65 books like Boy of Fire and Earth

In 1937, 28-year-old Jack volunteers for a remote expedition to Gruhuken, the former whaling station on the Norwegian archipelago of Svalbard. He, his four companions, and eight huskies journey north through the brief Arctic summer, their spirits high. At first. As winter approaches, Jack’s companions are forced to leave, until he is utterly alone in a land of never-ending darkness. Bad enough, you might think, but as Jack learns, another presence shares his claustrophobic world of night-time, and the sea is icing over. Soon, it will be impossible to leave. Part horror, part ghost story, this is one of the creepiest tales I’ve ever read.  

I love this book because it features urbex (urban exploration) and I've done a bit of that myself; some of my previous books were about it. Much of the story is centred around the disused Blackwater Asylum, an enormous complex of wards and treatment rooms with only a skeleton staff of security guards. Everyone associated with Blackwater has their own secrets, from the former patient who lives within the grounds to the property developer with his eye on the land, and we follow Detective Lew Kirby and urban explorer Connie Darke as they try to unravel the crimes that have taken place there. There is mystery aplenty, but what really made this book for me were the locations. The bone jar itself – which I am not going to describe! Go and read the book! – is absolutely stunning and completely original. 

First published in 1934, this extraordinary novel begins with a chance meeting between the Hungarian narrator, János Bátsky, and reclusive Welsh aristocrat the Earl of Gwynedd, who invites Bátsky to visit him in his castle in Wales. Our hero accepts the invitation, in spite of various warnings (his friend Fred describes the Earl as "Mad as a hatter!" and an anonymous phone call advises Bátsky that everyone who becomes involved with him "comes to a sticky end"). From this point on, the story becomes increasingly bizarre, involving ancient grudges, the Rosicrucians and a laboratory full of giant axolotls.

If someone were to ask me what I thought of this book, I would honestly have to say: "I don't know." The effect of reading it was rather like stuffing yourself with Christmas cake: too rich to manage all at one go. But what I did enjoy very much were the impressions… show more.

This tightly-plotted murder mystery takes place in one of the most compelling imagined settings I’ve ever encountered: a double city somewhere in the Balkans where the inhabitants of each half are required by law not to see the inhabitants of the other half.

Equal parts Kafka and Philip K Dick, Miéville’s The City and the City offers a thought-provoking meditation on the haves and have-nots, as well as life in the Balkanized cities of the world, those “double places” where one-half of the population conspires not to notice the other half.

Mimi doesn’t want to spend her summer in Pakistan with grandparents she has never met. Instead, she wishes to fill her journal with her letters to her long-absent father. Things brighten when she meets Sakina, who hopes to improve her English so she can get into school. As summer continues, they become united by their many questions. This wonderful novel provides a bridge into how people from different cultures might understand each other.

There is a fine line between silly and slapstick. This book manages to stay just barely on the good side of that line. Basically, we have two kids with genies being chased by bad guys. The danger motivates the kids to make wishes. The wishes are unlimited, but so are the consequences. Little wishes have little consequences while a big enough wish comes with death. Reading about the kids being forced to hop up and down, clap their hands and make weird noises as a result of the wishes is highly entertaining. But there are also a lot of openings for serious discussion as the kids try to negotiate smaller wishes to achieve similar results.  Which consequences would you accept?  

This book reads more like a thriller with heart than a historical novel, which makes it the perfect historical fiction for those just dipping a toe into the genre. 

Set in 1969 in Malaysia, during the historic race riots, the story follows a Beatles-obsessed teenage girl with OCD as she struggles to survive and get back to her family. I devoured this story over a couple of nail-biting days – and I bet you will too.

The description opens with “When the snarky Glory St. Pierre,” so I’m all over it right there. A. Star is an author I’ve read a lot of, and she cultivates both snark and take-no-crap female leads…with a frequent dash of hot hero. Where can you go wrong with that? This series is a sort of cross between urban and epic fantasy, following a modern girl who stumbles into a Djinn and ends up entangled in his world, with danger, suspense, and all the snark you can handle along the way.

Nahri is a con artist with dreams of becoming a doctor, if only she can ever make enough money to get out of Cairo. When a con goes terribly wrong, she realizes the magic that she’s always scoffed at is real–and deadly. The only way to get the target off her back is to get to Daevabad, the City of Brass.  

I have loved Egypt since I was a small girl, and Chakraborty’s mystical world of djinn encapsulates everything I ever wanted from an Egyptian-inspired story. There is magic, intrigue, and absolutely incredible religious inclusion and diversity. There’s a little slow-burn romance too, to top it off. While the story starts in a real-world Cairo, it quickly heads towards the fantastical setting of Daevabad.

While some people may not think of genies (or jinn) as monsters in the same category as Bigfoot or dragons, from a cultural and folkloric point of view they definitely are.

Most Americans probably think of the wisecracking genie in Disney’s Aladdin, but belief in genies is both serious and widespread. In his book Legends of the Fire Spirits journalist Robert Lebling describes how the creatures appear in the Koran (hint: it’s closer to the recent film Three Thousand Years of Longing).

They are in some ways the Muslim equivalent of Christian angels, imbued with magical powers and viewed by the devout not as real and tangible as you or I. What I love about this book is how Lebling reveals the real stories of jinn—in both their wonder (granting wishes) and terrible vengeance (mass murder).

As with all monsters, whether you believe in them or not is… show more.