66 Books Like Black Hearts in Battersea

This is probably the strangest retelling on this list (rivaling Alexis Hall’s wonderful The Affair of the Mysterious Letter) and—perhaps because of that?—the one that follows the original stories most closely.

Indeed, the mysteries explored by Crow are beat-by-beat versions of Holmes’s, except where they deviate to puncture racism, xenophobia, and sexism or to reflect the dictates of the fascinating paranormal world Addison created.

The wary developing friendship between Watson and Crow, the bizarre half-glimpsed world they live in, and the urgency of the prose make it hugely readable.

Agent of the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments, and Supernatural Entities, Fatma el-Sha'arawi is the spectacularly well-dressed protagonist tasked with saving the world (again) in an alternate 1912 Cairo. This award-winning novel awed me with its detail and invention. What I loved most was the way the world building relegated the British Empire to relative unimportance. Come to think of it, I loved the Ministry library almost as much.

As brilliantly written as it is sometimes difficult to read, this fantasy novel set in the early 20th century travels from rural Georgia to Chicago, part of the Great Migration. Hairston says "I wrote Redwood and Wildfire to celebrate folks like my great-aunt and grandfather who faced impossible choices." In so doing, she has told stories history has all but forgotten. I began to read this book because I knew it contained a passage involving a visit to the 1893 Columbian Exposition—The White City—but my favorite parts of this novel involve the show folk and the Black film industry in Chicago. Hairston's characters don't just do magic. They are magic.

A dragon, a great detective, many fae, and more than one resourceful librarian clash in a Venice so alternate I can't quite pin down the year—during Carnival, of course. This novel is part of the Invisible Library series, which I've loved from the very first book, The Invisible Library. I love Cogman's use of magic—and airships—as she builds whole worlds and as her librarians travel among them. Her plots are ingenious, but it is her marvelously twisty characters that impress me the most. 

Another overlooked book because it is targeted for children. It’s the first in a series and is darker in tone than others. The imagination of the underground world here is neat and built in such a way that lets you envision it. The plot can be a bit disjointed for younger readers, and there are some twists to keep it interesting, but overall, is a fast read.

Kiki manages her anxiety by drawing stories featuring her family ancestors, but when her sketchbook becomes a doorway into the world of Indian mythology, she’s dropped into a fight between a Hindu Goddess and a Demon King trying to escape into the real world. 

I love stories featuring kids who doubt themselves, but who learn they are strong and capable. Any kid struggling with anxiety will surely see themselves in Kiki. The adventure is fantastic, Mandanna’s writing is lovely, and Kiki and her friends are all easy to care about. Whether readers are new to Indian mythology, or they’ve already burned through the Aru Shah and Kiranmala stories—this is an exciting and expansive tale promising much more to come.

I couldn’t resist adding a Tintin graphic novel to my list since Herge’s adventure series is widely beloved — and this one is a particular favorite. The story opens when the miserly millionaire, Laszlo Carreidas, "the millionaire who never laughs," invites Tintin, Captain Haddock, and Professor Calculus to accompany him on his private jet to Sydney instead of taking commercial Flight 714. It all seems rather jolly — until the millionaire’s jet is hijacked and diverted to a volcanic island in Java. As always, Herge nails the geographical details, plot twists, cheeky humor — and the idiosyncrasies of human nature, like grizzled Captain Haddock’s constant frustration with absentminded Professor Calculus. As a kid, these books opened entire worlds to me — I couldn’t wait to grow up and embark on my own adventures!

I read the entire series growing up, starting with this one, and to this day, I consider it the best book ever written. The story was so realistic yet exciting and had a wholesome family dynamic. It sparked an enthusiasm towards sailboats among me and my siblings.

The kids, leaving their parents behind to camp on an island, sailing across the lake, fighting mock wars—it was thrilling, and everything worked and made sense. The characters are distinctive and memorable, and all important to the story. Ransome is a genius, and every now and then, I return to this book and revel in my imagination once again.

This middle-grade novel introduces us to a real place—the Colored Orphan Asylum in New York City—and invites us to imagine the historical children who lived there as freedom fighters. Those fights for freedom, it turns out, take place on the back of dinosaurs! While the surprising addition of dinosaur battles might seem like a diversion from the hard work of learning about slavery’s painful history, in Older’s hands, the dinos offer young readers a way to meditate on power and its abuses. Viewed in the context of a Black radical tradition that insists on alternate timescapes, Freedom Fire’s dinosaurs do not function as a bit of whimsical unreality that overwrites difficult historical truths. Instead, their discordant presence actually offers a space for readers—children and educators both—to better inhabit the surreal, disorienting history of enslavement and freedom in the United States.

I followed Nick’s adventures from a young age, and he’s partially responsible for my wanderlust. I learned I didn’t have to conform to society’s expectations, that is was OK to follow my dreams, and to pursue what I wanted from life, not what others wanted for me. Nick’s book takes him on an epic hike across Europe, including walking through winter. He is a master storyteller.