100 books like Johannes Cabal the Necromancer

Here is yet another book where at first it seems as though there are no heroes.

Abercrombie writes a masterful world filled with magic, politics, swordfights, and bleak attitudes. One of the main POV characters is a torturer—I mean a full-on break your toes and laugh about it torturer—but even still, I found myself wanting more of his story. He’s certainly not a hero, but he was at one point, and that’s even more intriguing.

The characters drive this fantasy series, but the world is also a gorgeous setting that Abercrombie clearly spent many long nights thinking through. Every detail feels like it matters, and throughout this trilogy, the smallest specks of plot come back to matter.

On top of it all, I loved the audiobook narrator and his particular performances for each character brought the world to life.

Gideon the Ninth lit up the sky of the science fiction/fantasy world when it was published, launching the Locked Tomb series (which is ongoing, and great; third volume Nona the Ninth is especially lovely).

It's been described as "lesbian necromancers in space" but it's more "lesbian necromancer and swordsperson on various weird planets in the far future with a god-emperor who uses death magic to fight planet-sized spectral monsters...." for a start.

The whole series is enigmatic, complex, and laced through with humor, action, and yearning, but the first book is notable for the power of Gideon's voice.

Stephen King’s Dark Tower series might be uneven at the end, but the beginning is masterful.

Roland, a dusty old cowboy on the edge of reality, is the prototypical antihero. He doesn’t care much for other people, he’s got a dark past, and I wanted to follow every dusty step of his journey. The broken pieces of Roland are what make The Dark Tower series unique—that and some astral plane travelling shenanigans. With each dark deed or questionable decision, I wanted to know more about Roland and what led him to that point.

It’s difficult to stay grounded in a world with interdimensional travel and monsters, but I always felt like I had one foot planted in humanity through Roland.

Jude Duarte, a human girl living in Faerie, is a cold-hearted ball of ambitious rage. Never have I rooted for a character so much.

Although picking fights with the clever and cruel Fair Folk is not pragmatic – on the surface – when the choice is between waiting for a random death on a bully’s whim or fighting back with every weapon at her disposal, Jude will always fight. I may have cheered out loud when she stabbed an enemy who broke into her bedroom and then stuffed his body under her bed until she could bury him. She does what she has to do to survive–and, in the end, to make Faerie a (slightly) better place.

Holly Black’s writing is so poetic, so smart, so sharp, like a honed fairy blade. She is a master.

I love Pratchett’s work so much in general that it’s really hard to pick just one. His work was side-splittingly funny but also the very best kind of satire. He had pointed things to say about society while also making you care deeply about his characters and making you laugh until your face hurts. Do you know how hard that is?

In this book, the protagonist is a con man forced into trying to resuscitate a dying postal service. He’s petty evil, the kind of selfish who has never thought about what happens to his victims. By the end, you can’t help but root for him to triumph over the much less petty but equally hidden evil of systems and big money. But you also can’t look away from the chaos of ravening stamp collectors, hapless wizards, and a literal avalanche of dead letters.

My second love in literature is unreliable narrators, and from word one, it’s clear the protagonist in John Dies at the End is the worst offender.

There are few likable characters to be found in this book, and none of them are the protagonist. I fell in love with the main character’s sarcastic and often salacious take on monsters, zombies, and everything in between. Every scene feels like a joke to the narrator despite the death and carnage that seems to follow in his wake.

More than any of that, this book felt completely unique. I’ve never read anything quite like it. The words crack like a whip, there’s no slowing down, and even as I re-read lines, I felt like I was starting to lose my mind along with the protagonist. That’s a powerful tale.

This rollicking set of whip-smart short stories through a supernatural Wild West is guaranteed to engage readers, with tales ranging from uncannily magical cards to steampunk bordellos to undead outlaws.

Delivering chaotic gunslinger fun from start to finish, Dead Man's Hand explores the intersecting worlds of the living and undead in many delightful and unforeseen ways. As a supernatural storyteller myself, I couldn't stop turning the pages to see what new fantastical creature or magical spell the authors would envision next.

It was my faithful companion through many late nights crafting my own novel, inspiring me with its spirited inventiveness of mysterious beings and magical mayhem. 

Cimorene, a princess disinclined to marry a numbskull prince, cuts her own path by seeking employment amongst the dragons. Naturally (naturally?) she is hired on the strength of her Latin and her skill at cooking cherries jubilee.

In this book and its sequel, Cimorene is proof that one can thwart any evil plan by the application of practical thinking, good manners, and a willingness to tell ballsy lies to nosy wizards. Now, isn’t that a world you’d like to live in? They were mainstays of my childhood (back when they had way cooler covers) and still bring me immense joy as an adult.

In this book, we get to watch philologist Percival Endicott Whyborne solve a dark mystery from his past and battle an evil cult in the company of Griffin Flaherty, an ex-Pinkerton turned private detective, and it is delightful.

Widdershins, MA feels like a real place, but also somewhere plucked directly from the pages of H. P. Lovecraft. Whyborne and Griffin’s relationship is sweet and tender. Whyborne’s best friend, Christine Putnam, is a spitfire in the best possible way. The early twentieth century is rendered in loving detail. And there’s a ton of dark humor. What’s not to love?

This is book one in a series of eleven, so you’ll have plenty to sink your teeth into.

Forging Hephaestus is a fantastic book about a tenuous treaty between superheroes and villains in a four-color world.

Hephaestus AKA Tori Rivas is a new supervillain and is learning the ropes from the most powerful one of them all, Fornax. Fornax is a lot nicer guy than you'd expect from the most terrifying of all villains, which shows this world is a lot more complicated than it seems.

I love the complexity, deep characterization, and thickness of this book. It’s over six hundred pages and full of fantastic details about a complicated but believable superhero world. By the end, I wanted to read a dozen more giant-sized volumes.