100 Books Like Moonshine

If anyone can successfully blend post-apocalyptic fiction, romance, and fantasy into one amazing book, it’s definitely Ruby Dixon. I admit that when I first discovered this book, I was skeptical that it would be able to juggle those elements successfully.

However, this book introduces us to a fascinating post-apocalyptic world destroyed by the one thing nobody expects dragons! As it turns out, though, these are humanoid people who can shift into dragons at will. The world-building in this book and in the series that follows it is just right—compelling without being overwhelming—and the spice is, as usual with Dixon, irresistible. Highly recommended.

This book has it all in terms of amazing romance tropes: forced proximity, only one bed, rescue romance, grumpy/sunshine…but somehow, it never feels formulaic or forced. Kent’s prose is simple but evocative, and the spice is both hot and sweet.

I loved seeing Travis evolve through Layne’s eyes from a taciturn, grumpy guy she’s stuck with to a man that she realizes fully embodies the saying that “still waters run deep.” Their devotion to each other and their determination to create a life worth living even in a world they no longer recognize is touching and stayed with me long after I finished reading.

I truly never thought I’d be into “why choose” romance, but here we are, and Rebecca Quinn converted me. What I love about this book is that despite having five (yes, five!) main male characters, each one is so distinct and fully formed that it never feels confusing or repetitive to hop between their perspectives.

The relationship between Eden and the Brutes, as well as the relationships between the Brutes themselves, are complex, layered, and often messy in a way that feels authentic and real. Quinn’s prose is lovely, and the spice…let’s just say several of those scenes live in my head rent-free. The sequel is just as memorable and may be even better than the first book (how often does that happen?!).

We’ve somehow managed to make it to the end of a list of post-apocalyptic fiction without mentioning zombies, but I’m here to remedy that with this book. It has everything you love about zombie apocalypses but with the added element of a sweet, sizzling romance between a capable, kickass heroine and a dreamy former Marine.

This novel kicks off a series with plenty of zombies, spice, and even a mystery or two. Both main characters are compelling, and I enjoyed following their journey over the three books in this series.

The Garden in Every Sense and Season isn’t strictly speaking about food gardening, but Tovah Martin loves homegrown fruits and vegetables as much as I do, and that comes shining through on the pages of this book. She “lives on lettuce,” describes herself as “brassica-centric” (picture broccoli and cauliflower as the main event at lunch), is passionate about Jade bush beans and will have no other, and lusts for Chester Thornless blackberries. You get the idea?

What appeals to me most about Martin’s book, apart from her astute observations and deep knowledge about all kinds of plants – edible as well as ornamental; cultivated as well as wild – is her exuberance. About the rhythms of nature, the growth cycle, and the sensual pleasures to be had, every day in every season. I find her voice simply infectious. Reading this book is sure to make you smile, and perhaps help… show more.

No can deny that pie is magic, but in this book, pies are literal magic: anyone who eats the fruit pies at the Blackbird Café will receive messages from their long-lost loved ones, thanks to the blackbirds who arrive at midnight and sing their dreams.

I adore the touch of magical realism in this gentle novel, and I can never read it without wanting a slice of pie and a glass of blackberry sweet tea. There’s something so quintessentially summery and wholesome about this book that you can practically taste it as you turn the pages.

This charmingly compact cookbook is a favorite of mine and never far from my kitchen.

It’s chock full of recipes for old-fashioned, seasonal fruit desserts by the owner of Portland, Oregon’s Baker & Spice. I particularly love the rustic berry crisps, wholesome cakes, and boozy bread puddings inspired by the ingredients of the Pacific Northwest.The Sour Cherry Cobbler is a delightful recipe I come back to again and again.

Organized by season for easy reference, the luscious, up-close photographs are half the appeal. But the recipes for this irresistible assortment of desserts are reliable, unfussy, and delicious, making it my favorite seasonal cookbook of the bunch.

Unlike Welty’s works featuring honorable or broadly comic characters, this dense story cycle was never excerpted in anthologies. It’s a trickier cast: consider Jinny Love Stark and Virgie Rainey, who cut through the languor of Depression-era Mississippi with stone-cold intention. Jinny Love plays croquet with her lover to enrage her volatile husband; she encourages her daughter to wear lizards as earrings to offend the propriety of her own controlling mother. Impoverished piano prodigy Virgie flouts her gift merely to watch her teacher go mad. Later, she trims her dead mother’s yard with sewing scissors while neighbors do the real work of laying out the body and receiving mourners. The heat presses forward. What day is it? What hour? This is weird, experimental Welty, and the payoff is sweet.

What shall we do, when at last the intricate oppressions, we have built for ourselves are pushed plainly into view? Cory Doctorow’s collection of novellas bills itself not fictions of tomorrow, but stories of our present moment. Immigration, police brutality, tech monopoly, online radicalization, all bubble sharply and brilliantly to the surface here, in a world that, frankly, doesn’t seem that far from ours. What will you do, when your toaster tells you that the bread you bought is not a compatible product? Cory Doctorow might tell you. You might not like the answer very much. Either way, with stellar writing and keen insight, Radicalized is the best kind of political fiction, unapologetic, and empathic.

This collection of short stories by twenty different authors explores how a fictional deadly disease affects a range of people, from scientists to government officials to everyday teens. (My contribution is chapter 13, “Escape to Orange Blossom.”) What I especially enjoyed about this anthology is the way that the characters from one story might appear in another. Using a single incident to drive the plot, the collaborative nature sets this collection apart.