99 Books Like Between You and Me

This book (and its two sequels) presents a place where all sorts of monsters and unwanted creepy-crawlies can find shelter and a home—Julia’s house.

It’s a book about inclusion and acceptance and maybe even some bad manners. All of Ben Hatke’s books are smartly told and beautifully drawn (Zita te Space Girl, Mighty Jack, Nobody Likes a Goblin)—but even with a simple story, the magic on every page is evident, and one can linger on the pictures well past the time it takes to read the words. 

Okay, this book has a plot that you may find a bit difficult to believe, but that’s what I love about it. Daphne moved to her fiancé’s small hometown, where she knew no one to start a new life with him. Except, he dumps her for his childhood friend, Petra, who dumped her fiancé, Miles. And Daphne and Miles become roommates.

Emily Henry makes it work. I love how she defined the characters, especially Miles, who’s brooding and listens to sad music. But there’s another side of the man; he’s outgoing and knows everyone in town.

I do like a good forced proximity trope, and Henry has written a fine one. But this works for me because, like all of her work, the story is expansive. She tugged me into this universe, and I couldn’t let go. I was totally invested in Daphne and Miles’ relationship. 

Why do I love Braden Carmichael? His determination. There is nothing so romantic as unrelenting dedication. And he needs it when dealing with his heroine. Jocelyn Butler is one stubborn woman, and seeing her succumb to Branden’s charms makes for a very satisfying read.

This was a book that I didn’t want to end.  

Skippy Dies is nearly 700 pages long, but I wished it had been longer, it was that fun to read. It’s both tragically sad and laugh-out-loud funny—a difficult feat for any writer to pull off, and Irish novelist Paul Murray does so brilliantly. I’m not giving away anything by saying that the protagonist dies—after all, he dies in the book’s title—but I won’t reveal how or the circumstances. Let’s just say that if you are a diminutive, shy, buck-toothed 14-year-old at an all-boys boarding school in Dublin and somehow manage to develop a crush on the girlfriend of an older, drug-dealing, violent bully…well, things can’t turn out good. The cast of characters—the teenagers, the teachers, the school principal—are wonderfully drawn. Murray’s dialogue captures the boasting machismo as well as the angsty insecurities of teenage boyhood. A real gem.

There is so much to love about this book. Not only will it heat you up hotter than the summer sun, but it will make you laugh-out-loud! What I liked about this book besides the humor, steam, and compelling story was the sex-positive writing, the intimacy, and the sex-worker storyline. I love the message of women seeking, finding, and expecting pleasure from their lovers. This needs to be in more books! It is one that is overlooked and detrimental to relationships. Last, I adored the characters, especially Josh. He was so damn sweet and sexy but flawed enough to feel real. Another aspect I enjoyed was the opposites attract theme (it's another one of my favorites), and it doesn't get more opposite than an adult entertainer and blue blood under her parent's thumb.

How are women supposed to behave, discreetly? Are their friendships always a saccharine Hallmark card? Not in this novel. Living loudly, louchely, in chaos, with hedonistic nights out and all-day hangovers, Laura and Tyler are a tight, whip-funny twosome… except one has a wedding on the horizon to a teetotal stable man, and she’s wrestling with whether marriage is a legitimate life milestone anymore. The friendship portrayal here is a messy, clever, and foul-mouthed foray into the moment when inseparable friends face the prospect of their familiar relationship disappearing through the unstoppable forces of adult life. And we’ve all had impossible choices when we haven’t known which loyalties to put first – one’s duty to oneself or to one’s best friend?

This book has one of the most unique premises I’ve ever come across in any book, much less a romance—Tiffy is just out of a toxic relationship and needs a cheap apartment fast. Leon is a palliative care nurse who is working graveyard shifts and needs extra money to help his brother. They come to an agreement—without ever actually meeting each other—to split the flat: Tiffy is there while Leon works and vice versa. 

They begin to communicate through Post-it notes, and it’s honestly the most beautiful development of a relationship I’ve ever read. I was tearing through the pages to eagerly find the moment when they finally—finally!—meet in real life. An exceptional book from start to finish! 

Wild Africa is romantic and daring and I loved the danger and inspiration of 1920s Africa, when British born real life woman Beryl Markham becomes one of the first female pilots. It’s a bit of Out of Africa and riveting.

Markham encounters many obstacles and has several disastrous relationships but eventually she overcomes and succeeds. She becomes the first person (not woman) to fly solo from Britain to North America. 

Although considered a classic, I only read this book while working on my novel, and it has haunted me ever since. The injustice of the girl’s treatment versus that of the father (who is never publicly identified in the story) left a serious impression and kept me at my writing desk.

Although English law has recognized the emotional changes a woman experiences during and after birth, the U.S. has never done so.

Another classic—this one, from 1955, which was twice made into a movie, in 1958 and in the superior 2002 remake, with Brendan Frazier and Michael Cain. The Quiet American is described as many things—as a Vietnam war book, as a critique of American imperialist impulses. But at heart, it’s the story of a love triangle.

And the woman at the center of the love triangle, Phuong, is an all-time favorite character of mine. With watchful attention and subtle silences, she dictates the fate of the two men. More important than anything we ever see her say are the things we see her do and not do. 

I love the novel’s spare prose and its observations and asides, which are astute and oftentimes quite funny. And in the book’s pages, Vietnam, in the years just before the disastrous French then American wars, comes vividly to life. But Phuong is the reason… show more.