100 books like Blood Numbers

When I first started reading romance, I read nothing but historical. But then, I got bored with it because it all felt the same. That changed when I read this book. It was kinky and filthy, and still had that amazing historical romance mannerisms that I love and crave. I didn’t know books could be like this. I was smitten. Because of her, I fell back in love with historical romances.

Nicolina Martin is an excellent indie author who hits all the genres I love with this book: post-apocalyptic/dystopian, romantic suspense, dark romance, action. I love this book because the characters are well-developed and interesting, the world-building is excellent, and the story is engrossing. This book pulls you in with its drama and storytelling and the reader is left more than satisfied by the happily-ever-after romance. 

A dystopian novella that seems confusing at first but makes sense as you continue along. It requires piecing together broken memories, broken friendships, and flashes of emotion that are rarely understood. Each glimpse lasts only eight minutes and thirty-two seconds. It’s quite an incredible feat of storytelling. I read this in one sitting with the sun setting outside and me barely even noticing that time existed. I was fortunate enough to know and work alongside Salomon before his recent passing and this was a book I was privileged to provide a blurb for. I was blown away by the story that unraveled before me. I promise you will be too. 

There isn’t another horror novel written in the past ten years that scratched at my brain as much as this one. Baztericca’s brilliance lies in her writing a story that no one else has thought of before. The subject matter–humans have run out of animals to eat–seems like an obvious one.

What is striking about the book is that it is told in an almost clinical fashion, observing horror with a detachment that is precise and unemotional. The plot follows one man through the routines of his life, but it’s the world in which he exists that haunts you. By the time I finished, it was easy to imagine the world of “Tender Is The Flesh” becoming all too real.

Do not read this series if you have Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). 

Coral is on vacation when her world lights up. It starts with a fire so intense that the ash entirely blocks out the sun, not for a season, but for years. The sky is perpetually grey, and her world goes seriously cold. She must survive the elements, but the real threat comes from the desperation of those left alive and fighting for their lives. This is a brutal world. 

As a paranoid survivalist, this book had me taking notes. Some books you read and forget, others teach you something. Most authors push a moral agenda, but this book teaches real-life skills, like how it’s a good idea to burrow into snow when it’s REALLY cold, or why hanging out in caves isn’t just for Neanderthals, and my personal favourite, how to spot a cannibal. 

Some dystopian books show futures that aren’t relatable or believable at all. The whole story is a great mix of genres – not just dystopian but also sci-fi, thriller, and it reads like a crime novel with mobsters.  The reachers themselves are telepathic/telekinetic and add a unique dimension to a story that otherwise could fit in with a non-fantasy setting. The world-building in this book is so effective exactly because it feels real. I was sucked in and sympathetic toward the reachers because you can easily put many different peoples in their place today, and the political and social aspects of the story feel frighteningly possible.

This is a monster mm romance in a dystopian setting with a human soldier who hates the monsters that breached into the human world.

When faced with the enemy, the soldier learns that the monsters are not what they seem.

I love this one because the monsters aren’t all good, but neither are they the evil the world thinks. The lines are blurred, and I think it works. 

It’s a dystopian YA novel where the Australian landscape is beautifully rendered in all its glory and danger. It’s also a tightly written and intense page turner, when even quiet moments are infused with a sense of menace.

It has echoes of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, although this book is unmistakably Australian - right down to speculation around where our nation’s attitude to asylum seeks may lead us. It’s not as bleak as The Road (a book I admire), but Mark reminds us how easily our veneer of society could slip away in the wake of a catastrophic, world-changing event.

I did worry for Finn’s dog as much as for Finn himself. (I’m still scarred by The Knife of Never Letting Go. This has parallels to that nail-biting novel, too.)

A different kind of hero. Cerebral and self-contained. Eisenhorn is an Inquisitor who maneuvers within the system and operates within his own complex reality, fighting a never-ending war against all aspects of Chaos. He finds allies in impossible places and uses them to his advantage. Part mystery, part adventure, and expertly crafted to portray the darkest of futures, it is the quintessential dystopian science fantasy. While some may question the rigid morality of the future day, Eisenhorn chooses results over dogma, choosing the lesser of two evils. I learned that characters must choose their own reality, adapting to the dystopia in which they reside. It’s a compelling human trait that transcends any universe.  

I have always been fascinated by Russian authors because of their command of presenting human nature and its fears. I picked up this book because the author is from Russia.

Yevgeny wrote this novel at the height of the  Russian Revolution in the aftermath of the First World War. He projected a society in a distant future, fearing that complete control of the state would turn us into monotonous machines. Anyone daring to be different would be eliminated to ensure compliance and similarity.

My only reservation is that the book borders on science fiction rather than historical fiction.