Books like The Crossing Places — picked by fans

Bruno (Benoît Courrèges) is a policeman who enjoys the slow pace of country life in the South of France.

He was formerly a soldier and relishes his peaceful daily routines of patrolling the lovely village of St. Denis, shopping for groceries, and cooking magnificent meals. Occasionally, bad guys show up, crimes of one kind or another disturb Bruno’s peace, and he must use his detective skills.

I especially love the care he puts into his wine pairings, no matter how many villains are on the loose.

As I indicated earlier, I am a Lee Child superfan. I’ve read all his original books. A thick (and expensive) biography. A long essay he wrote on heroism. All his short stories. You get the idea. So it was fun to re-read this book, his first.

It wasn’t what I remembered, that’s for sure! Yes, the action scenes are vivid and instructive (Child writes about the utility of a headbutt versus the risk of breaking your hand with a punch), and the action is what I remember most. But there’s more to this book than fights: there’s a major romance, which the author writes with gusto and in detail, heavy on feelings, not on private parts; the prose is better than solid, with imagery that really makes it come alive; and the story is plausible and tightly woven, with plenty of surprises. 

It starts with arguably the most famous first line any novelist has ever written, and I certainly couldn’t stop reading once I had absorbed that.

Rebecca is a classic for all sorts of great reasons. For me, the house is a character here. Manderley is as Gothic as I could ever wish for (and I LOVE Gothic).

Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper, is one of the most sinister characters ever written. When this novel was first published (1938), certain subjects were pretty much taboo. In the light of today's increased awareness of people’s differing sexualities, I think it’s probably easier to understand her motives – not that it makes her any less scary.

For me, this is a masterpiece of storytelling that defies genre categorization and puts du Maurier firmly in my top favourite authors list.

I love a woman who’s hard to love.

Tough, even prickly on the outside, but with hidden softness that leads her to unexpected places. She doesn’t know herself well and often stumbles over her own stubbornness…until she embraces vulnerability and accepts herself as she is.

That’s Agatha Raisin right down to the ground. Clearly intelligent, highly motivated, dedicatedly independent, strong to her core, yet when she strikes out on a new life path, she fumbles nearly everything and has to learn the hard way how to start over. 

There is humor in her journey, too, keeping things light even when murder and social discord show up. And, as with Ruth Galloway, tantalizing hints at an unlikely romance kept me coming back for more.

I laugh out loud at the awkward social situations Lady Georgina, 34th in succession to the throne of England, gets into.

Although she has been trained in all the proper graces, she is impoverished, and I find her creative, muddled attempts to figure out who murdered the body in her bathtub while meeting royal expectations endearing and amusing. I also enjoy glimpses into the mores of the royal family in 1930. 

I began reading Grimes in the 80s, but her books still hold up today, and this one establishes all of the cozy/Gothic things I love. Grimes has a gift for ironic humor, so even though she sets her books in a very cozy English village called Long Piddleton, she tends to satirize the residents and the narrow-mindedness of the provincial town.

In this way, she is similar to Agatha Christie, except that Grimes is much funnier. In this small town, Melrose Plant, a Lord by inheritance who has thrown off his title and tries to live a quiet life in the family manse, is a long-suffering, sane person in an often chaotic existence. He is continually terrorized by his “Aunt Agatha,” an American who married his uncle and refers to herself as “Lady Ardry,” although her late husband had no title. Their relationship is a source of great humor, but… show more.

The first line had me hooked: “It would be inaccurate to say that my childhood was normal before they came.”

That one sentence fired up my imagination, and the story kept me turning the pages late into the night. Libby, an adoptee, unexpectedly inherits a once-grand mansion in London’s Chelsea, only to discover it comes with a grim family history that’s nothing like the fanciful one she’d imagined.

I’m particularly drawn to novels like this one, with multiple narrators and intertwining timelines.

I love learning how people lived in other times via historical fiction, and Cadfael, a Benedictine monk who practiced healing arts in England in the 1100s, is one of my favorite characters.

I like hearing his opinions about the civil war that raged at that time and the church’s role in it. I like the fact that he’s a bit of a maverick who pushes beyond the bounds of his role as a monk to solve mysteries.  

Those who think of Agatha Christie as a “soft” crime writer need to look at her books again. She qualified as a pharmacist during WWI, and she made good use of her knowledge of poisons in her novels. Cyanide was her most often used poison choice, but I like The Pale Horse because it’s one of the rare—and accurate—appearances of thallium in a mystery novel. Christie’s writing made my discoveries about North Carolina’s serial female serial poisoners even more intriguing.

I love this book for many reasons—its rural Southern setting, its lawyer/judge protagonist Deborah Knott, its twisty mystery. But I was particularly intrigued when author Margaret Maron told me that the spark for the book was a real unsolved murder near her North Carolina home. I wrote about the real case when it was finally solved in Triangle True Crime, but Margaret’s version of what might have happened is so much more interesting.