Fans pick 100 books like Hither, Page

There’s a reason this book is called Slippery Creatures (aside from all the Shakespeare references), and it’s not because of straightforward, upright, just-a-bit-stroppy ex-soldier Will Darling.

Having accidentally inherited a highly sought-after secret along with his uncle’s bookstore, he’s practically surrounded by slippery creatures, not least of whom is Kim, a helpful aristocrat with unclear intentions, a shady past, a delightful fiancée, and an awful lot of baggage.

I became so invested in their relationship that I actually looked into whether Will would be eligible to be drafted in WWII. And no matter how often I re-read it, I laugh whenever I get to certain little jokes or witty exchanges. It’s funny, clever, touching, and so engaging.

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.

I have to admit, although I know a lot about gods, I haven’t spent a ton of time reading about folkloric creatures, like faeries, brownies, and selkies. This book, set in a gothic old house in the English countryside in the 1850s, definitely made me feel my neglect of the topic; luckily, I got to learn alongside magician John Blake and Lord Thornby as they investigate the spell that’s holding Thornby trapped.

One remarkable thing about this book is the intriguing and clever magic system. The romance is great. And the twist at the end—well, I didn’t see it coming.

This book feels like a cozy, comfortable read: two lovely people being lovely to each other, particularly around being gentle with each other’s past traumas. But it also has plenty of plot, humor, and wonderful characters; I particularly appreciate Demas’s talent for quick and simple but highly effective character sketches.

Damiskos is another straightforward ex-soldier type, innocently visiting an old friend to buy fish sauce and unprepared to encounter plotting philosophers. Varazda, a eunuch and slave, is prickly in a fun-to-read way until he begins to trust Damiskos, and then it’s wonderful to see how well they work together, both in unraveling the scheme and in supporting and caring for each other. On a more superficial note, I adore Varazda’s outfits.

Sri Lankan photojournalist Maali Almeida is stuck in purgatory and determined to find out how he died. Maali is no saint, and his questionable antics—both his sexual exploits and the questionable work he took on during Sri Lanka’s civil war—come back to haunt him as he slips in and out of places he had been when he was alive.

I loved the irreverence, the humor, and the insights into a civil war I knew little about and I was endlessly fascinated by the portrayal of purgatory and the afterlife.

A friend recommended this book to try to get me out of a reading slump, and man, this book had me crawling out fast. I was impressed with just a darn good story that had me from the start.

Not only did this story contain the elements of suspense and romance that I enjoy, but the intricate lives of the characters had me rooting and emotional, wanting more of them by the end. I would highly recommend this to other readers.

My first sexual experience after I moved to London in 1957 was with a slightly older man I met at one of the parties I got invited to after my book was published. When we got to his flat I knew enough to take my clothes off and lie down on the bed, but what was I supposed to do then? Clueless, I lay there like a stick of celery. “You’re not gay,” he kept repeating. “Yes I am,” I kept repeating, but didn’t know how to prove it.

Too many years later, in 1966, The Song of the Loon filled in the blanks of how gay men actually had sex. It’s very well-written explicit erotica, a backwoods fantasy about impossibly handsome masculine men living far from those city gays corrupted by shame and disappointment. Song is no quick potboiler. It’s a gay author’s well-realized attempt to bring to life… show more.

This was the first book by Alexis Hall I’ve read, and I fell in love with his writing. It’s witty and charming and perhaps a bit ridiculous at times. But that’s what makes it charming. Luc’s job is in danger unless he begins to get his life together. What job? He works for a nonprofit charity whose goal is to save the dung beetle—Coleoptera Research or Protection Project, or CRAPP. The solution? A fake boyfriend.

I love the large supporting cast this book has, each quirky enough to get their own story one day. Hall is a master of comedic writing, but more than that, I love that he can also write poignant moments. This book is one of my all-time favorites.

I'm a political junkie. And if you want Veep in book form, this is for you. Are Thom and Clay likable? Eventually, yes! Is the premise completely nuts? Totally, and I love it.

I am a huge sucker for enemies-to-lovers. And pining. And the public lens being trained on our MCs. And this one has it all. The banter, the chemistry, everything you want in a romance, plus the absurd US political system is like a cherry on top. 

Fadeout is the first book in Hansen’s Dave Brandstetter mysteries. The protagonist, an openly gay insurance investigator in 1970s California, is convinced that a man who has been reported dead is actually still alive, and he must hurry to find him. Another classic in the gay mystery canon, Fadeout is vividly noir, grittily honest, and rejects cliches and stereotypes in a way that is still shocking over fifty years later.