Books like Harrow the Ninth — picked by fans

This is such a beautiful, gentle and cozy book that I couldn’t put it down. In this story, people were left with no choice but to completely rebuild their society, and they did something wonderful.

This book is like a breath of fresh air, like a quiet, healing journey that doesn’t rely on action—it’s an exploration, a celebration of nature, and society, and connection. It touched me in a profound way. It made me go outside to check if it was raining and stand with my bare feet in the grass, enjoying the coldness and softness of the sensation. 

Csorwe’s fate is to enter the Shrine of the Unspoken and die on her fourteenth birthday. In classic orc lesbian fashion, she decides not to do that, turning her back on destiny to become the sword hand of an outcast wizard (and the tall, buff orc lady of your dreams).

Csorwe’s journey of self-definition begins at fourteen; she knows who she doesn’t want to be. In her burgeoning adulthood, Csorwe is forced to confront who she was and decide who she wants to be; a parallel that will resonate with many queer readers as they cheer Csorwe through swordfights, betrayals, and becoming brave enough to stand up for herself, again.

This is a story that challenges our understanding of identity–Zhu is a girl, and she is a male novice in a monastery. Zhu wears her dead brother’s name like armor and schemes to make his fate hers as well. Zhu is as unapologetically callous as the world that discarded her. Zhu lives as a man and never wishes to live as a woman, but her pronouns never change.

Her story forces the reader to confront the heavy hand of circumstance in our lives and our definition of self. Zhu performs gender without regret or longing, it is a tool of her survival; instead, she defines herself in her ambition. And even though the person that Zhu ultimately chooses to become isn’t one we might admire, her relationship to gender speaks to those of us who sit between the boundaries of gender, who move between, or who fill more than one… show more.

Thirsty for more buff orc lesbians? Legends & Lattes serves up a mug of warm, cozy queer fulfillment. Viv was an adventurer, but she no longer wants to be. Despite her battle scars and intimidating looks, she longs to open her own quiet coffee shop.

The journey to small-business success has challenges, but her determination to live on her own terms brews up a staff of misfits that become a queer-found family. This quiet, low-stakes novel is as sweet as an almond croissant and will leave you hungry for more.

This book is unhinged in the best way. I love Gideon’s unique voice. Around her is a deadly-serious necromancer murder mystery with interplanetary stakes, and she cares more about cracking dirty jokes and finally eating some warm food. Her relationship with her arch-nemesis/only friend Harrow leaps off the page.

I love the scene where they get into a pool so Harrow can finally confess to Gideon her darkest secret—so hot and so disturbing all at the same time. While this book isn’t technically a romance and the genre feels more like a horror fantasy set in space, I couldn’t resist putting it on the list. As Gideon says to Harrow, “One flesh, one end, bitch.”

I love a private eye series because the discoveries I make as a reader about the flawed character of the PI mirror the journey the central character makes over the course of several books. In this masterful series, Cheryl Head creates a PI you want to root for: Charlene “Charlie” Mack. Charlie leads her own Detroit investigation firm and relies on a motley team of experts, each with their own quirks and strengths. In this book, Charlie faces down a widespread conspiracy with anti-Muslim hate crimes at its core. Like many of the private eye novels I admire, this one delves into contemporary social issues with a sharp eye for nuance and realism without skimping on the entertainment and action.

I adore Sherlock pastiches, and this is one of my favorites with its high magic urban fantasy setting, pan sorceress Sherlock, and gay trans man Watson. Obviously, the leads aren’t romantically entwined. Instead, the plot revolves around Sherlock’s ex-paramour and current client, pan Irene Adler, whose impending marriage to a woman is being threatened by blackmail.

It’s joyously irreverent with a ton of literary allusions and dear Watson’s earnest and wholesome narrative voice. If you enjoy magic with your mystery, this book is for you.

I love a first-person narrative that sucks you in, and this compelling coming-of-age story as told by Molly Bolt, is a whopper. Not since the voice of Scout narrating To Kill a Mockingbird has a voice touched generations with its telling of her own story. This was the book that made me want to be a writer. I wanted to be brave like Molly…and brave like Rita Mae.

From childhood to adolescence, and all through college, we follow our hero Molly as she comes into her own about her sexuality with uncompromising strength and flat-out hilarious storytelling. It is remarkable that Rita Mae Brown’s 1973 novel has not yet found its way to the silver screen and it is the single book that made me want to be a writer. It seems that a story with such a strong roadmap, written long before the roads were paved, deserves a film.… show more.

When talking about how gender can be disconnected from bodies, I like to tell the story of when my very young son called a Hummer truck ‘masculine’ and then wondered aloud how a car can be masculine. In that vein, this book shows how the idea of masculinity is something much wider and more complicated than a ‘trait of men’ connected to the bodies of men.

With grounded and deeply researched examples, Halberstam shows how these masculine traits not only can be ‘de-linked’ from the ‘male body,’ but how they have been so throughout history. He also shows how female masculinity has often been hidden or forgotten. This book is a classic in gender studies, and once you have read it, it’s impossible to think of gender in the same way as before.

Five women find salvation in each other in a beachside hamlet on Uruguay’s eastern coast. With no running water or electricity, the isolated Cabo Polonio becomes their sanctuary, a place where these cantoras (women who "sing”) can exercise their voice – something denied them as queer women under the Uruguayan dictatorship of 1970s and 80s.

The book follows the friends over the span of 35 years as they continue to return to this family home of theirs, sometimes together, sometimes with new lovers. Beautifully written, the book is brimming with heart and is a testament to the power of activism and solidarity.