Books like Voyage of the Damned — picked by fans

Although heists and team-driven stories are difficult to mess up, I rarely find a gem with fun, snarky, and interesting characters like those delivered by Bardugo.

Clever banter effortlessly drives the storyline from beginning to end. When you start to feel the characters are proving to be one-dimensional and predictable, they begin to change and evolve (albeit a bit slowly for my tastes), which made for a surprisingly satisfying read (I’m including book two in this observation).

Worldbuilding is intelligent enough to keep you trusting the author when you grow concerned that the ending will be unrealistically implausible. Okay, maybe that last observation is my personal pet peeve with modern authors, but Six of Crows pulled off the credibility factor reasonably well.

If you’re looking for the best-found family in the most stunning dragon book ever, look no further than the Den in this book, a queer Jamaican-inspired book about magic-wielders and dragon-riders defending their island from colonizers.

I cheered Elara, Faron, and the rest of the cast on as the book soared to thrilling heights and completely swept me away. I came for the world, magic, and dragons and stayed for the banter, found family, touching story of love and loss—and dragons. I firmly believe that this one will become a classic of YA fantasy.  

As a fan of epic fantasy, swoon-worthy romance, and political intrigue, I fell so hard for this book—and it’s the first in a series of four books, so there was more than enough to feed my desire for all the action.

The series follows Robin, a seemingly ordinary boy whose kidnapping leads him to discover that he’s anything but. His journey of self-discovery and self—acceptance truly spoke to me as a reader, and the kick-ass family he gathers around him along the way cemented the Realm of Fey series as one of my favorite found family fantasies.  

I was immediately enthralled by this queer Jewish-found fantasy book, pitched as Scorpio Races meets Peaky Blinders.

The daughter of a renowned family facing impending ruin teams up with a rogue enchanter and an ambitious heir to win a deadly horse race using forbidden magic.

As I read this book in a single sitting, my heart felt like I was the one running a race. I loved the entire gang, as well as the star of this particular found family—the cat. 

It’s a queer re-telling of The Gift of the Magi, both adorable and melodramatic—and I loved it! Yin and Ari celebrate their own space they’ve carved out with help from supportive friends and family and their own hard work, which fits Herrera’s Dreamers/refugee theme and is handled with trust, compassion, and love—but isn’t sugar-coated, either.

They’ve both got instincts and baggage around things falling apart or not working out and a hesitancy to think they can do enough for each other. This brilliantly written psychology leads to a series of good (yet terrible) choices. Watching them try to do something truly special for each other—even though they’re breaking their own rules for the gift exchange—had this wonderful bittersweet edge to it that ultimately ended on a note of joy I really loved, even if it got a little bumpy along the way.

The realistic queer characters facing the reality of a long-distance romance made me love this. It’s Country Mouse/City Mouse, with an argument over which place has the better Christmas, resulting in each spending time on the other's turf to decide. But unlike the usual Hallmark trope, no grinches exist here, quite the opposite.

Bex the doctor loves her life in the city, she's warm and welcoming, goes to the Nutcracker, and enjoys fine dining for the holidays. Similarly, Eva has friends, family, community, and major roots in Vermont—everything but love, really. Their careers and settled relationships matter, and permanent relocation is never really up for negotiation. If they're going to find a solution to their situation, it's going to involve compromise—and I loved that.

I’m a huge fan of queer re-tellings (as you can probably sense from this list) as well as lush, detailed historical fiction, and C.B. Lee delivers both in this vivid, adrenaline-spiking adventure. My favorite thing about this story is how Lee takes the bones of Treasure Island and reanimates them, bringing a new perspective to a classic by shifting the focus from traditional Western pirate narratives. Riding the waves with Xiang as she discovers her own identity and family history is an absolute delight, and seeing her relationship with Anh grow is a beautiful thrill. 

Allyson’s book is a collection of essays on the intersection of queerness, identity, and pop culture—horror primarily. Which means, yeah, it was practically engineered for me.

I found much to love and much to relate to within these pages. The way she weaves together personal experience, horror tropes, and urban legends is masterful, and I found the descriptions of gatekeeping and how it results in questioning one’s identity/place in things to hit rather personally.

This book has all the things I love about a swashbuckling fantasy–found family, romance, and magic. The art is gorgeous, the characters are loveable, and the world is bustling with excitement and danger at every turn.

I loved the One Piece vibes, and it’s so wonderful to see queerness just be there. I could not stop turning the pages. 

It’s hard to pick just one of Jim Colucci’s books to put on this list, but this one is probably my favorite. (He’s also written excellent books about The Golden Girls and Will & Grace, among other topics.)

It’s an incredible insider’s look at the making of one of the most important television programs ever made, with lots of original documents, interviews with creators, and insights that yield an even greater appreciation for this groundbreaking show.