Books like Party of Two — picked by fans

I absolutely love Amber as a comedian, so when I found out she and her sister were writing a book about racism, I was all kinds of intrigued. This book is hilarious, of course, but it also highlights the inherent ridiculousness of racism in a way that can be difficult to show in fiction. I mean, how else can you be mistaken for a prominent historical figure who has been dead for centuries at the bank?

This book made me laugh, made me angry, and made me feel so seen. Sometimes, I need a spoonful of sugar to help the hard lessons go down, and this book offers a whole lot of humor to really drive home important messages about how society treats us as Black women. 

Grumpy/Sunshine is one of my favorite romance tropes, and this book does it absolutely perfectly. The chemistry between the main characters had me kicking my feet and squealing the entire time.

Talia Hibbert’s books, especially this one, just make me smile. They bring me so much joy and are funny, sweet, sexy, and oh so swoon-worthy. I’m also obsessed with the idea of running an adorable bed and breakfast, and I love seeing neurodivergence and autism spectrum being portrayed in literature in a more nuanced and positive way.

The banter is top-notch, and the relationship is one of my favorites in modern romance. 

A secret underground book club, small-town kooky characters, a main character trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life, and a book-loving, star-crossed love interest, how could I not love this book?

Shauna Robinson has such a warm and inviting writing style (and she’s sharply witty to boot). Her characters leap off the page, and I know that this book totally made me want to start an underground book club to stick it to the people who think that they should dictate what everyone in a community can read.

Breaking the rules and societal norms is the way to go with this read. 

This book made me want to scream at the main characters (in the best way!) most of the way through. There’s a perfect meet-cute, the kind that had me wondering why no one has ever thought to approach me in that way.

Plus, as a recovering grad student, I totally relate to having a quarter-life crisis and trying to figure out if the career I thought I wanted was really where I wanted to go.

The dialogue is whip-fast (even when the main character, Angie, is decidedly NOT getting her s*** together), and the romance combined with the growth that Angie experiences over the course of the book makes the ultimate payoff totally worth it. 

In both my novels I explore the cultural, almost exclusively oral history of Maine woodsmen and -women. An old man now, I knew people who worked as loggers, river drivers, and so on before the advent of power tools, electricity, or motorized hauling.

A non-writer friend told me about this book, which is concerned with the same culture across the New Brunswick border, mere miles from where my novels are set. His evocation of that arduous, raconteur-populated, dangerous world bolstered my own seat-of-the-pants knowledge and offered a wealth of specific physical detail and a sense of storytelling’s central importance in the old logging communities.

The book, then, served as a model for my own explorations of a culture whose likes we will never see again and whose preservation in words is among my own most passionate aims. 

First of all—a holiday story set in New York City? Who can resist that? Like the heroine, I am one of those people who loves immersing myself in Christmas as soon as Halloween is over. That usually means reading several holiday-set novels. With this book, I found myself turning pages faster and faster, yet never wanting the book to end.

The hero worried me. He’d faced a tragedy and shut himself off from the world. Sometimes, that can be too dark for my reading pleasure. But Sarah is a masterful storyteller. Her heroine is so empathetic and caring (possibly at the risk of breaking her own heart) that the hero is ever-so-slowly coaxed back from the brink of disaster.

Even for readers not from the Christmas tradition, the unfolding story will be satisfying. 

The greatest pleasure of an enemies-to-lovers romance? Witty banter. Which you'll find in droves in Brockway's Victorian-set epistolary romance. A conservative Englishman leaves his estate to 19-year-old suffragette Lillian Bede—not because he admires Lily, but because he’s sure she’ll fail to make the estate profitable in five years.

The letters between Lily and her benefactor’s peripatetic explorer nephew Avery Thorne, the man who will inherit the estate if she falls flat, charmed me as they gradually move from competitive satirical banter to mutual tolerance, and then to something more: friendship, affection—and perhaps even love? 

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when talking to a stranger online, one immediately hopes that they are seriously good-looking (and also hopefully kind of tall). It is also a truth universally acknowledged that Ali Hazelwood will deliver big, hulking, hot guys who seem grumpy but have hearts of gold in her novels. Love on the Brain combines these two universal truths into a workplace enemies-to-lovers romp that is stuffed with fluffy STEM goodness. 

This book is off the rails in the best way. It delivers secret penpals who don’t realize that they are grad school enemies and current coworkers, a NASA lab setting, an alternative heroine who faints all the time for swoony rescue-me moments, cats, nerdy references, terrible puns, and spicy scenes. But truly, the romance wasn’t even my favorite part.

What I enjoyed most was putting on my HR hat and trying to investigate just who… show more.

I adore Klimt's masterpiece The Kiss, and when I saw that this book was about the model for the painting, I knew I needed to read it.

The relationship between model and artist feels genuine and provides an enjoyable reading experience.

I love to read about artists in Paris in the 1930s. And this book is about a woman who tries to leave the world of modeling to become a photographer, and then she morphs again into one of the only WW2 journalists.

Lee Miller was a real person and she fell in love with Surrealist Man Ray in Paris.