74 Books Like The Vampire Tapestry

I admit. I stalked Quinn at Dragon Con. It took me all day to finally summon the courage to approach her and fangirl out. It was after a panel, and no one else was waiting to talk to her.

A most prolific, brilliant, and underrated author, her Saint-Germain series is astounding and profoundly impacted and inspired me. Her main character is faced against impossible odds, which he resolutely and astutely conquers each time while protecting those he holds dear.

The books’ settings move through the sands of time and across continents, all uniquely accurate. Her PhD in history sings through these historical fiction books (hundreds of them) that don’t quite fit into any one genre. She created her own—a literary goddess.

If there was one criticism I had of Interview With The Vampire, it was that there wasn’t enough Lestat. I can’t have been the only one because when Anne Rice decided to do a sequel, she didn’t keep following Louis, the tortured hero of the first book, but instead told us the story of his Maker.

I love that this book doesn’t try to repeat what the first part did and tell us another story of a vampire at odds with what he is. Lestat embraces the (after)life that is forced upon him. I admire the purity of his acceptance of what he is and having no regrets about what he must do to survive.

Bloodshot is a mystery thriller that tells the story of a vampire thief named Raylene Pendle who is hired by a blind vampire to find and steal records that'll help a doctor restore his sight. The idea that the military would find vampires interesting has always seemed natural and Raylene soon finds herself in a world of military secrets. Although Raylene is a vampire, she cares for the people in her life, particularly the two homeless, human children who have taken up residence in her Seattle lair. Although Raylene is strong and smart, she can be hurt, especially by soldiers who are used to containing vampires. I loved that she needed to use her wits to solve the mystery she's presented.

In this Japanese light novel, vampires are an oppressed people living in a country adjoining a Soviet Union-like country, the Republic of Zirnitra. In this world, almost all of the stories you've heard about vampires being evil and hunting humans are Zirnitran propaganda, but vampires do drink blood and are sensitive to sunlight. Irina is a young vampire woman who volunteers to be a test subject for the Zirnitran space program so she can get closer to the moon, which she loves. The story is based on the real Soviet space program of the 1960s and I rooted for Irina as she overcame her own fears and Zirnitran oppression to fly in orbit and see her beloved moon up close before any human went into orbit.

A story about evil puppets? Sign me up! Oddity is a town only the Addams Family could love, with weird, strange, unusual, and downright wrong things taking place at all hours of the day and night. What I love about this book is the way it manages to give us an entire town of spookiness, and yet still find a plot that is even more spooky. The characters are unforgettable, and the villains are a joyous wonder.

This small-town mystery is the first in a new series. Set in Madeira, New Mexico, newly arrived Tami Montgomery learns the old Victorian home she and her husband purchased has an unsettling history—a number of Madeira’s police chiefs lived in the property, and most met with untimely deaths. Tami’s husband, Jason, is Madeira’s new police chief. 

A former newspaper editor, Tami becomes involved with Madeira’s historical society, a commitment that has her digging into her home’s past and the lives of the people who lived there. Hall weaves elements from the 1800s with the present, sprinkling her plot with lunar legends, dusty history, old grudges, and murder. Though the first in a series, Cold Dark Night delivers a complete story with a satisfying ending.

This is a nonfiction book and typical of New Mexico, as there are whole chapters of its history nobody really knows about. The (probably) first white American woman to come into the territory was a Jewish woman who accompanied her merchant husband and brothers. Even more interesting, merchants and traders weren’t even the first Jewish people - “Crypto-Jews” who were fleeing the inquisition came to New Mexico long before it was part of the US and kept their identity secret to assimilate. This is depicted with a character in Alburquerque and that perfectly encapsulates one of the overriding things about New Mexico and its tales – a deep sense of connectedness, across people, across the land. 

The Sea of Grass is a short novel, standard in length for the time in which it was published (1936), close in time to other short classics such as The Grapes of Wrath and The Postman Always Rings Twice. It is written in first person, and in some respects, it suggests the influence of The Great Gatsby, another short masterpiece some ten years earlier, with an observer narrator, an elegiac tone, an evocative prose style, and interesting figurative language. This novel, like many, draws upon the range war (nesters versus the cattle empire) for its premise, but it becomes a very interesting exploration of human nature and the inevitable passing of time. 

Bill Gastner is the sort of detective you’d expect to find working the mean streets of an inner city: a rumpled overweight insomniac addicted to coffee and cigarettes. Instead his beat is the Chihuahan Desert of a fictitious county on the border between New and Old Mexico. In Heartshot, Undersheriff Gastner must solve multiple murders related to the illegal drug trade, including the loss of a fellow officer. The killer turns out to be somebody nearly as surprising and dangerous as the place where Gastner finds him. In his first book in the Posadas County series, author Havill skillfully brings to life both the rewards and challenges of life in a harsh yet beautiful place, where the people of two cultures are trying to figure out ways to live with one another.

One of my permanent, permanent favorites. Cather’s novel about a pair of French Catholic missionaries in 19th-century New Mexico is a lot of things: a portrait of a complex and life-giving friendship, a “loveship,” if I can borrow from Alice Munro.

It’s also an immersive historical treatment of Catholic proselytizing in the Southwest and a lyric poem about the beauty of that land. It’s smart about the rigors and consolations and the inevitable condescension of missionary work. It’s smart about everything. A perfect book.