Books like Big Sky — picked by fans

I read this 1933 mystery novel as a teen, and it might have begun my love affair with the hero in disguise. In this book, we meet Death Bredon, a newly hired copywriter at Pym’s Publicity. We know, of course, that he is Lord Peter Wimsey in disguise, but we don’t know why the aristocratic amateur detective is pretending to be a working Joe.

The mystery is flawless; the ad agency setting is delightful; the banter is witty; and the climactic cricket match, in which our disguised hero lets his mask slip, is delicious.

One of the funniest books I’ve ever read. Set in Paris in the 1920s, this mystery has everything I want in an escapist read: a suave detective, his sharpshooting, bad-ass girlfriend, a twisty, unpredictable plot, and fabulous, quirky characters.

Many are based on icons of the era: Josephine Baker, Picasso, Gertrude Stein, Hemingway, and all the usual Midnight in Paris celebrities. I first read this in my teens, and I still reread it for the madcap humor and view of Paris in the 1920s written by someone who was there.

Tim Weaver has a way of getting under the skin of not just his characters but his readers, too. For me, it helped that his main character, like me, had lost his wife to cancer. I could instantly relate. But beyond that, the plot was gripping, drawing me in and holding my attention from start to finish.

While reading one of his books and for a long time afterward, your mind has only two ways to be—either reading his book or thinking about his book.

One of the best explanations I’ve read of the rise of Fascism in Hitler’s Germany. I agree that ignoring the lessons of history means we’ll be forced to endure repetition. And Kerr paints such a chilling scenario no one in their right mind would wish the maxim to come true. His prose applies color and form like an artist at the top of their game.

At times I found him reminiscent of Chandler in the way he portrays the Nazis as the worst gangsters in the game. This is the first book of the Bernard Gunther series, and I was so enthralled that I raced through the others in just a few days. His storyline is filled with horror, passion, fear, and pathos—a tour de force of emotions.

As a writer of crime thrillers, I also read a TON of crime thrillers. I also work in national security and law enforcement, and so finding a crime thriller that rings true is one of my great joys.

Don Winslow is an acknowledged master of crime fiction, one of the greatest of all time. But this book flies under the radar because it’s not a standalone novel or a chapter in one of his longer crime saga series. Rather, it’s a collection of six knock-down, drag-out crime novellas. Some of the stories follow familiar Winslow characters or take place in settings he’s already explored, but through a new lens. Every story is different, with characters and settings I loved, all imbued with Winslow’s gift for verisimilitude and wry turns of phrase. 

It’s a can’t-miss.

This is an absolutely brilliant pastiche of Victorian literature, starring the era’s two greatest fictional characters.

It weaves Holmes and Watson into the basic plot of Dracula, with Watson grumbling about setting the record straight because that ‘spurious monograph’ by some fella called Stoker missed out on Holmes’s involvement in the case!

A light, quite short, hugely entertaining read.

The intricacies of the investigation multiply, but all of the clues are laid before the reader, though often veiled. The suspects are intriguing characters. Poirot, the little Belgian, is arrogant, but his arrogance seems justified by his brilliant investigative insights.

I love this complex character immersed in a complex mystery. This is classic Christie.

If I’m being honest—and I’m guessing Ben Shepherd would like me to be honest—I’d be content to list five Burke books here.

Burke is a national treasure. I don’t aggravate easily, but it aggravates me that he doesn’t have a Pulitzer Prize for fiction. He is one of the best combination writers and storytellers on the planet.

In this book, Burke’s protagonist, Dave Robicheaux, investigates a series of murders of prostitutes. There’s a connection to the murders and New Orleans gangster Julie “Baby Feet” Balboni.

In the book, Robicheaux also has conversations with Confederate General John Bell Hood, which has nothing to do with organized crime, but is a great example of Burke’s prowess as a writer. It was made into a 2009 movie starring Tommy Lee Jones as Robicheaux and John Goodman as Balboni. Robicheaux’s sidekick, Clete Purcell, is one of the best characters in crime fiction.

Like other private detectives, LA-based Lew Archer sees too much—too much bad or at least questionable behavior. Here, it seems to take the form of a runaway—a rich kid who has “escaped” confinement from his exclusive 60’s reform school. Despite his lack of style and color, Archer acts confident he’ll find him. The only problem: The parents—his client—aren’t helping him very much.  

His disappearance case threatens to disappear, providing an especially clever irony and supporting what I believe is author Macdonald’s favorite insight: The problem begins and ends in the family. The only question is, with all the darkness the parents create and Archer encounters, will he see enough to solve the case? I love this story, in part, becomes it’s more noir than any other Lew Archer story. 

It would be obscene to read this on a Kindle. This early Dashiell Hammett novel has to be read in paperback, the older a copy you can find, the better.

It has everything a great pulp novel should have; murder, crooked cops, gangs, and a rumpled too-honest-for-his-own-good hero. What I love about this book is how Hammett uses his own experience working for the Pinkerton Detective Agency (who were basically hired thugs) and a real historical event (a labor dispute in Montana that resulted in several deaths) to weave a solid crime novel.