The most recommended gay romance novels

I really love a good anti-hero and Ariana Nash delivers it in this series.

The story centers around a soldier and a prince bound by dark magic. Needless to say, the soldier hates the monarchy, prince included, which instantly drives the conflict between the two. This is a slow-burn romance. The way the prince uses the soldier is reprehensible until you figure out why he does it.

Can he be redeemed? I think so. 

I’ve been a huge advocate for queer representation in kids’ and YA stories for years, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to crave stories about queer adults. I want to know what life looks like after coming out, after coming of age. That’s why I was delighted to discover A Marvellous Light, an Edwardian-era romantic caper chock-full of sprawling country manors, scheming aristocrats, and lots and lots of magic!

If you’re looking for a golden retriever/black cat romance with Jane Austen or E. M. Forster vibes, this one might be for you, though the previous warning regarding unsuspecting cishets still applies: despite its old-timey setting, this book doesn’t pull any punches in its steamier scenes, taking a refreshingly frank and direct approach to sexuality. 

I’ve always thought of this book as a gay “bodice-ripper,” though a bit on the darker side. And it’s the darkness that haunts me still some two decades after first reading it.

The love story, if one can call it that, verges on and then outright plunges into brutal obsession between the two main male characters, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, I rooted for them.

Beyond the intensity of the relationship between the main characters, the writing, steeped in the history of the English Revolution, is wonderful–strong and brutal and raw and visceral. I’ve returned to this novel repeatedly over the years, and its impact never lessens. Truly a marvel of a novel. 

This book was billed as a magical gay murder cruise, and I was so thrilled to discover that it more than lived up to the pitch.

Dee, the loveably insecure and absolutely hilarious protagonist, had me cheering for him the whole way through the book as he works to uncover who is killing his fellow passengers. With the help of a delightful found family nicknamed the Swarm, Dee realizes that not only is he cut out for the task—he’s truly the only man for the job.

This book made me laugh and cry and ultimately touched me deeply as it spoke to coming to trust and love oneself. 

Reentering the world of myth is something I haven’t done much since college.

Frankly, the characters weren’t identifiable to me, even if the stories were timeless and I could see them repeated in books, movies, and stories I loved. Then came The Song of Achilles and suddenly the fairy-tale characters took on more real lives, became real people. Even if they were Greek gods, they acted as mortals, the way we do.

The stories I tell have similar mythic characters, who act in ways that we don’t expect, who do things we could do, but don’t out of fear of ridicule or worse. But in the end, some succeed and some fail, just like in life.

When Wingmen was published in 1979, there had been nothing else quite like it: a war novel, very well researched, with plenty of action and adventure… plus a romance between two men at its center. Those feelings emerge, in a classic slow burn, between young Ensign Fred Trusteau and the more seasoned Lieutenant Commander Fred Hartigan against the backdrop of the Pacific Theatre of World War II. The often-harrowing life of naval aviators is vividly conveyed in action scenes set in places whose names will be familiar to students of WW2 – Wake Island, Tarawa, Kwajalein, Truk. Case has certainly done his homework on the hardware and the military lingo, but what lifts the narrative is the uncertain, unconventional romance between the main characters. What Top Gun could have been.

My husband and I met in the newsroom at the Houston Post newspaper. On paper, I guess you could say we had the same job: writing for the newspaper.

But like Lawson Gale and Jack Brighton in this book, both of whom work to preserve the environment, our jobs weren’t the same at all. He was a political reporter while I was an arts reviewer. We have completely different passions.

When lepidopterist Lawson travels to Tasmania to find and protect an endangered butterfly, he’s escorted by Parks and Wildlife officer Jack and his Border collie. I’ll admit I wasn’t very excited to read this book, but did because a friend said it was “good”.

Since I have almost no interest in endangered butterflies and environmental problems, I was hoping for “goodish mediocre”. What I got was brilliance. The book is funny, suspenseful, playful, and romantic.

The bottom line is even… show more.

This book takes us on various modes of public transportation through Seattle, following an overweight, diabetic grocery store cashier struggling to make ends meet after losing his boyfriend to mob violence during a BLM rally. I love the way this book mirrors the moments of hilarity and the moments of sleaze that anyone who has ridden a bus in a metropolitan area will immediately recognize. It took me back to my own trips on the New York City subways, reading a book while a homeless man sang "Sexual Healing" in the aisles, lol. This book is totally of our moment, as the passengers argue about wearing masks vs. not wearing masks, or ride the light rail to the latest rally advertised on Facebook.

The book is broken into short little vignettes, moving us (seemingly) randomly through unconnected encounters with a rag-tag group of fellow passengers. The joy is that the… show more.

A blend of humor and Chinese fantasy, The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System was my first brush with the Chinese sub-genre of transmigration novels, similar but different from Western portal fantasy or Japanese isekai. The main character ends up in a world not his own, and in the process of trying to make it better, comes rather close to destroying it. That dissonance between intention and results is something I absolutely love in my heroes. Competence is boring. I want to see (and write) messiness and complacency and efforts made that perhaps weren’t thought out all the way. That, to me, is not only humor but true heroism.

I love the start of this. An actor (again!) wakes to find himself naked and bound to a plank in the middle of the Texas range. Fortunately, along comes his saviour in the form of Duke, his knight in shining armour, or in this case, a cowboy. It’s a debut novel and it’s very good. Romantic and sweet with a bit of a mystery and I loved the touches of humour. Humour always brings a book alive for me. Sadly I think that’s the only book Thorny has written and it’s shame.