Books like Soul Unique — picked by fans

This book hooked me with the first sentence: “Half blinded by the storm, she stumbled into the open area between buildings.” Anne Bishop created a world with infinite care and remained consistent throughout this series. Although this is the first book, it can be read as a standalone. I felt immediately comfortable in Anne’s world and was able to slip right into the story.

Conflicts occurred, followed by dire consequences, yet detailed sex and violence were not used to carry the plot forward. Throughout this book, I felt as if her characters lived in my neighborhood; many of whom I would’ve wanted as friends. I became invested in them and wanted them to succeed. Dialogue was believable and flowed smoothly.

Normally, I catch errors in spelling and word usage in books I read, which slows the story way down. However, either I was too immersed in the story, or there… show more.

I liked the protagonist, Kate Delafield, immediately for her straightforward manner. Within very few pages, Katherine painted a picture of the neighborhood and the bar where a murder occurred in its back parking lot, yet she never caused the story to drag. Katherine pulled me in with her succinct description of the murder scene. It was as if I stood beside Kate Delafield.

As the detectives entered the bar, I felt lesbian history reverberating down through the years. As a lesbian, I identified with Kate Delafield and with the milieu within which she had to live and do her job as a police detective. I also understood the hostility of the bar patrons—all lesbians—toward the police. Without preaching, Katherine described the larger conflict inherent in the situation.

This book was so well-written that I “felt” the emotions of the characters; the sadness that a young life had been destroyed way… show more.

Major Jane McMurty is a complex character trying to work through PTSD acquired under fire in Afghanistan while integrating back into civilian society. Her “sidekick” is a dog named Shady who epitomizes the independence and intelligence of a working dog. As a past breeder of working GSDs, the interactions between woman and dog are quite realistic, and quickly pull me into the story.

This is a woman used to standing on her own two feet, but now they aren’t there. The love she has for the K-9 who went through the war with her, Shadow, shines through her actions, and in the way that she fights to bring Shadow home. Even though this novel highlights several very real issues faced by returning veterans and amputees, this is far from a “sob story.”

I love the strength the main character shows and the way she treats her current dog, Shady. That… show more.

This romance combines a look into the world of working guide dogs with a story of how two people grow to love each other and cherish the very different places from which they came. The characters—canine as well as human—are well-developed. The bond between human and canine, essential to the story, poignantly reminded me of a very special German Shepherd with whom I shared my life for all too few years.

Much like everyday communication, the dialogue flows, stutters, and gets sidetracked. I appreciated how the issues presented throughout the book are resolved realistically, whether between humans or dogs. As the characters grow and change, an unforgettable picture of how love can change the destiny of people and dogs is painted.

I recommend this book to anyone who wants to read a romance with depth and heart.

One thing about being adopted is you have an in-built radar to seek out others who are too. I read Jeanette Winterson’s first novel, Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit when I was a teenager, and since then, I have been in awe of her as a writer and her ability to eloquently describe her personal experience as an adoptee. 

This book is her autobiography, and there were occasions while reading it that I had to stop and cry. Finally, someone else had written about what I had kept holed up inside me. Her final chapter, "The Wound," speaks so profoundly to me as an adopted adult. It is honest, sharp, and fierce.

This historical novel also explores the lives of lesbians in the 1950s, but in a very different way: it is told in dual narratives, from the point of view of two teen girls growing up and coming out six decades apart. In 1955, eighteen-year-old Janet finds a series of books about women who love other women: lesbian pulp novels. Sixty-two years later, Abby is studying classic 1950s lesbian pulp fiction. It’s a cleverly constructed story and I love how the two stories are woven together.

From a queer history perspective, the book is well-researched and illuminates the danger and fear faced by so many queer people during the Lavender Scare, and the important role played by lesbian pulp novels in a time when young queer girls rarely saw others like themselves. 

Exalted follows two women, Emily, an Internet astrologer, and Dawn, a lesbian waitress looking for a connection of any sort.

Dorn’s writing is sharp and funny as she tracks the way that both women are forced to scrape together a living. I love to see a character at work, and Emily’s wry sense of humor as she manipulates viral trends and conjures somewhat bogus readings is a powerful engine for the story.

As the novel progresses, the main characters’ lives begin to overlap, and you begin to wonder whether some destinies are really written in the stars as any good astrologer would insist. 

Ah, The Ruthless Lady’s Guide to Wizardry delighted me and made me laugh from the first page. It’s radically funny and inexorably inventive. Best of all, it follows a protagonist who doesn’t know how great she is—who thinks she’s kind of terrible, really—and it takes a newfound community of friends and fellow wizard ladies to reflect back to her a new opinion of herself. The language is Dickensian (only better!) in its wit and flexibility. It abounds in amazing female characters. And while there’s a fun romance, it’s the friendships that get me in my sticking place. I just wanted to hug this book when I finished. I wanted to have written it. I’m glad Waggoner did instead.

This book sits at the center of my heart. It is personal, vulnerable, and incredibly moving.

It follows Pustata’s relationship with her mother who struggles to acknowledge her daughter’s queer identity. As children of survivors, it’s about the boundaries we must articulate to survive ourselves and the hope we must keep in the secret parts to leave space for transformation.

Her sensitivity and strength are always in conversation with each other and always equally felt.

This book is unhinged in the best way. I love Gideon’s unique voice. Around her is a deadly-serious necromancer murder mystery with interplanetary stakes, and she cares more about cracking dirty jokes and finally eating some warm food. Her relationship with her arch-nemesis/only friend Harrow leaps off the page.

I love the scene where they get into a pool so Harrow can finally confess to Gideon her darkest secret—so hot and so disturbing all at the same time. While this book isn’t technically a romance and the genre feels more like a horror fantasy set in space, I couldn’t resist putting it on the list. As Gideon says to Harrow, “One flesh, one end, bitch.”