Books like The Scold's Bridle — picked by fans

It’s rare these days for me to be so completely absorbed by a book that I only stop reading when I can’t keep my eyes open any longer.

This is 1970s Britain, an era I grew up in, the descriptions and atmosphere absolutely authentic. But the real grip was the subject matter. The storyline, expertly handled, was original and mesmerising, with twins Abi and Tim – spookily worldly-wise teens with a paranormal obsession – conjuring a fake ghost photograph to play a trick on gullible schoolmate, Janice Tupps.

The prank, however, rebounds shockingly, horrifically... This is both insightful and unnerving work. The author knows his stuff. Another rarity – Maclean writes for the reader, draws you right in. Loved it.

I was in between two consecutive house moves and with all my cases packed around me, really needed something absorbing to distract from the stress. A tough call. Grisham did the job, though.

He’s a master storyteller, and this had a blinder of a hook right at the start. Ray Atlee is a law teacher in Virginia when he gets a call from his father, a judge, to return home. But he doesn’t get there in time – the judge has died already, and in suspicious circumstances. Ray subsequently picks up a trail of dangerous secrets, his father was not the man he thought he was.

I loved this because it’s fast paced, intriguing, and Grisham’s style is both intelligent and immersing. Also learned about Cesna planes and the deep American South! 

I fell deeply in love with Unsworth’s prose style and the striking use of “the play’s the thing” twist as Nicholas Barber and his travelling troupe try to solve a mystery.

As a medievalist, I was impressed with the depth of research that went into the production of the work. Nicholas is a wonderfully flawed character, and I found myself cheering as he left his tedious role to join the troupe.

I always enjoy Unsworth’s work because the plot, while tight and well-focused, is really an excuse to examine social issues and group dynamics.

This is another book I come back to again and again. 

I have always loved the lais of Marie de France and have taught them for years, introducing students to her proto-feminism and sly humor (check out Lanval for a send-up of the conventional medieval romance).

So when I came across this novel, I snapped it up, and it didn’t disappoint. I was captivated by Groff’s depiction of Marie: a rebel against religion and conventional gender roles, an exile in a convent who becomes the hero and hones her craft of writing.

Groff swept me into the book with her luminous descriptions of atmospheres and landscapes. I loved the gawky and ungainly Marie’s lonely fascination with Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine and the way she turns heartbreak into art. 

I was immediately caught by the novel’s premise: a medical examiner mystery set in the Middle Ages!

When King Henry I faces threats to the Jews under his protection because of a spate of murders of young children, he sends to Italy for a “master of the art of death,” only to receive Adelia, a woman. I was enchanted by Adelia’s courage, intelligence and wry humor as she searched for the killer.

I wallowed in the lush description, the tight plot, and the often contentious exchanges between Henry and Adelia. The final confrontation with the killer has all the stark graphic horror of a well-constructed film, and the fate of the killer’s accomplice is a masterpiece of terrible justice.

I do want to warn you, though; once you finish reading this, you’ll want to binge every following text in the series!

This is a book I come back to again and again, each time finding new elements to marvel at!

The Black Death has struck, and Lady Anne of Develish must keep her people safe while negotiating stormy relationships with her daughter and a conniving steward. I cannot love Lady Anne enough: she is ruthlessly intelligent, compassionate, and committed to social justice, helping her serfs to gain independence. 

I was struck by the harrowing descriptions of the Black Death and the complexity of even minor characters. I was on the edge of my seat with each page. As a medievalist, I appreciated the concern for historical accuracy.

This is a book of heartbreak and hope. 

I have published several articles on medievalism (the use of the Middle Ages in popular culture) and have taught Robin Hood texts for years, so I grabbed this as soon as it became available.

I was enthralled by the character of Jane Crowe, a quiet peasant girl who becomes a spy for Robin Hood. I also appreciated the way that this Robin Hood harks back to the more brutal figure found in early Robin Hood texts from the Middle Ages; this is not the altruistic Robin Hood of later medievalist texts, and the novel is the better for it.

I greatly admire the way Kaufman sets up the sexual tension between Jane and Robin against Jane’s increasing disillusionment upon gaining more experience with Robin’s character.