100 Books Like The Soldier's Scoundrel

In research for my own books, I have learned how present the British were in the Caribbean for centuries.

Yet it is not often that I find Caribbean characters when reading historical romances. That is one of the reasons I was so excited to pick up A Caribbean Heiress in Paris – and I was not disappointed!

In this novel, you get a heroine who is trying to defend her identity on three fronts: as a businesswoman, as a mixed-race woman, and as a woman who does not want marriage to be the solution to her problems.

Much of the hero’s growth is discovering how to witness and learn about Luz Alana’s challenges without barging in and “solving” them.

This is a great read with a delightful plot, new insight into Caribbean-European history, and an endearing romance. 

When I want a historical romance that knows exactly what it is and how to hit the right notes with each of its tropes, I turn to Erica Ridley.

Take the opening conceit of The Perks of Loving a Wallflower: It felt so familiar to read about a shy heroine who has a secret group of bluestocking friends and who is trying to avoid her parents’ matchmaking schemes.

From there, however, Ridley uses the conceit of a missing cipher to match Philippa with Tommy, a master of disguises and rejecter of labels.

Through a very fun, comforting historical romance plot, we get to explore gender roles, identity, and class snobbery.  

When I pick up a Courtney Milan historical romance, I know I will be hit in the heart with a story that is as insightful as it is moving.

The only question was which of her books to include in this list!

I chose The Duke Who Didn’t because it explores class, race, and gender roles in the delightful setting of a small town in the English countryside hosting an annual sports festival.

The plot reckons with the aristocrat’s responsibility to his people, the challenges and joys of a working-class community, and the exploitation of non-British identities for profit.

And because it is a Courtney Milan novel, it does so with plenty of clever tropes and swoon-worthy romance!

True Pretenses is a novel that took me by surprise.

The hero, Ash, is a Jewish man hiding his identity because of personal experience with violent antisemitism. Lydia is a well-meaning aristocrat who is more than a little out of touch with the rest of society.

Since Ash is a con man, there are some fun capers and misunderstandings – even more so once Lydia embraces him for who he is. For anyone looking for a tender historical romance that opens your eyes to a fresh slice of history – namely, Judaism in 19th century England – this is a book you can’t miss. 

I love stories about outcasts, persistent f*ck-ups, people who’ve been told a story about themselves their whole lives that somewhere along the line they started to believe. I love when they find someone who’s been told a similar story, and they help each other to not believe in those stories anymore. 

This book was one of the first male/male romance novels I ever read.

I loved how the author took an interracial gay love story set in the early 1800s and made it believable and sweet without glossing over the harsh realities of the time. The romance follows the trope of “opposites attract” between a disgraced English gentleman and a Black former boxer who runs a pub.

The two characters complimented each other well, and altogether I was worried they could never truly have happily-ever-after in Regency England, the author found a wonderful way to make sure they did.

The book delves into concepts like found-family, healing from sexual trauma, classism, racism, consent, and boundaries—a wonderful, uplifting escape into history.

In a list about zombie apocalypse references, this is definitely a quirky entry. But it is important for all writers to read outside of their genre, or they run the risk of becoming generic. 

Far more important than the story’s backdrop is the story’s focus. People predominantly care and read about people.

Whether that means writing about people resisting zombies, as is the case with most zombie stories, or writing about zombies doing their best to become human—as seen in Elantris and The Girl With All The Gifts—writers need to know how to tell stories about people.

I don’t write books about zombies, I write books about families. And there is probably no more famous family right now than the Bridgertons (though if I had one more recommendation, it would definitely be Swiss Family Robinson).

By reading books about strong families, I’m better able to translate my own… show more.

This is another book with a very relatable main character. I’ve been in Dom’s shoes, trying to navigate complicated friendships while also dealing with my own life struggles and insecurities.

Being able to connect with the main character so deeply made the payoff at the end incredibly satisfying. And his love interest, Bucky, was truly swoon-worthy. 

The stars of this book are “solitaries,” people who choose to live alone or spend substantial stretches of time alone. Upending the demeaning caricatures of people who spend a lot of time alone, Johson shows that some of the most renowned artists and authors have been solitaries.

They have rich inner lives and contribute meaningfully to society. Even unknown solitaries are artists–they design their own lives. Solitaries value friendship and do not see romantic relationships as sitting atop a relationship hierarchy. Free of a conventional focus on The One, they are more open to more different people and the world.

“Someone has to ask you a question before you can answer it. But it’s so seldom you find anyone who’ll ask the right questions. Most people aren’t that much interested.…”

I love this book because it shines a spotlight on loneliness and isolation in a way that most books really struggle to do. It provides you with a sense of what it is to be an outsider. I love this because it balances the melancholy with warmth and hope so so well.