Books like Murder in the Marais — picked by fans

I love Sarah Paretsky’s novels because her private investigator V.I. Warshawski is a vulnerable badass. This 21st installment is classic Warshawski who, like me, is now a woman of a certain age. She may be a bit slower to recover from physical challenges, but her passion for justice is as strong as ever as she confronts Chicago corruption and mobsters from the cold waters of Lake Michigan to her childhood Southside neighborhood, one we’ve come to love as much as she does.

There’s a freeway sign on the way to Palm Springs that directs you to “Other Desert Cities.” I love that sign because it so captures the desert, and so does Katherine V. Forrest in her 10th installment of a Kate Delafield mystery. Brought out of retirement by threats from an innocent woman she put in jail when she was a cop, Delafield must marshal her defenses and her feelings to return to the arid tranquility she thought she’d found.

Another unlikely heroine, but only because she sees ghosts—okay, okay, maybe also because seeing ghosts or even talking about them is strictly forbidden in Rita Todacheene’s Navajo culture.

I loved this book so, so much for both its detail and its unusual premise. Todacheene’s ghosts haunt her and play an active part in her investigations as a forensic photographer. And, since the author was a forensic photographer herself, the work rings true and sharp. Ghosts aside, she also has to contend with her own culture, a struggle with which I’m intimately familiar.  

I also loved the way that Emerson structured this book—Todacheene’s beloved cameras, acting as framing devices, guide us through her timeline, and she keeps on learning things about herself even as we go from the most advanced camera to the oldest possible film-based option. I can’t wait to read the second in this series to see what our… show more.

This Cemetery of Books series prompted my wife and me to repeatedly interrupt our reading with “Check out this passage” comments. Zafón’s prose and Lucia Graves’ translation are that beautiful. In the final book, they superbly depict repressive, Franco-era Barcelona and characters like Alicia Rico, who carries the pain and scars of the Spanish civil war while uncovering injustices with the help of book lovers who safeguard banned books and deep secrets. We visited Barcelona before reading the series but welcomed this return to Las Ramblas and other locales.

One of the funniest books I’ve ever read. Set in Paris in the 1920s, this mystery has everything I want in an escapist read: a suave detective, his sharpshooting, bad-ass girlfriend, a twisty, unpredictable plot, and fabulous, quirky characters.

Many are based on icons of the era: Josephine Baker, Picasso, Gertrude Stein, Hemingway, and all the usual Midnight in Paris celebrities. I first read this in my teens, and I still reread it for the madcap humor and view of Paris in the 1920s written by someone who was there.

This provocative work of investigatory scholarship takes a dim view of private eyes, but that’s fair enough – as a detective (definitely not a saint) who has never carried a gun myself, I share the author’s dismay at the violent anti-heroes of mythic American lore. Ruehlmann’s question in this book is also my own: why are people so interested in private eyes? Answering it, he traces the idea of an omniscient private eye back to the outlaw vigilantes of the Old West, draws a distinction between intellectual English detectives and the musclemen of American noir, and includes an overview of modern masters of detective fiction along with a history of the profession starting in 18th-century France. Who knew? None of it is flattering, which makes it even more fun to read. 

Unlike my other book choices, Why Kings Confess has a male protagonist, Sebastian St. Cyr. In my opinion, a very good historical mystery series got even better when Sebastian married Hero Jarvis, the brilliant and outspoken daughter of Sebastian’s mortal enemy, Lord Jarvis, a ruthless advisor to the crown. Hero writes searing investigative articles on societal injustice and, despite being heavily pregnant, participates actively in Sebastian’s work. In this book they investigate the brutal death of a man who was part of a secret delegation sent by Napoleon to determine the possibility of peace with Britain. The author is a historian who manages to seamlessly incorporate a lot of fascinating information about Regency England.

This is not your average detective story.

This was a different and enjoyable read for me. An escort turns detective when one of her customers is murdered. While this delves into the life of an escort, it is a ‘murder mystery’ with the focus on solving the murder of her client, and not her services.

The main character is delightfully forward in her reasoning, and I was invested from the start. So much so, and very intriguingly, while the story is told in the POV of the escort, I did not learn her name at all. And even stranger, it was only at the end that I realized this.

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.

John Connolly is simply a terrific writer. In this Detective Charlie Parker novel, the Maine woods are a character in themselves—sinister, overbearing, and almost certainly harbouring—you guessed it—real evil. Connolly’s Charlie Parker is haunted—literally—and dangerous. He’s a complex and darkly charismatic figure that I find compelling. The Wrath of Angels has at its core the battle between Good and Evil, but it is played out by imperfect characters in a very spooky atmosphere. It has all the ingredients of a horror novel, doesn’t it? But John Connolly manages darker themes believably and again, for me, it mixes genres beautifully—and believe me, that’s not easy.