Books like Love in a Small Town — picked by fans

I recommend this because it’s hard.

Achieving happily-ever-after after betrayal isn’t for the faint of heart and this book addresses that. You get the feels and, frankly, you suffer a little bit.

The hero isn’t likable and the reader has to learn to see what she saw. His point of view gives a special “yes, this” quality to the story. 

I love this story, although my heart was breaking the whole time I read it.

Sam and Rachel’s dream of a houseful of kids is going to come true, at least for 12 days, although it’s already too late to salvage their marriage. Too much has happened…or hasn’t.

Rachel and Sam have already faced more loss and disappointment than they can bear, but it’s amazing what the heart can handle when it needs to, albeit with lots of cracks and scar tissue.

And it’s Christmas, after all… 

This is written by one of my favorite authors of Amish stories.

There is much heartache in this story, but that goes along with the marriage resurrected theme; regardless of what happens, the story of a marriage disintegrating is painful.

While there is never doubt that Judith and Isaac’s relationship will survive, the story of how is captivating. 

I could cheerfully “pick” any one of Kathleen Gilles Seidel’s books as a recommendation.

I have read, loved, and reread them all. In my reading mind, she has the purest voice in both romantic fiction and women’s fiction. Her characters are all fascinating, all different, and all relatable. They make you care.

Within this writer’s voice lies tenderness that is never wordy, never sappy, never tired. I don’t have enough words to explain it, so by all means, read hers for yourself. 

It truly is a diary, and it rests in the local county museum in rural Pennsylvania. Being a Pennsylvanian myself, I was fascinated to read this Civil War account of a foot soldier who came back alive and lived to a ripe old age as a local businessman. Bull’s story really does read like a movie script and I plan at some point to do exactly that with it. The story of courage and the logic he uses to get through each day as a soldier, wanting nothing more than to do his duty and to return home.

I include this book for two reasons. First, Thompson describes a turn-of-the-twentieth-century range war, largely forgotten (and utterly unknown to me!) that raged a few miles from my family’s cattle ranch in eastern Oklahoma. Second, Thompson discovered the story when he stumbled across articles hidden in a deceased relative’s closet.

My recent book emerged in much the same way—from articles and correspondence hidden for a half-century. My goal is to bring hidden history to light—in this case, the history of a statesman and 6-term congressman who has languished in undeserved obscurity for decades.

Morrison’s most ambitious and most underrated novel, Paradise (1997) tells the story of Ruby, a town founded by a group of African-Americans turned away after slavery from other black townships because of their darker skin color. Ruby’s male leaders accordingly establish a patriarchal community devoted to keeping bloodlines pure and youth in line. This stern society inevitably clashes with the inhabitants of a former convent on its fringes where a multiracial group of fugitive women come together amid the tumult of the 1960s. In this intensely written and kaleidoscopically structured violent epic, Morrison rewrites the Biblical Exodus and the American myth of westward settlement, she sets Christianity against Gnosticism, and she strives to do nothing less than reinvent religion for the postmodern world. Reading this as a teenager in the late ‘90s showed me that contemporary fiction could aspire to be as grand and world-changing as the classics.

When I studied the civil rights movement, nobody told me about Clara Luper or the Oklahoma City sit-ins, which took place a year and a half before the Greensboro sit-in. I didn’t even realize there was segregation that far west. Someday Is Now helps fill that common knowledge gap, but it’s also a solid introduction to “separate and unequal,” as well as a portrait of a teacher and civil rights activist who should be better known. It left me wanting to learn more about Luper and the children who joined her, especially Luper’s nine-year-old daughter Marilyn, who by her own account proposed the sit-in—without ever having heard of one!

I first read this as a teen and fell hard for the characters that populate this story and Novalee’s life. Pregnant and abandoned, Novalee’s life is the definition of loss at the start of the story—but by the end, her life is filled with such love and richness that it’s easy to forget how she started.

She continues to experience loss as the story continues, but the strength her found family gives her demonstrates how the right people can help us grow. These characters are quirky and loving, and I can’t help but wish they were all real every time I read it.

Henderson was a homesteader and teacher in the Oklahoma panhandle and this collection of her writing creates a compelling first-hand portrait of the Dust Bowl. Impeccably detailed about rural farm life, from the days of prosperity to the bare-bones existence necessitated by hardship, Henderson is a thoughtful, ponderous guide. “Out here we thought the depths of the depression had been fathomed some time ago when the sheriff subtracted from the very personal possessions of one our neighbors a set of false teeth that he had been unable to pay for.”