chloe and broody artist Red. 

To be perfectly honest, we don’t usually go for heterosexual romances, but Chloe and Red are wonderfully queer to us in their own special way. We really enjoyed the dual POV, getting to experience Chloe and Red falling head over heels for each other from both perspectives.

It had so many of the tropes we enjoy: the vivacious yet rigid (for good reason, she spends a lot of her time in pain) Chloe slowly learning to let go, and the kind yet gruff (for good reason, he’s had his heart smashed) Red coming into his own.

It’s Oscar Wilde and the cast of Monty Python having an orgy on the set of Bridgerton–what’s not to love? 

Alexis Hall is an auto-buy author for us, and Something Fabulous is one of our favorites. It’s a hysterical romp–sexy and romantic but also deeply irreverent and laugh-out-loud funny. Chock full of shenanigans, relatable and diverse characters, and a fresh reimagining of Regency romance.

We love a grumpy duke. We love a chaotic, wide-eyed ward. We LOVE Sir Horley Comewithers and his questionable cabin in the woods. There’s a scene with a bee that has caused irreparable damage to our lungs and ribs. 

My first sexual experience after I moved to London in 1957 was with a slightly older man I met at one of the parties I got invited to after my book was published. When we got to his flat I knew enough to take my clothes off and lie down on the bed, but what was I supposed to do then? Clueless, I lay there like a stick of celery. “You’re not gay,” he kept repeating. “Yes I am,” I kept repeating, but didn’t know how to prove it.

Too many years later, in 1966, The Song of the Loon filled in the blanks of how gay men actually had sex. It’s very well-written explicit erotica, a backwoods fantasy about impossibly handsome masculine men living far from those city gays corrupted by shame and disappointment. Song is no quick potboiler. It’s a gay author’s well-realized attempt to bring to life… show more.

I'm a political junkie. And if you want Veep in book form, this is for you. Are Thom and Clay likable? Eventually, yes! Is the premise completely nuts? Totally, and I love it.

I am a huge sucker for enemies-to-lovers. And pining. And the public lens being trained on our MCs. And this one has it all. The banter, the chemistry, everything you want in a romance, plus the absurd US political system is like a cherry on top. 

This was the first book by Alexis Hall I’ve read, and I fell in love with his writing. It’s witty and charming and perhaps a bit ridiculous at times. But that’s what makes it charming. Luc’s job is in danger unless he begins to get his life together. What job? He works for a nonprofit charity whose goal is to save the dung beetle—Coleoptera Research or Protection Project, or CRAPP. The solution? A fake boyfriend.

I love the large supporting cast this book has, each quirky enough to get their own story one day. Hall is a master of comedic writing, but more than that, I love that he can also write poignant moments. This book is one of my all-time favorites.

Fadeout is the first book in Hansen’s Dave Brandstetter mysteries. The protagonist, an openly gay insurance investigator in 1970s California, is convinced that a man who has been reported dead is actually still alive, and he must hurry to find him. Another classic in the gay mystery canon, Fadeout is vividly noir, grittily honest, and rejects cliches and stereotypes in a way that is still shocking over fifty years later.

I was captivated by the central relationship, a love affair between two grunt soldiers in World War I. That's quite unlikely, but it hints at a positive outcome or dangles a thread of something hopeful. And that kept me hooked through the decades-long saga of war, displacement, exile, and loss from Europe across the Middle East to China—in a refugee caravan, on foot!—ending in the present, in Israel.

Hemon, an immigrant to the U.S. from Sarajevo, writes in English, his second language, which, for me as a writer, makes this kaleidoscopic story an even more dazzling achievement. He's playful with language, too, not unlike Joyce. And playful with the possible; there's magic realism, but with a light touch. An all-time fave. I'm going to read it again.

Paul Monette's life could have been mine. (His death, too.) Fear kept us both closeted until full adulthood. All he ever wanted was a lover, one of "the smiling men" he could never seem to touch. (Me, too.) Then he got HIV. (By dumb luck, I didn't.)

Writing in 1991, years before new drugs could have saved his life, Monette was "dying by inches." By then he had found his man—twice, actually—but lost each one to AIDS. His searing anger brought that tragic, terrifying time back to me hard. But rage couldn't hide the innocent, pained boy he shows us he had been.

I was humbled by his self-forgiveness: "I can't judge the world of my first twenty years by the laws of freedom that followed Stonewall."