Books like Charade — picked by fans

This book is gritty, hard-hitting, and beautifully written–blood, sweat, and tears on a page.

I loved this book because the author did not pull any punches! The main male character was broken, his life had been tragic, and he didn’t just magically morph into some perfect model hero. While yes, I both see and imagine vampires as capable of incredible, deep love and loyalty, I also see them as a distinct species with an alternate nature, possessing the capacity for raw, animalistic pain, deep anger (even brutality), and the ability to act from all three places. This author nailed this, and she did it with intelligent, intricate plotting and bare, relatable emotion. She also wields some clever wit and biting snark. 

I was sucked in from the first chapter, and I never wanted to put it down. This story gave me so much to think about, and it stayed with… show more.

Is it cliche to recommend Harry Potter? Maybe, but I’m doing it anyway because no list specifically claiming to offer 5 of the BEST books for daydreaming about being a magical teenager would be complete without the boy who lived.

In the sixth of the Harry Potter books (which might be my favorite), Harry is so solidly in that hard space of life pre-adulthood but post-childhood. I love this particular story because I identified so much (minus the death wizards) with his struggle: navigating grief, friendship, love, loyalty, and doing the right thing even when the right thing is really hard and will probably cost you more than you’ll gain.

This story has always reminded me that there is always hope, no matter how dark things get. 

Lothaire features a Vampire on the brink of madness with revenge in mind. He is known as the Lothaire the Enemy of Old because he’s been around for hundreds of years. He was tortured and has done bad things to get what he wants and that is the throne. Who doesn’t love a revenge story? I love them but ones with a love interest he must kill to gain his goal when he is deeply attracted to her, is rough. I love a bad guy, especially one who really has little care for redemption, and that is Lothaire.

Laurie is your typical sixteen-year-old who is enjoying life until she is tempted by the fantastical experience she never imagined. A fun, otherworldly experience that she is inexplicably drawn into by someone she feels she can trust but this person isn’t as good and helpful as she seems and it is that person who wants to ruin Laurie. And I was there for it all with my shock and sympathy for that person…oh yeah, and Laurie.

For more than eighty years, the Cheyenne warrior Wooden Leg did a bit of just about everything. He joined a warrior society as a boy, fought against Custer and Crook in the Indian Wars, rode as an army scout, served as a tribal judge, converted to Christianity, and had to divorce one of his two wives (a heartrending scene!) before his new religion would accept him. His story is told by Thomas Marquis, a Cheyenne agency physician, who translated Wooden Leg’s story from sign language since they didn’t speak each other’s mother tongue. This is one of the best accounts of how Plains Indian men negotiated the challenge of transitioning from traditional ways to life on the reservation.

This is the story of Jack Crabbe. Jack was reared by both white and Cheyenne folks.

His story is a masterpiece and describes the destruction of Native Americans along with their way of life (including the bison they relied on). According to Jack, he even participated in the Battle of Little Big Horn and was the only white man who survived.

I recommend this book to anyone who is interested in American history and who wants to read about it in an entertaining way. There’s no way to disguise the hateful way European settlers wiped out native tribes and/or enslaved Natives and Blacks, but at least this is an engaging account thereof.

I’ve always been fascinated by American Indian culture. Girls wore intricately beaded dresses and headbands with feathers. Moms carried elaborately decorated baby backpacks. Also, I didn’t understand why the cowboys couldn’t get along with the Indians. In this novel, based on a historical event, the government strikes a deal with the Cheyenne, trading 1000 white women for 1000 horses. 

The women are culled from poorhouses, prisons, and asylums, like May whose father committed her for living in sin. May jumps at the opportunity to escape the asylum. Once on the reservation, the newcomers bond and slowly adapt to their new lives and families. Readers too get an intimate portrait of Indian life, and compared to actions of the US Army, it begs the question, who should be labeled savages?

Women and Warriors of the Plains is about the frontier adventures of a newly-married young woman and her camera in the early 20th Century. Settling on the Northern Cheyenne Indian reservation in Montana, Julia Tuell went on to capture portraits and photojournalistic depictions of Native Americans living off the land and going about their everyday lives, including the Northern Cheyenne and the Rosebud Sioux Tribe of the Lakota nation. Many of Tuell’s photos taught me to compose my paintings in a more natural way.

I was transfixed by Kelman’s story, masterfully, sympathetically narrated. It’s populated by few monuments, and the one squatting at the Sand Creek Massacre National Historic Site is modest and understated. Here even the place of those dark events was in dispute.

Blending history with a gripping account of the struggle over public memory, and centering Native people, Kelman chronicles the modern search for the site (and meaning) of one of the most gruesome acts of government violence in American history, at Sand Creek, where U.S. troops slaughtered more than 150 peaceful Southern Cheyenne and Arapaho campers (mostly women and children) in November 1864.

The Colorado Pioneer Association commemorated (and glorified) the sordid event in 1909 with a Denver monument cataloging Sand Creek as a Civil War battle. But a search for truth and reconciliation would challenge and remake this public memory, and Kelman is an unrivaled guide in that process.

From Sand Creek by Acoma Pueblo citizen Simon Oritz is one of my favorite books because in a little over 90 pages of poetry constructed in concise, elliptical form it captures the history of America that is largely erased from official narratives: the history of foundational American violence at home and abroad. Perhaps this narrative is becoming more visible now, particularly with the rise of films about this largely marginalized history. At its roots, this is the history of Native American genocide, epitomized by the massacre of peaceful Southern Cheyenne and Arapaho Natives by the Colorado Volunteers at Sand Creek in 1864.