76 Books Like House on Fire

I don’t even remember everything about this book, except that this was the book that made me an instant Sandra Brown fan. In Envy, a NY book editor is riveted by the tale of an unsolicited manuscript and begins working with the author…only to learn along the way that this story reveals a long-concealed crime. I’ve read it twice, years apart, and I’m due for another reading. It’s that good. Explosive is the only way to describe this suspenseful story with an amazing twist at the end! One of my absolute favs!

Linwood Barclay is adept at dreaming up quirky characters. Find You First frequently switches between points of view, but there is no confusion because the characters are distinct and interesting.

On the face of it, this is a tale of two men with too much money. Tech billionaire Miles donated sperm as a student and wishes to trace his natural children. Meanwhile, sleazy Jeremy, a Jeffrey Epstein-style character, is trying to silence his victims. However, the real stars are two sparky young women, Chloe and Nicky. Chloe, suddenly confronted by the father she never knew, joins forces with Miles to find out why his other kids are being killed. Fifteen-year-old Nicky is the victim who fights back. When the disparate strands of the story come together, these ladies kick butt.

I picked this book up because it was super cheap in hardcover. It had an interesting premise with a suspense set in the business world between two competing companies. Not typically my thing, but I gave it a chance because of the price. Once I started to read it, Joseph Finder became one of my favorite authors. I could not put this down and read it in three days. It had me on the edge of my seat as the main character has to infiltrate another company, and OMG, the twist at the end! I loved this book so much that I decided to attend the Thrillerfest conference in Phoenix that year because Joseph Finder would be there. Yep, that’s how much I loved the book. I met him and gushed like a fool!

Guilt, shame, and family obligation…these human aspects are a great basis for a down-to-earth protagonist. A young woman is murdered in Will’s family home, and his brother is the prime suspect. On her deathbed, Will’s mother tells Will to find his brother. 

This quest puts Will at the center of the investigation because many people want Will’s brother found…dead or alive. It’s one of those stories that escalates, which kept me hooked as a reader. It has a simple premise but evolves into something far more complex that will change Will forever.

Early Autumn made me cry from two directions. As a tween, reading about Spenser’s rescue of Paul, a shut-down, emotionally neglected boy that Spenser first assesses as “an unlovely little bastard”, I cried in sympathy and relief for Paul.

Over a summer, Spenser taught him skills, built up his strength and gave him the confidence to find his own dreams, before leaving him at the doorway to the life he now knew he wanted. As an adult, I cried with joy for Spenser, who connected with a stranger, taught what he had to teach, and changed a life.

Really helping someone in a lasting way is rarely so easy as it was in this book, but it’s a worthwhile dream and this Cinderella story gets me every time.

Like Paretsky’s V. I. and Grafton’s Kinsey Milhone, six-foot, former police officer and intrepid Boston P.I. Carlotta Carlyle is dogged, street smart, and tough while navigating the vagaries of big city corruption and big money influence.

She is bored by her desk job undercover assignment investigating fraud in Boston’s Big Dig construction project. She craves the action that I, as a reader, want to see her undertake. I hope this is also the type of character I have created in my book.

As great as it was, Eddie Coyle didn’t leave much of a cultural footprint, at least not until the movie adaptation starring Robert Mitchum was rediscovered decades after its initial release. Robert B. Parker’s Spenser is another matter entirely, having spawned nearly 40 novels by Parker, another 10 by Ace Atkins, a popular ‘80s TV series, and a Netflix movie starring Mark Walhberg. Picking just one of the durable shamus’s adventures is a daunting task, but I’ll give the nod to Ceremony for its evocation of the seedy seventies Combat Zone (Boston’s long-gone red light district) and the murky morality of Spenser’s dealings with a teen runaway turned sex worker.

Street names, the Charles River, bridges, the Back Bay, the Public Gardens, actual hotels and restaurants—Robert B. Parker’s forty Spenser novels make Boston so much a character that Parker wrote Spenser’s Boston. The sixth novel in the series, published in 1980, has Spenser searching for a missing lesbian activist who’s been kidnapped by an anti-gay group. Like Buffalo, Boston sometimes gets a lot of snow. Unlike Buffalo, which is not the snowiest city in New York but is depicted as such, Boston is not known as a snow capital. That Spenser must search during a blizzard is a welcome dose of realism.

Parker’s Spenser is a reliable tough guy with a good heart. A former soldier and heavyweight boxer, he tends to make short work of anyone foolish enough to fight him. But in Small Vices, he is shot by the villainous Gray Man and left for dead. After he’s discharged from the hospital, Spenser has to readjust to a gravely weakened body as he struggles to physically and mentally recover from his wounds.

This journey brings a new level of emotional depth to the series and lends added resonance to round two with the Gray Man, during which Spenser describes himself as Lazarus, “back from the grave to tell all.”

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.