Books like Gentlemen of Uncertain Fortune — picked by fans

How did governments spy on their own citizens in the age of quill pens and candlelight? Although Londoners lustily sang “Britons never, never, never shall be slaves,” the reality was that few men could vote, and some were in danger of being dragged off the street and impressed into the Navy. The struggle for democratic reform, however, was met with suspicion by government leaders who feared a revolution like the one in France that toppled the monarchy. Regency Spies uncovers the hidden world of espionage and agents provocateurs who kept an eye on populist reformers like Henry ‘Orator’ Hunt and deluded fanatics like Arthur Thistlewood. While learning about the Peterloo Massacre and the Cato Street Conspiracy, I was also intrigued by the parallels to our own times.

A book about a group of London intellectuals – sometimes friends, sometimes frenemies – who expressed their influential ideas with an elegant style that I find irresistible. (Dr. Johnson strongly influenced Jane Austen, so if you like Austen, you’ll like Johnson.) This book is filled with anecdotes of friendships, rivalries, partying, and bickering, with a fair amount of Georgian bawdy humor sprinkled throughout. You’ll meet writers, poets, playwrights, legislators, and bluestockings. The Club gives you multiple biographies plus a portrait of London in the late Georgian period. Spending time with this book is like spending a few hours with Dr. Johnson and his witty friends at a London coffeehouse.

While doing research on the British campaign to end the slave trade, I read many books, but no book transported me to the decks of the slave ships and to the rugged coast of Africa like Sweet Water and Bitter. The Trans-Atlantic slave trade is placed in its historical, military, and economic context, but Siân Rees also shows the human side of the story. On every page, there is another amazing/shocking/heartbreaking/inspiring vignette. You meet the sailors and missionaries who fought to smother the slave trade, often at the cost of their lives. The hopes and hardships of life in Africa are expressed by emancipated slaves, naval officers, and ordinary seamen. Rees' prose is clear and even-handed. My paperback copy is bristling with little post-it notes.

The story of how one unscrupulous person seized control of the evolving institutions of municipal government to line his own pockets might not strike everyone as seat-of-the-pants reading but Julian Woodford’s account of Joseph Merceron is vivid and still relevant today. The long career of this scoundrel is also woven into the larger picture of the times: the ebb and flow of political campaigns; the British reaction to the French Revolution, the effect of the long-running wars against Napoleon, the rapid growth of London, and the scourge of cholera. Stepping into this world is like stepping into a Hogarth print. This book taught me things about everyday life in London I wanted to know but didn’t know how to look for.

Don’t we all dream of being a queen? In this fun modern fairy tale, a forty-something single mom from Philadelphia suddenly discovers she is the heir to the throne of the Grand Duchy of Saint Gilbert. It would be a fish-out-of-water story, except that Annie takes on the job with a can-do attitude that I adored. Her whole family, including her kids, gets involved. She fends off antagonistic councilors—and a kidnapper—to drag Saint Gilbert into the modern era and prosperity. You gotta love that Philly attitude. 

This story skews more towards women’s fiction, but do not fear: there is a very handsome, suave captain of the guards, Max Belleme, who provides a delicious frisson of romance for the Grand Duchess. He can be my bodyguard anytime!  

The omniscient narrator in this classic novel speaks to the reader in a dispassionate present-tense voice that helps reinforce the satirical tone and immediacy of the novel. Dickens, who grew up in a debtor’s prison and included his bleak observations of life in a debtor’s prison in many of his great novels, used his fiction to shine a light on the social injustices of Victorian life. Bleak House shines much of that light on the punitive legal system (sound like today?), which Dickens exposed in some of his other novels as well. In thinking about the many theatrical and film adaptations made of this novel, we can see how much easier that work was due to the present tense writing, which creates the immediacy and suspense found in many great films.

I fell in love with the world-building in this series. Perhaps because the main setting itself is a character. Having an estate with a mind of its own (or at least a consciousness that doesn’t understand human propriety) makes for extra fun.

The slow-burn romance in the series kept me addicted because of how it highlighted the deliciousness of mixing magic and manners—in this case, the conflict between the fae making their presence known and human society trying to cope. Oh, and did I mention how many times I laughed while reading?

This is like a Dickens novel, but the characters are dragons rather than humans. All of the elements of a Victorian romance, such as obsession with manners and purity, are present, along with draconic elements like the heirs eating their dead father and parents killing off weak hatchlings. Social class and women’s rights are set in a culture of dragons!

So this is actually the sequel to another amazing book called The Hazel Wood, but we get to see more romance blossoming in this one. I adore this author. She has that rare ability to completely suck in a reader and paint the inside of their mind. There’s a delicious bleakness to the writing, the plot relentlessly dark and challenging. It covers so many enduring themes such as sacrifice and normalcy versus the extraordinary. And the romance is so atypical as well. There’s no true linear journey, and their feelings are compromised by these big divisive issues. Such as ending certain worlds to save other worlds.

When I first sat down to write a novel about three sisters, step one was to reread King Lear which is about exactly that. The three sisters in Lear are quite different from mine. Among other things, they like each other much less. But for that delicate sisterly balance between so-glad-I-have-you-to-share-the-burdens-of-an-aging-parent and I-might-actually-have-to-kill-you, nothing beats King Lear.