96 Books Like The Man in the Picture

Alright, this one isn’t a Regency, and it’s not technically a romance, but it is a love story. It’s set during the Restoration period, so it’s much earlier, but it showcases how a love story can also be an adventure story and a journey of self-discovery.

The heroine, Lady Dona St. Columb, retreats to her estate in Cornwall only to find that a pirate is using her cove as a secret hideaway and her house as his own retreat. They set out on a madcap adventure and fall in love until her husband arrives and attempts to capture her lover, forcing Dona to choose between the life she has and the life she wants.

This is one of my favorite stories because the themes in it are timeless—who among us has not grappled with the same dilemma in the 21st century? I think that makes a book strong—regardless of time… show more.

I love the central female character in this book, Cora Seaborne, who can swing between admirable and ridiculous over the course of a page. I love the dark atmosphere created by the marshes of the Blackwater, where Cora is determined to find evidence of a mysterious creature presumed by locals to be malevolent.

The estuary is a menacing presence in reality (people and animals are sucked in and lost in times of bad weather) and in the imaginations of the villagers. I also love the way that this provides a backdrop for various tumults of the soul experienced by the characters as Cora crashes into the settled lives of a local minister and his family, wreaking accidental havoc.

This collection of short detective stories features Sayers’ most famous sleuth Lord Peter Whimsey, but also the lesser-known Montague Egg. Sayers was a marketing professional, and this comes out in the Egg stories, about a travelling salesman who gets involved in mysteries, the police allowing him to do so partly because of his quirky and unassuming personality. Egg frequently quotes useful maxims from his favourite book The Salesman’s Handbook, thinking laterally to solve puzzles that elude formal detectives. This book has no supernatural aspect but is included here as the idea of a ‘detective that is not a detective’ always intrigued me. I chose this device for my (very different to Egg) detective protagonist Jack Sangster, partly as a result of reading In the Teeth of the Evidence.  

One of a series that can be read in any order. I found this spine-chilling as it is so easy to put yourself in the place of the characters. I could feel, and live, their fear and desperation. This is not a ghost story. I found it easy to imagine a group of ne’re do wells indulging in these rituals and bringing terror to themselves and others. Not a book I could put down.

If ever there was a perfect ghost story, this is it. Gothic with atmospheric language and vivid scenes that still haunt me. I suppose this could have been written by Jane Austen because of its nightmarish ghostliness on the English moors. So masterfully done—the wreaths of moving fog and haunted cries.

I love the unknown fear of it all. Susan Hill is highly skilled in making ghosts present on the page: the eerie sound of the rocking chair in the old nursery is a spine-tingler, albeit a cliché. Written in a sublime fashion, it fits the “quiet horror” genre. Quiet horror is so savory to me because it digs into the imagination with shadowy phantoms without slamming the reader viscerally. I love that kind of artful creation.

Tracy Chevalier edited this incredible anthology of short fiction to mark the bicentenary of Charlotte Brontë’s birth. Comprising contributions from sixteen authors, including Helen Dunmore, Sally Vickers, Susan Hill, Emma Donoghue, and Audrey Niffenegger, among others, these incredible stories are far more than fan fiction. Indeed, while the anthology’s title is the infamous first line of the final chapter of Charlotte Brontë’s novel, don’t be fooled into thinking that this is a romantic collection, for Chevalier’s contributors may take inspiration from Jane Eyre, but they rework it in a huge variety of ways, producing stories that unsettle as much as they celebrate Brontë’s novel. And if you like that, the companion volume, I Am Heathcliff edited by Kate Mosse, operates in the same spirit but is dedicated to Wuthering Heights.

I have a soft (tender, bruised) spot for stories exploring childhood bullying, and Susan Hill’s I’m the King of the Castle is one of the best. I also love big creaky old houses, and here we have Warings, a big creaky Victorian house inherited by Joseph Hooper, who moves in with his son, Edmund. Joseph, a widower, brings into the household a housekeeper-cum-companion and her son, Charles Kingshaw. Edmund does not want to share ‘his’ house and lets Charles know he’s unwelcome, but the grown-ups insist that the boys, both ten years old, will be friends, and go on insisting that they are friends even as Edmund is persecuting Charles, making his life a misery. It’s a claustrophobic and compelling novel and the final lines are brilliant and memorably harrowing.

Edith Pearlman is a gem. These 20 beautifully written and fascinating short stories delve into the moments that matter most in everyday life. Read them one at a time or all together like a mosaic for modern women. Pearlman’s characters – men women and children – are all unique, and also extraordinary, in their way, and all mirror our own realities. Across the globe and across time, her tales are so true and so wise, I love reading them again and again, especially when I have little time and need a touch of literary magic.  

No writer evokes atmosphere better than Daphne Du Maurier, and this collection of five short stories demonstrates her gifts superbly. Best known of these short stories is "Don’t Look Now," a tale of bereavement and despair with a wicked twist at the end, set in Venice and subsequently made into a superb horror movie. But the other stories within this anthology also immerse the reader in their settings, with each delivering an unexpected twist. 

Speaking of movies, as I’m afraid I often am, it’s not just the novels of Daphne du Maurier (like Rebecca) that have made great films; her short stories have inspired them, too. And they’re weirder and darker than her full-length works.

Don’t Look Now and Other Stories is a recent collection curated by Patrick McGrath, another excellent horror-adjacent author. It features the title story, source of Nicolas Roeg’s famously frightening 1973 film, and “The Birds,” on which Hitchcock based his notoriously gory (for 1963) film.

While the movies are swell, these brief, insidious, and ambiguous tales can make them seem a little lumbering and obvious by comparison.