100 Books Like Lethal White

The quest to endure and overcome against seemingly impossible odds is a strong theme with The Highway. I liked that and also that the characters came alive from the first page.

The main character Cassie Dewell’s interaction with those around her keeps you guessing as to whether she is smart or flaky. As a rookie investigator in a rural sheriff’s department beset with corruption she has her work cut out to survive. The stressed interplay of her family and work life ramps up tension when she gets on the trail of a serial killer, snatching his victims from highways and truck stops. The plot is compelling and you hold your breath as you leaf through each page. If page-turning crime thrillers are your thing, I recommend The Highway.

Silver brims with wonderful scene setting in rural Australia—you can almost smell the barbeques and hear the cockatoos. What I like about the main character, Martin Scarsdale, is that he’s prepared to go places and take chances where others fear to tread. A journalist rather than a detective, he uses his journalistic nous to solve crimes with which the police struggle. His motivation is his innate desire to expose the truth, especially when others are trying to conceal it.

If you enjoy crime thrillers with colourful characters and plots with lots of twists and turns, Silver is for you.

The Dentist features a great plot and a uniquely different main character.

The main character, DS George Cross, is socially awkward and frequently comes across as rude in his interaction with people, including colleagues. Nonetheless, his unfailing logic and dogged pursuit of leads others ignore make him a compelling protagonist. This police procedural keeps the reader guessing whether George’s single-mindedness is indicative of his autism spectrum diagnosis or inspired genius. His consistent logical approach to investigating leads brooks no deviation just because important figures might get snared. The Dentist is a great start to a promising crime thriller series.

Ian Cobain’s writing style is fluid and his story of the real-life murder of Constable Millar McAllister by the IRA in 1978 reads like a bestselling crime novel.

The politically violent period between 1968 and 1998 is euphemistically referred to in Ireland as ‘The Troubles.’ A civil rights campaign in Northern Ireland’s divided society was hijacked by violent people on either side. Cobain, a British journalist, superbly sets the story of the killing in the political context of the time. He vividly describes the role each IRA member played in the murder and the consequences for them as individuals. If you are interested in Ireland, Irish politics, or would just like to comprehend the domestic terrorist war that was—‘The Troubles,’ Cobain’s account is riveting.

As I indicated earlier, I am a Lee Child superfan. I’ve read all his original books. A thick (and expensive) biography. A long essay he wrote on heroism. All his short stories. You get the idea. So it was fun to re-read this book, his first.

It wasn’t what I remembered, that’s for sure! Yes, the action scenes are vivid and instructive (Child writes about the utility of a headbutt versus the risk of breaking your hand with a punch), and the action is what I remember most. But there’s more to this book than fights: there’s a major romance, which the author writes with gusto and in detail, heavy on feelings, not on private parts; the prose is better than solid, with imagery that really makes it come alive; and the story is plausible and tightly woven, with plenty of surprises. 

A retro pulp-fiction novel from one of the world’s best-selling authors, David Baldacci.

A Gambling Man is the second intriguing story in Baldacci’s Archer Series about a former WWII veteran working as a private detective. Archer is joined en route to Los Angeles by a beautiful young lady with ambitions in Hollywood who leads them into dangerous territory with murderous gangsters and politicians trying to improve the odds in their favour.

Baldacci’s Archer Series is modeled on the early detective stories of authors like Raymond Chandler and Mickey Spillane. He creates a tough guy detective in the style of the early masters while making Archer more appealing to modern readers – less macho and more respectful of the independent women joining his fight to stop the death and destruction. 

Corris and his protagonist, the hard-scrabble private detective Cliff Hardy, are quintessentially Australian. The Dying Trade introduces Cliff (smoker, drinker, ex-boxer) and sets the standard for all the books that follow in this series. It’s dry and laconic, with a wonderful sense of place (a very gritty 1980s Sydney). There’s a definite nod to the greats— Chandler and Hammett in this series; you know Cliff Hardy probably shouldn’t take this job, it’s odds-on he’ll cop a beating along the way, possible he’ll find love and lose it again. I enjoy the author’s economy with words and the moral complexity of his characters. If you like hard-boiled crime, this series is worth a look!

*Note: Sydney is much nicer than it may seem when you walk in Corris’s shoes!

This is a historical mystery, but so much more than a whodunit. It’s fourth in the series, but can be read alone if you don’t mind spoiling the earlier books a bit. It’s a stand-out to me because it’s about raising one’s voice against inhumanity, even when it seems commonplace, or necessary.

Maisie is an intuitive detective and as such, has to fight against conventional police interference, client skepticism, and male smugness. But what she’s fighting for is the right outcome for everyone concerned, including the victim of the crime. This novel focuses on an artist ex-soldier of WWI who was using his voice to criticize the powers within government. I just love how Maisie deliberately wields her compassion in order to see the full picture of a case.

I love Anne Perry's murder mystery books. Her historical novels take us back to a place that none of us remember but feel familiar through Charles Dickens. We learn about the dark side of Victorian England. Perry shows us the grit and struggle of the times. Her characters are complex, and we see their growth. Detective Thomas Monk (before the television show) is in a field still struggling for professionalism, and he grapples with that status. We also learn about the development of the nursing profession and how women helped and fought for rights through the other main character, Hester Latterly. Perry does an outstanding job of showing not only the surroundings but also the characters' feelings and how they processed their surroundings and pasts.

William Gibson, “The Father of Cyberpunk,” is responsible for much of our current technology.

In Pattern Recognition, however, Gibson isn’t writing about a future decades away, but just a hint ahead, enough for us to think that the future may well be more intriguing than the present—and to understand its deep roots in the past. Through Cayce Pollard, with her allergy to bad branding, Gibson navigates the brittle edge of fashionable London, weaving in a dark documentary in Russia, a series of film stills rising like fish to the surface of the internet, and a father lost in the aftermath of 9/11.

Part mystery, part coolness commentary, and stunningly well-written, this book will have you blinking when you wake from the dream Gibson has created.