94 Books Like Faceless Killers

I tell everyone I know that if they want a book with incredible character development, read The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo.

This book is highly atmospheric. You can feel the biting cold, the fear, the pain. It also has characters with questionable ethics. It made me question how I feel about vengeance and retribution. Some of the content is very dark, yet it doesn’t feel sensationalized.

This is also a thriller with hints of a happy ending—at least, for some people—while also leaving some things uncertain or unresolved. I prefer a thriller to leave me hanging a little . . . 

Lehane, one of my favourite authors, introduces the crime writer’s device of the duo, in his first Kenzie and Gennaro novel. For me, as in my own DCI Steel novels, the duo in writing can work to inform, or mislead, the reader and, if handled well, the reader doesn’t notice, seeing the interaction between characters as normal. Clichés abound in crime fiction, especially in lead characters, but Lehane avoids this with P.I. Patrick Kenzie, and his lifelong friend, Angie Gennaro. Given the area they inhabit, with its racial and gang tensions, added to the clients they have, clichés would seem unavoidable, but—once again—the lesson here is to write multi-faceted characters, which Kenzie and Gennaro emphatically are. They are flawed, but in Lehane’s hands, triumphantly human, and very believable.

I have to confess that I discovered these books after watching the TV series Department Q. As soon as I saw "Based on the books by Jussi Adler-Olsen," I knew I had to read them.

The books differ significantly from the TV show. For one thing, they are set in Copenhagen, not Scotland. But the dark humour and clever plots are still the same. In this, the first of the series, Carl Morck—who is recovering from an incident where two of his colleagues were shot—is made the head of Department Q, looking into cold cases.

His first case is the disappearance of a politician who we know is still alive, but no one—apart from Morck—is looking for him anymore, assuming he fell off a ferry.

The seventies. The tough town. Laidlaw, Glasgow’s philosopher detective, is trying to find out who killed the lassie in the park. Arguably the template for Taggart, arguably the starting point for Tartan Noir.

I liked the way its bark was just as bad as its bite. It threatens to explode into violence all the way through, between most of its characters–then it does. Hard cases. And yet, at the very end, incredibly, compassion and sympathy.

I set out very determined to despise this first book of Knausgard’s series. Knausgard’s life is no more fascinating than anyone’s. This is not necessarily his life but some reasonable facsimile that dips in and out of reverie, philosophy, and the hardcore reality of cleaning up after an alcoholic parent dies. Hoarding, self-loathing, and Nordic landscape are all features. I mean, what is NOT to love about that?

My lust for this book is not so much what it is about, though,  as how it does this thing of drawing me along in its unadorned vocabulary to wholesale belief in everything that is put down. It is a supreme hoax that I am grateful to have encountered. 

Truth doesn’t have to be flashy to captivate. I was instantly drawn to the mystique of this book’s manuscript and the secretive author who sent it to me. In it, I discovered that beauty is a feeling, and anxiety is a prelude to exhilaration.

Normally, I'm not one for self-help, but the poetic wisdom in this book resonated on a personal level, a comforting reminder that healing isn’t a one-size-fits-all journey.

I was enthralled by this dark, terrifying historical thriller, and its being based on a true story made it more unsettling. The gothic horror vibe of Scandinavian dark winters and the island setting heightened my dread as I read. The rising tension had me on the edge of my seat.

Gustawsson has created an atmospheric mystery story that connects past and present murders—9 years apart. I didn’t know who to believe or trust, and I didn’t figure out the motive until the end. Multiple viewpoints and numerous twists and turns kept me guessing. Just when I thought I knew what was happening, another piece of information took me in a different direction, only to be thwarted yet again. I couldn’t have predicted the ending. It’s masterful storytelling.

There are great, believable, but also sinister characters, making it a complex read. The plot is rooted in Viking rites and sinister secrets… show more.

This is just one of several books by these brilliant academics who have done so much to make people aware of the huge Scottish presence in Europe and the incredible influence they had on their host nations. I use many stories gleaned from Steve in my own book. 

Steve points out that while many Scots served in the Swedish army in the 17th century as professional soldiers, they were not merely content to be part of the military élite. Their penetration into the exclusive field of diplomacy is revealed by the negotiations between Sweden and Denmark-Norway to end the Kalmar War in 1613. Representing the Danish side was Robert Anstruther, on the Swedish side was James Spens. No only were they both Scots, they were half-brithers from the East Neuk of Fife! They did quite literally ken each ither’s faither!

Zlatan Ibrahimovic has been one of the most successful football players in Sweden.

His biography is one of the most read books in the country, and not just because Zlatan is a national hero, but also because the writer who penned that book is a brilliant one: David Lagercrantz, the former journalist, became a few years back the voice of Stieg Larsson, continuing his brilliant Millennium trilogy.

This book is a tale of an exceptional destiny told by one of the most talented voices in the Swedish literary scene.

If you’re curious about the woman who collected the Sami folktales, you’ll want to read Emilie Demant Hatt’s story of living in a tent with a Sami family in a community in Northern Sweden. You’ll be fascinated by her grueling journey with a group of Sami herders and their hundreds of reindeer over the icy mountains in the spring of 1908 to find summer pastures on the Norwegian coast. I’ve long loved the adventure, humor, and visual feast in this book, first published in 1913, and was eager to translate it and share it with readers curious about the high north of Scandinavia. Demant Hatt was a brilliant observer and an early immersive journalist who didn’t shy away from hard work, rough conditions, and learning the Sami language.