100 books like House of Slaughter

This YA novel is unquestionably one of my all time favourite reads. It’s about an asexual Apache girl with her ghost-dog sidekick in a world full of magic including faeries and vampires. The prose, the plot, the characters, the narrative structure—it was all brilliant and brought to life the story of a girl who can raise the ghosts of dead animals, a skill from her Lipan Apache family. A story that could’ve remained delightfully cute and sweet takes a decidedly darker turn when Elatsoe’s cousin is the picture-perfect town of Willowbee. As Elatsoe begins to investigate, she uncovers some seriously gruesome secrets in an alternate version of small-town America shaped by magic and monsters.

In 1700s France, the titular heroine of The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue makes a deal with a strange force in the forest, and attains one of my favorite superpowers: the ability to not be noticed.

Addie is immortal, and people always forget she exists the moment she leaves their presence. As a result, her life has been sad, lonely, strange, and fundamentally unchanging... until, in the modern era, she meets someone who does remember her. It's a fascinating take on one of my favorite premises.

To be honest, I was a little nervous of the blurb given the emphasis on fast cars and hard drugs, but this book ended up being the sweaty, sultry, sexy, Gothic horror book I didn't know I needed, way more dark academia than drag-racing drug-gang. I particularly appreciated the messy and authentic way in which the main character was allowed to grapple with his identity while processing his grief. I quite liked that no explicit labels were ever applied and that there was a more fluid approach to identity and sexuality in this book. So, if you're into slow-burn southern Gothic horror with lush and vivid prose and don’t mind a gruesome ghost or two, this book is for you!

This book is a lot like The Craft only queerer and so much cooler. The story features an eclectic group of teenagers who come together, despite their differences, to form a badass coven to perform even more badass magic, be that casting curses on annoying dudebros or love spells for the lesbian main character, all while trying to evade a vicious group of witch hunters determined to steal the coven’s magic. If you loved films like the aforementioned Craft or even Lost Boys, then you’ll enjoy this book that subverts the mean-girls trope while giving readers a story that is as horror-tinged as it is dark humor-filled.

Faggots pissed off a lot of people in the LGBTQ+ community when it was published in 1978, and Larry Kramer was accused of vilifying gay men for indulging in anonymous sex and recreational drugs. Unfortunately, the subsequent AIDS crisis, linked to unprotected sex and intravenous drug use, made the novel look like a prescient warning.

But the initial uproar and the retroactive clairvoyance attached to Faggots had no bearing on me when I read the novel in the 2000s. To me, there was a doomed innocence to these gay men. I didn’t begrudge them the joys of hot sex and exhilarating drugs. They didn’t know what was coming; they didn’t deserve what was coming. Books can take on new meaning across generations, and Faggots became a time capsule I cherish.

This historical fantasy is full of swashbuckling adventure, romance, and loveable characters.  For such a short story, there is an amazing depth, both in world-building and the characters themselves.  This was a great read from start to finish.

This book and series has everything, an enigmatic main character, an elusive serial killer, and best of all, a romantic relationship between LGBTQ+ characters that’s enviable and healthy and something to aspire to. Levi Abrams is likely my favorite character in any book I’ve ever read. He’s prickly, difficult, whip-smart, and driven, but he’s also vulnerable, genuine, and fiercely loyal. I love that I didn’t guess who the killer was in the first book (I had a theory, but I genuinely didn’t know for sure until the big reveal), and this series kept me on my toes the whole time. The writing is solid and the character development is spot on. It’s the kind of series I wish I had written myself.

I chose this book for its honest look at the fragility of love when the push and pull of church doctrine clashes in a family with twins.

One twin at 17 knows she is lesbian, and the other is a member of BOCK (Brides of Christ’s Kingdom). The story weaves lessons about the effects of homophobia and heartbreak with loss and love, forgiveness and acceptance in a small bible-belt town in Minnesota. It’s a serious subject told with wit, humor, and honesty.

A baby born helps to heal family rifts, but it’s the pull of loss and the power of love from everyone that brings a homophobic mother to acceptance that allows a young woman to follow her heart.

Jordan L. Hawk took a tired kind of trope and turned it into something amazing. I love paranormal stories, but with vampires, I need to be convinced. By the end of the first chapter, Jordan had me convinced. He took an opposites-attract story, threw a cranky vampire in the middle of it, and turned it into a love story that I now cannot wait for when each new installment is published. It’s fresh, exciting, and I’m still coming back for more. Jordan’s one of my auto-buy authors, and this is one of my favorites of his series. Hands down. The characters are vivid, the adventures unique, and their love story is one for the ages. There’s nothing ordinary about this book.

Twins Sam and Sam (yes, their two mums, both psychologists, did decide to give them the same name) are not quite teenagers. They both struggle with fears and friendships on the brink of high school. I love this book because the humour is so subtle but spot on, the characters are so well-drawn, and the twins’ different anxieties about an impending school trip are so relatable. The fact that Sam and Sam have two mums makes their family distinctive, and the mums’ relationship is warm and believable, but is not the main element of the story.