Books like Kill Game — picked by fans

This book is an unconventional romance, but it is a sweeping one, with language that made me swoon and a love story that gave me reason to hope again. The main character, Vin, was a mystery I needed to solve. King Perry is the first in a book series that has opened my heart in ways I didn’t even know my heart needed opening. It’s a beautiful book (and series) that has the potential to change the way you look at life. Yes, it’s that good. 

I love a good world-building tale, and this series is phenomenal. I also felt a real connection with Kai in the second book, The Soldier, but to understand him, you have to read this book first. Kai’s thrown into a situation not of his own making, but he manages to land on his own feet. Not only that, but he finds the courage to open his heart in a situation where he’d be justified in completely shutting down. His bravery is something to behold. I also loved Tam’s unwavering optimism and their Master’s heart of gold. Unconventional relationships are my jam, and this is a gem of a series.

Jordan L. Hawk took a tired kind of trope and turned it into something amazing. I love paranormal stories, but with vampires, I need to be convinced. By the end of the first chapter, Jordan had me convinced. He took an opposites-attract story, threw a cranky vampire in the middle of it, and turned it into a love story that I now cannot wait for when each new installment is published. It’s fresh, exciting, and I’m still coming back for more. Jordan’s one of my auto-buy authors, and this is one of my favorites of his series. Hands down. The characters are vivid, the adventures unique, and their love story is one for the ages. There’s nothing ordinary about this book.

It takes a lot to make me emotional, and Jenn Burke managed to get me in the feels with each book in this series, starting with Not Dead Yet. Wes Cooper is not living, but not quite dead due to a spell performed by a witch. He can travel between the living plane and the other plane. When Wes witnesses a murder by something otherworldly, he’s not sure what to do. Crossing paths with his one-time lover Hudson Rojas isn’t what Wes expected, but it does mean he has help to figure out what’s going on. He just doesn’t expect to fall in love again. And oh what a love it is. More than once, I got choked up over Wes and Hudson. Read it. You won’t regret it.

While trying to learn about gay life in the 1920s, I was delighted to find this novel, “privately” published in 1919. One soon learns that Bertram Cope, who comes to teach at an undergraduate college as he works on an advanced degree, has a relationship with another young male with whom he plans to cohabit—interesting that two men could openly set up housekeeping together, even back then. Meanwhile an older matron, an aging homosexual man, and various young women hope to attract Cope’s attention. Though seen by some as a trivial social satire, Fuller’s light touch and subtle wit mask an undertone of eroticism and homosexual associations. His anonymous, authorial, third-person narrative voice is humorous and incisive, revealing his penetrating observations of social niceties and the layers of his characters’ maneuverings. Clever and understated, the book implies much that is never declared.

An urban-fantasy about superheroes...and how horrible they are. This story is about the “villains,” not the goodie goodie “heroes” who do nothing but leave disaster and death in their wake. This is a fun read, packed with an intriguing relationship, thoughtful social questions, and an interesting world. It may be short, but it’s super sweet.

This book was published by Lollipop Power Press, an iconic feminist publishing house formed in 1969. I have a soft spot for old-school one-color illustrations (these ones are forest green against an off-white background). Emily is raised in an intentional community of four women. One mom is studying to be an electrician. Another is a healer. Vicki drives a school bus. Annie Jo is a carpenter who loves to cook. No one at school believes that Emily has so many mothers, but that all changes when she falls on the playground and her amazing parents get called into school. Suddenly it's très cool to have so many moms. I want this book to have a revival. It’s so good.

This is such a life-affirming Australian story about a transgender teen and how their unlikely friendship with an elderly man sets them on a path to self-acceptance and peace. There are some heavy themes explored in this book – from suicide to drug abuse – but it is ultimately an uplifting and deeply moving novel that is told in such a tender way. It personally opened my eyes to the struggles transgender people go through with gender dysphoria, and shows how having the right people in your life can be the difference between life and death. It’s essential reading for LGBT people and allies.

Faggots pissed off a lot of people in the LGBTQ+ community when it was published in 1978, and Larry Kramer was accused of vilifying gay men for indulging in anonymous sex and recreational drugs. Unfortunately, the subsequent AIDS crisis, linked to unprotected sex and intravenous drug use, made the novel look like a prescient warning.

But the initial uproar and the retroactive clairvoyance attached to Faggots had no bearing on me when I read the novel in the 2000s. To me, there was a doomed innocence to these gay men. I didn’t begrudge them the joys of hot sex and exhilarating drugs. They didn’t know what was coming; they didn’t deserve what was coming. Books can take on new meaning across generations, and Faggots became a time capsule I cherish.

Here’s a story focused on a gender-atypical main character where the book isn’t about being genderqueer or being nonbinary or whatever.

Birdie’s gender characteristics are just there, the same way that a book set in Manhattan can have Manhattan in the foreground without being a book about Manhattan. I like the way that being gay and being trans are discarded as not really applicable to Birdie without some other replacement identity being pushed forward instead.