100 Books Like Kink

This is my favorite book about non-monogamy and polyamory; it uses attachment theory to explain our relationship dynamics. I particularly loved how detailed the book was. She described some of the self-destructive and less-than-ideal behaviors and thoughts I’ve had in past non-monogamous relationships and explained, “Okay, here’s why you’re likely doing this, and here’s how you become secure enough to do this stupid shit, no longer.”

I remember feeling very motivated after reading Fern’s book, as if I had an action plan for future relationships. Now—and hopefully, I’m not jinxing it here—I’m in the healthiest non-monogamous relationship I’ve ever been in. 

This notorious 1969 Roth novel is a monologue of a self-loathing and sexually repressed Jewish man to his psychologist.

He recounts in excruciating detail his efforts to escape his parents’ interference in his life and his lifelong obsession with bedding a "shiksa" (non-Jewish woman). Portnoy’s rants are brilliant, vulgar, and entertaining – though the cultural references are dated and female readers might become incensed at the demeaning descriptions of “Monkey” (the shiksa he finally beds).

In a story I wrote, a man facetiously asks his female friend whether Carrie Bradshaw’s neuroticism and sexual dalliances would make her the “female Portnoy.” Both are insightful, emotionally needy, and charming characters. Behind this novel’s sexual humor is a complex portrait of a man trapped by his own obsessions.

While some aspects of our sexuality are innate, many are born through pivotal sexual experiences in our lives. This book breaks this down and encourages readers to unpack where their sexual desires came from so they can remove shame and have healthy sexual relationships. 

It encouraged me to be introspective about the root of my desires. For so long, I had steered clear of this. I believed that feeling the need to understand the origin of our desires was coming from a place of sex-negativity, an attempt to “justify” our current sexual behavior, which I don’t think requires justification. 

But after reading Morin’s book, I felt I understood my sexual desires better than ever before, and it led to me having more meaningful, passionate, and wild sex.

I lost my fucking mind reading this book—and I mean this in the best way imaginable. Yamas briefly became the largest meth and GHB dealer for the gay community in San Francisco. It looks at the underground Chemsex (chemical sex) scene in the gay community and details how meth destroys lives. 

I found the book heartbreaking because these gay men are so hurt and so desperate for love and validation, and the only way they can find it is through doing drugs and having sex with strangers. Don’t get me wrong, it can be hot, empowering, and even therapeutic to do drugs and have anonymous sex, but it was not for these men. As someone who’s struggled with drug use and, at times, relied on drugs and alcohol to have sex and intimacy, this book really spoke to me. 

This is a lovely memoir of falling in true love for the first time. The author was the same age as me when she fell in love for the first time in a magical Paris when she was there as a serious musical student.

As I read, I was transported with her to that time and sent spinning back into my own life at the same age as a serious drama student falling in love in Amsterdam.

The book is romantic at first and so true to the heart, as well as the experience of losing oneself to another for the first time. I loved experiencing Paris with her and her love of music. A not famous author who deserves to be.

I can always count on Tiffany Reisz for a witty, banter-filled romance, and this sexy seasonal delight is no exception. After a bad breakup, Joey heads to her family’s Oregon cabin, where her troubles are eased by the presence of her brother’s gorgeous best friend, Chris. But this hookup with the handyman has the potential to last past October 31st.

The funny and flirtatious dialogue here kept me laughing.

This is really terrible–if highly moreish–stuff: a thin, junky, first-drafty picaresque. But it formed the basis of a film starring Jackie’s sister, Joan. The film even had a tie-in aftershave (heavy on the ginseng), promising all kinds of advantages for the wearer. The film and the book both try to suggest a deluxe, upmarket, classy melding of disco culture with the post-permissive society sexual freedoms now available to the 1970s bachelor and (as an ill-informed nod to feminism) the businesswoman.

This imagined milieu was a million miles from the sleazy, criminal experience of London’s Soho, which had traditionally been where all this erotic access was clustered. The aspiration was shared by Paul Raymond, who worked to translate the risqué stage shows of the 1960s (think pre-fame Christine Keeler) to more contemporary fare for the proto-Thatcherite managerial class, keen to see what secular society had to offer them and their new… show more.

I believe in second chances. That’s why Forget Me Not is one of my favorite romance reads of the year!

Ama Torres is a wedding planner who (ironically) doesn’t believe in marriage. This may or may not be the reason why handsome and brooding florist Elliot Bloom seems so distant and broken-hearted. They were an item—until something went terribly wrong!

This is a swoon-worthy read with snappy banter and plenty of spice. Watching these two fall in love all over again is sweet enough to give me cavities.

I loved the uniqueness of this book, centred around the novelty of email in 1999. I love the idea of a nerdy guy whose job it is to read other folks' emails as he struggles with young adulthood approaching the dreaded Y2K. I loved how his POV is beautifully interspersed with cute epistolary exchanges.

This book sparked my love for Carian Cole's books, and I've one clicked on her books ever since.

This age-gap romance between Toren and Kenzi happened organically, and I loved watching their platonic love morph into romantic love. Tor’s pet name for Kenzi was Angel, which was fitting for the kind-hearted, strong heroine.

I think what most impacted me about the nickname was how it transformed throughout the book. At first, Angel was just a sweet endearment, but it matured as Kenzi did. Every time she worried about animals or showed concern for her dad, the nickname felt more and more fitting.