64 books like Cold Granite

MacLean was a contemporary of Desmond Bagley, so a natural candidate when it came to following up potential leads in the Bagley vein. He’s better remembered than Bagley, possibly because quite a few of his books were made into films, but he always acknowledged Bagley as the superior writer.

This book is a good example of classic MacLean–raw action in a location that plays as much a part as any of the living characters–and his ability to create a claustrophobic atmosphere is simply terrific.

One of Cussler’s earlier novels featuring Dirk Pitt, Cussler sends his erstwhile hero deep into a desert landscape where he throws all manner of problems at them.

As Pitt and co battle to survive the harsh conditions, they are tested to the limit as they must not only escape the arid landscape, but do in time to foil a dastardly plot. While perhaps not as much of a literary heavyweight as some of the other authors mentioned on this list, Cussler is brilliant at writing a rollicking good yarn.

With this stunning introduction to Shane “Scarecrow” Schofield, Reilly hits the heights of adventure like few before him.

The action is non-stop and just when you think you have a chance to breathe, the frigid Antarctic conditions rear their head. Not so much a full on foe, as a general hindrance, I loved Ice Station because Reilly’s sparse descriptions of the landscape and inhospitable weather were just enough to bring a sympathetic shiver to me before the action kicked off again.

Many of the Hammond Innes novels I’ve read could have featured on this list, but I’ve chosen this one because so much of it is about a battle with the elements.

Ian Ferguson is on a quest to Labrador Island to discover who sent the rescue message that was the last communication his radio operator father received. Innes is so adept at describing the weather you’ll shiver along with his characters.

Ian is probably the most famous of all Tartan Noir writers. In fact the term Tartan Noir was coined when Ian met James Ellroy at a crime fiction event in Nottingham many years ago. Ian explained that he too was a crime writer and wrote about Edinburgh and the darker side of Scottish life. He said, you could call it Tartan Noir. Ellroy laughed and signed the book 'To the king of Tartan Noir'.

Black and Blue was Ian’s breakthrough novel and when you read it you can see why. Dark and compelling and complex, with perhaps greater depth than the ones that came before, this was my introduction to Rebus and remains a favourite still. 

For anyone about to enter the world of Ian Rankin’s Rebus, Black and Blue is the ideal way in, with plenty more in store.

Having personally investigated numerous missing persons cases (not all of which ended well), I was drawn to this book and identified with DI Rebus’ frustrations with the police bureaucracy. The inner demons that are the cornerstone of the Rebus character make for a wonderfully flawed protagonist and one exceptionally good read.

If you love underdog stories, this one offers a double helping. First, Inspector Witherspoon’s career is threatened by ambitious and unscrupulous men who want to see him fail. Secondly, his household staff are the real heroes, tracking down clues that they cleverly feed to their unsuspecting employer to help him solve murder cases. Each staff member has unique methods for uncovering information, and together they make an effective team. I chuckle at their close calls as they scramble to hide their secret sleuthing from the inspector and the rest of the police force.  

This first novel gives the backstory: what’s at stake for the inspector and his household, plus why his housekeeper (Mrs. Jeffries) is a plausible and capable sleuth.

The main character, Bruce Robertson, is repulsive. But there’s something deeply funny about a pathologically miserable bastard.

Bruce does and says terrible things, he believes terrible things, he plays sadistic tricks against coworkers (he’s a detective sergeant in Edinburgh). But the thing that really makes me squirm about Bruce is the food he eats and how he goes about eating it. Despite Bruce’s repellent nature, Welsh’s approach to the character is magical.

I was locked in from the first page—I couldn’t look away—and the glints and glimmers of Bruce’s humanity ultimately made my heart break.

As a writer I look to Crombie’s Constable Duncan Kincaid/Sergeant Gemma James series for guidance on how to have your characters grow professionally and personally, to age and experience the kind of changes people go through in real life. I recommend book one of the nineteen in the series, A Share in Death, because it sets up the relationship between the two detectives.

This is the first book in George’s twenty-one book series featuring Scotland Yard Inspector Thomas Lynley, the eighth earl of Asherton, and Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers, a commoner.

When I read A Great Deliverance, I fell in love with George’s beautiful writing, found her two characters fascinating, and adored the cast of characters supporting the detectives. Plus, the book is unusual because the reader knows from the start who the killer is and the investigation focuses on why she killed him.

When I sat down to write my first ever fiction, Linley and Havers were the inspiration for my two detectives, NYPD Detectives Chiara Corelli and P.J. Parker. And I learned from George that the characters are as important, if not more important, than the plot. She inspired my writing.