Books like The Raven Boys — picked by fans

This is perhaps the best-known and most obvious choice illustrating Nature’s healing powers. Mary, an orphaned girl, moves in with an estranged, reclusive uncle on his isolated English estate. Lonely and bereaved, Mary spends her days exploring both the house and extensive gardens, when one day she discovers a secret garden, locked away behind a wall.

This garden, tucked away and neglected for many years, is the key to Mary’s healing. Through quiet deliberation, she begins to bring the garden back to life and, in turn, finds new life in herself. The healing of the uncle is perhaps the most mystical scene in the book for me, brought about by a quiet moment beside a trickling stream, where he has an epiphany of heart healing. I find the book’s mixture of nature and mystery beguiling.

I want to acknowledge right at the start that some troubling accusations have come to light about Neil Gaiman. I completely respect someone’s decision to avoid his books if that seems right to them. I struggle with the alleged actions of the author and find that I still love this novel.

For younger readers (and those who love books for younger readers), this novel introduces us to the tender side of the uncanny. A community of ghosts who raise an orphaned boy. A vampire and a werewolf who become his mentors and guardians. Once again, we are invited to see death as a natural part of life.

And, oh my gosh, is this novel funny! And charming, and lyrical, and beautiful.

David Charleston’s character resonated with me. He’s eccentric, passionate, and meticulous, while also being a great friend.

He’s also out for revenge against his father’s killer—A supervillain named Steelheart who has taken over Chicago. David unites with a secret group of people called the Reckoners who are trying to learn each villain's weakness to assassinate them.

David’s obsession with details is relatable, and against the terrifying powers of these supervillains, you're left on the edge of your seat hoping the Reckoner's schemes will be enough.

In this book, a sister and brother escape the horrors of suburban Connecticut and take refuge in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where they discover an art mystery that leads them to a wealthy surrogate grandmother. Beyond the iconic setting, this story has an irresistible only-in-New York feeling to it, so that you can’t help believing it all might have really happened, or still could happen.

Okay, technically, this is not a book. But it is the greatest work in the English language. When I do public speaking, I like to say my ” favorite mystery is Scandinavian.” Everyone nods. “There’s a questionable murder to begin, then a suicide, an attempted kidnapping, and a big fight when the two main characters die.” People nod again. “It’s called Hamlet. Have you ever heard of it?” And everyone laughs. 

I then ask the question: what is the difference between a mystery and a thriller? I believe in a mystery the protagonist is ahead of the reader. (Think classic detective novels such as The Big Sleep). But in a thriller, the audience is ahead of the protagonist. (Think a movie such as Wait Until Dark). In Hamlet, we have both. The first half is a mystery. Was his father really murdered? But in the crucial midpoint,… show more.

Now, I understand most people would consider Six of Crows a “heist book,” but can I just say… Inej is a goddess.

Her backstory is truly heartbreakingly powerful and has stuck with me even years after finishing. I loved this duology so much that I got my mother and two sisters to read it, and could rave about it for hours. 

As a kid, I was fascinated by the mysteries of ancient Egypt. My mother, an elementary school librarian, introduced me to this book when I was in the fifth grade — and I’ve loved it ever since. The story centers around April Hall, the daughter of a famous movie actress. When the girl goes to live with her grandmother, she and two neighbor kids amuse themselves by creating their own ancient Egyptian “society” based on a shared fascination with archaeology. They make costumes, devise rituals, and even choose a pharaoh to rule them. Their “Egypt” is located in the forgotten storage yard behind a creepy antique shop, but this secret world is threatened first by neighborhood bullies and later by a serial killer who’s stalking children.

This book is positively overflowing with witty banter. Hilarious witty banter between the love interests who won’t admit they’re madly in love and spectacular witty banter between the various sibling POVs we also get to read. My favorite character besides the FMC and MMC is Finn, a brother of one of the characters whose sense of humor is second to none. His undercover vigilante work, which his family misunderstood as laziness and lack of direction, made me respect and feel for him more, which balances out his apparent inability to take anything seriously well.

This book has the classic mutual pining I love so much and enjoy reading from both love interests’ perspectives, and the incredible sibling banter adds richness to the story I rarely find. This is my most recent read actually and I’m already running for the rest of the series right now!

I have always loved the central premise of the book, that a human being might never age, and yet a portrait of him ages as the years go by.

I love the way that Wilde used elegant and lyrical prose, always boosted by a flamboyant irony, in describing the dissolute life of an aesthete while putting it in the context of a philosophical pursuit of beauty and art. Dorian Gray himself is a deeply flawed moral character, and that is key to the success of the novel.  

This book is the equivalent of eating a batch of fresh chocolate chip cookies inside a drafty and most definitely haunted lighthouse on the Oregon coast as the waves crash against the shore and you pull your blanket a little tighter around you.

No one does atmosphere like Shea Earnshaw (No one, I said it) and this story of drowned girls off the Oregon coast will send a chill up your spine even as you’re reaching for your next cup of tea.