100 Books Like Deryni Rising

I would have thought to list another book here, and for sure, there are truly many books to be read that could easily be listed here, and despite that, this is listing Tolkien’s works for a third time; the truth simply stands in my library that his works are simply that great. 

So far be it that the renowned book of The Lord of the Rings be not included. I had been introduced to Tolkien and fantasy’s more serious nature by my dad and grandfather with readings of The Hobbit, and by it, I was already enamored with the world of Middle-earth, as Bilbo was my hero.

I loved the classic animated cartoon adaptations back then by Rankin and Bass, and Bakshi, which at the time was my main exposure to The Lord of the Rings, along with commentaries from my dad, until I finally read it at the time… show more.

This book is prophecy, power, and paranoia wrapped in a sandstorm.

It was the first book that showed me how deeply philosophy and politics could be embedded in a fantastical world. It taught me that “epic” doesn’t mean loud—it means legacy. I still marvel at Herbert’s precision—his control of tone, symbolism, and tension.

It’s the rare kind of book that makes you feel like you’re trespassing into something sacred and dangerous. Every time I return to it, I leave with something new—and a little unsettled.

This science fiction novel, written by Daniel Abraham and Ty Franck under the pen name James S. A. Corey, was the beginning of the Expanse series (now totaling 9 novels and additional stories). It is one of the best space science fiction novels of the 21st century and became the basis for one of my favorite TV/streaming series, The Expanse.

The books dive deep into the political, social, and cultural complexities of sending humans to live on the Moon, Mars, and the asteroid belt, and it’s a nuanced reflection of our current ideas and ambitions when it comes to spaceflight. I am particularly drawn to the depiction of humans who, after multiple generations off Earth, consider their primary identity to be Martian.

This is possibly the best known book on my list, yet it took me a long time to discover it.

This is a thriller-style adventure that follows Nathaniel, a young magician’s apprentice on a quest for revenge, who summons Bartimaeus, an all-powerful djinni. Nathaniel (unwittingly) and Bartimaeus (unwillingly) get caught up in a tangled plot of magic-fueled mayhem in which they have to work together to survive.

Bartimaeus’ sarcastic observations and side tangents add an element of humor that keep it from staying dark and somber, while also highlighting the underlying threads of slavery and social injustice in this fantasy world.

It seems that there is no detail of life in the late 1700s and early 1800s that Winston Graham doesn’t know. From aspects of history, geography, social class culture, medicine, ship-building, mining… Graham is ‘The Man’. But he is also a composite storyteller, weaving a compelling, generations-spanning narrative that charts the turmoils and triumphs of Ross Poldark and his family. One detail that I love is the representation of genuine female experience in a mode that is not about feminist agendas; Graham writes his women with compassion and complexity, making them far more than the housewives and bodice-rippers characteristic of some historical fiction. Quintessentially English, but never rose-tinted, these novels are a treasure that deserve greater acknowledgment.

I’ve always had a fascination with prophecies and the ubiquitous role they play in works of fantasy—it’s a tried-and-true literary device, and I don’t think there is another series that embodies the principle of fate better than Eddings’ Belgariad series.

The title of this first book sets that up most perfectly. From the first few pages, I was instantly drawn into this world, which takes the concept of uniquely varied traveling companions to a whole other level.

Not only are the characters all well fleshed out with personalities and motivations that kept me invested the whole way, but the book (and series) was also replete with another thing I love so much about fantasy novels—going on a grand, action-filled journey through numerous, fascinating locations.

Royce Melborn is exactly the assassin I’d expect: scowling, suspicious, irritable, prone to violence, and scarred by hard life. So, of course, he ends up forming a team with Hadrian Blackwater, the most cheerful, upbeat swordsman in the world.

The “mismatched friends” and “grumpy/sunshine” flavor of the story was immensely fun—reminiscent of all my favorite buddy cop TV shows and movies—and did a wonderful job of anchoring me to these two characters as they fought their way through a world determined to harm them.

The dynamic between the characters is mirrored by a twisty-turny plot, a fascinatingly detailed world, and an epic storyline that kept me turning the pages to find out what came next. 

I’ve always enjoyed dark stories, and the first book of The Coldfire Trilogy did not disappoint. I also read this series in high school.

It was the first fantasy series I read that felt more rooted in the dark reality of life, which gave it a familiar grittiness that I hadn’t experienced in the books I’d read.

I love this book because Tolkien took the fantasy genre to a new, unprecedented level, resurrecting ancient legends of old, with countless mythical creatures.

His magnificent characters defined their races, occupations, and even their languages, later inspiring the game, Dungeons and Dragons, of which I was once a Dungeon Master. Many of The Fellowship serve messianic roles. Gandalf, for example, conquers death following his battle with a demon, and Stryder, an obscure ranger, turns out to be Aragorn, heir of the fallen kingdom.

Tolkien captures keen insight into the human condition regarding the struggle against sin. He also whispers a mystery; while an evil wizard created the One Ring to rule them all, a hidden, even more powerful force is clearly behind the ring’s eventual destruction.

I didn’t know Georgette Heyer wrote outside of Regency romances until I read The Conqueror. The period covering William the Conqueror’s life, from his accession as Duke of Normandy to his invasion and conquest of England, captivated me.

Heyer’s portrayal not only of the romances of William and Matilda of Flanders and a Norman vassal and English lady but also of the bond of friendship and loyalty between William and Raoul, the aforementioned vassal, were so plausibly written I almost believed both bond and fictional characters existed. Even better, she depicted 11th-century Normandy, England, and France in such riveting detail without sounding like an encyclopedia, often using her characters to help recreate that era. This book remains one of my favorites, and frequently re-read historical romances.