87 Books Like Witchcraft for Wayward Girls

I couldn't put this book down, and I stayed haunted by the ordinary people of the town long after the last page.

What unsettled me most was the chilling reality of what people tolerate to preserve an appearance of peace. I have always been more frightened by the way a community polices its own silence while rot spreads beneath the floorboards. It forced me to see how denial is more dangerous than any haunting because it protects power instead of truth.

This story remains a low hum in my bones, proving the real horror is how easily we turn on each other.

This was the book that made me realize horror could terrify in a way that felt entirely familiar.

I read it when the cruelty of school was still a raw wound because I understood exactly how laughter is used to flatten a person until they start to disappear. It wasn’t the supernatural elements that stayed with me, but the profound loneliness of a girl shamed into a silence that eventually caught fire.

I finished it with the understanding that a "final snap" is never an accident, but the inevitable result of humiliation accumulating like a slow-burning medicine. King showed me that even the most quiet, discarded person carries a power that the world should be afraid of.

Reading Slewfoot felt like being trapped in a suffocating room where every voice insists you are the problem.

It chillingly reminded me of awkward Sunday lunches with conservative relatives, those moments when you realize following the rules is a failing shield against a community built like a fortress. I felt a deep kinship with the desperation of trying to do everything right, only to be cast aside anyway.

What moved me most was the shift from endurance to a fierce, wild defiance because an alliance with the "monstrous" felt less like a descent and more like a homecoming. It reinforced my belief that embracing your own shadow isn’t an act of evil, but the only way to stay whole in a world that wants to erase you.

This story felt like a heavy conversation with long-dead relatives because it captures how ancestral memory is both a gift and a haunting.

I connected with the idea that our blood carries stories we didn’t ask for but are forced to finish. It reminded me that the "magic" we inherit is never simple because it demands we look at the parts of our history that others would rather keep buried in the smoke.

I loved how it treated magic as something visceral and ancient, a bond reaching through time to guard the present when everyone else has turned their backs.

I absolutely cannot spoil what might be the greatest twist in genre lit, so you’re just going to have to take my word on this one.

Lee was a master of character-driven plots and this one starts with an oldie but goodie trope: the character who wakes up with amnesia and has to explore a whole world to find herself. Our heroine has no name and no face—she always wears a mask—but the mystery of why she does so will keep your turning page after page.

If the title alone doesn’t make you want to read this book, you need to ask what happened to your sense of wonder. Don’t worry, though, because this novel will bring it back from the dead.

It doesn’t take much beyond the term “sapphic witches” to get me really excited about a book. Additionally, we’ve got elemental magic, blood rituals, and the store in Salem where the main character works is called the “Fly by Night Cauldron” and I was completely sold. This is a light, fun read that I thoroughly enjoyed. I was drawn in by the conflict, not only with the main villain, but a tense history with an ex, and a potential new romance. I really enjoy finding fantasy books where the queerness of the character is not an “issue” or questioned at all. It was something I badly needed as a teen, and it's a relief to be finally getting this kind of thing in literature. I wish I could send it to my younger self!

I found the magic system to be delightful as well, with the elemental powers reminding me… show more.

The Sweep series was one of the first witch series I ever read, and I promise you that it is still so, so good. Plus, there are 15 books to provide hours of entertainment. The story is very Wicca-based with well-described details of rituals and rites that will immerse you in each scene. I was immediately drawn to the main character, Morgan, and her struggles as she learns of her powers. The characters engage in familiar teenage drama, but everything is heightened by the magic they’re immersed in. Suspenseful, fast-paced, and just a little bit dangerous. 

I love how much Mercy learns about herself. I also really admire the time and space and, above all, respect Briggs's investments in Mercy's witting and unwitting explorations of her powers and heritage. And how Mercy reacts to revelations about her mother and mostly unknown father. I, at least, admire when Mercy is allowed to get cranky and try to pick and choose what she wants to keep or discard, approve or disapprove.

All this, and it's a heck of a roller coaster ride. I rode the slow build-up, increasingly bracing myself for the first big drop, and then whoop-whoop-whoop, I whirled up and down and sideways to the end.

I’m a sucker for a vigilante story. I’ve watched just about all of the Batman and Robin Hood adaptations.

Add superpowers and a war between angels and demons beyond the veil of mortal sight, and I’m hooked. That’s exactly what I was with Cloak of the Light.

I devoured this book and immediately ordered and finished the rest of the series. Chuck Black knows how to weave a good story, and this one does a fantastic job of intersecting two stories from vastly different points of view. This book came to me at a time when I needed encouragement, and it gave me just that. I can’t remember reading a series so quickly, but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

This book will have you rooting for the main character and thinking about how easily we can fall prey to the influence of evil in our world.  

As shocking as I felt Kubrick’s film was, I think the book is possibly more startling. Some scenes Kubrick played for laughs are described as violent and sadistic in the novel. If, like me, you are a fan of the film, it’ll fill in some blanks for you. Ever wonder why Alex and his friends drink milk?

The book is written in futuristic teen-speak that did take me a while to get my head around, but this ultimately adds to the strangeness of the insular world these ‘droogs’ inhabit. Though it was first published in 1962, I think this is still a very relevant and unflinching look at the place of violence in society.