Books like The Change — picked by fans

I have a sister—a twin, actually—and I would do anything for her.

But if she murdered someone… would I cover it up? I couldn’t stop asking myself that while reading this, even as I found myself laughing at how effortlessly funny it is. Ayoola’s total indifference is what hooked me—she doesn’t question herself, doesn’t spiral, she just acts, and there’s something unsettlingly magnetic about that.

And Korede, fully aware and still complicit, pushed me to think about how far love can stretch before it turns into something else entirely. It’s bright, biting, and way more layered than it first appears, and I couldn’t get enough of that tension between devotion and control.

I don’t think I’ve ever read a character who knows exactly what she’s doing—and refuses to apologize for any of it.

I loved how controlled this felt from the very first page, like I was being walked step-by-step through a plan that was always going to go too far. There’s no spiraling, no second-guessing, no need to justify—just intention. And I found that weirdly addictive.

I kept waiting for a crack, some moment of doubt, and it never really came, which made it even more unsettling. This is one of those books where I didn’t relate to the main character at all, but I couldn’t look away from how calmly she takes control of everything around her. It’s sharp, it’s a little chilling, and I loved every second of that unapologetic energy.

Usually, this isn’t my kind of thriller.

I struggle with passive heroines, and Claire drove me a little crazy at first—so removed, so unaware, so unwilling to look too closely. But I stuck with it, and I’m so glad I did.

I loved Lydia immediately (that first scene alone told me exactly what kind of energy she was bringing), and I enjoyed how the story shifts into something that belongs to the sisters, not the man at the center of it.

What really worked for me is the turn—when Claire stops drifting and starts choosing, and the two of them finally align. From there, it gets visceral and messy in the best way. I ended up loving it for that transformation: for the moment control is taken, not given.

I loved how quickly this strips away the illusion of safety—Nico disappears early, and suddenly so much rests on Lyla.

What pulled me in is how fast she’s pushed from uncertainty into action, forced to think, adapt, and make decisions under pressure. I’m always drawn to characters who don’t start out obviously strong, and I really felt that shift in Lyla as she stops hesitating and starts taking control.

I especially liked how survival isn’t just about her; it’s about who she trusts, who she chooses to help, and how far she’s willing to go when things spiral. It’s tense, a little brutal, and incredibly satisfying to watch her (and the other women) step up when it matters most.

Mistaken identity, a deadly game, and confusing desires make for a fun read. This book was one of my instant favourites because of its sassy style and the female main character psycho-analysing the people around her because of her studies in psychology.

Rowan is determined to find her mother’s killer, but her plan falls apart when a demon kidnaps her and accuses her of being someone else.

I love the way she plays two roles as herself and her shadow self and how she uses that to play games with Orion, who may or may not want to kill her. It makes for a unique character and a very interesting story.

I’ve always been a sucker for a good curse to thicken a cozy mystery plot, and this one has a doozy: a stunning Russian shawl worn by a fortune-teller at a bridal shower that Washington, D.C. fashion reporter Lacey Smithsonian attends for her BFF Stella. I love the plucky amateur sleuth who uses her Extra-Fashionary Perception to capture a villain who vowed that nobody at this wedding will live happily ever after.

Agent of the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments, and Supernatural Entities, Fatma el-Sha'arawi is the spectacularly well-dressed protagonist tasked with saving the world (again) in an alternate 1912 Cairo. This award-winning novel awed me with its detail and invention. What I loved most was the way the world building relegated the British Empire to relative unimportance. Come to think of it, I loved the Ministry library almost as much.

In the world of crime, the “two-minute rule” is sacrosanct: linger longer than two minutes during a heist, and you’re destined for a lifetime behind bars. But not everyone plays by the rules. When ex-con Max Holman is released from prison, his thoughts are consumed by the hope of reconciling with his estranged son, a police officer.

Tragically, he learns that his son and three fellow LAPD officers were brutally murdered the night before his release. Crais’s storytelling prowess shines through in this tightly plotted psychological thriller, where every page is essential. The plot is both inventive and realistic, with richly drawn characters that resonate. New writers can learn from his presentation of setting, characterization, as well as crisp plotting. I admit that I unabashedly love Robert Crais’ serial work, but this stand-alone resonated with me from the moment I read it.

I’m going even further back with this one. Unusual pick certainly, a YA novel from 1989 that I stole off my sister’s shelf circa 1994.

I was ten and ready for something darker than The Baby-Sitters Club. This was one of those early reads that made me want to write in the first place. The first real suspense book that had me staying up late, wondering how does one create a story like this? I still have that book, tattered and sitting on my shelf as a reminder of that first spark.

Christopher Pike is able to write stories to young readers in a timeless way. The nostalgia and sheer thrill from this story about a young woman who finds herself dead after falling four stories will bring you back to nights with covers over your head. Did she jump or was something more sinister behind her death? Only her… show more.

James Lee Burke is now 85 as of the date of this submission and writes every day. As I just turned 76 this month, his remarkable work habits are a goal to which I can aspire. 

James Lee Burke’s writing is filled with memorable metaphors and similes that no one uses quite as well as this Southern man of letters

In Robicheaux: A Novel, Burke reminds us that Robicheaux is plagued by the acts he committed in Vietnam, now manifested in the ghosts of his alcoholism and tendency to violence. Complicating his life even more is the sudden death of his beloved wife, Molly. The New Iberia man who killed Molly is also killed, and colleagues accuse Robicheaux of murdering the man who killed Molly.

Dave Robicheaux is a good man who does not tolerate evil deeds by others, even though he must battle his tendency to react violently when… show more.