46 books like I Could Live Here Forever

Sugar Man’s Daughter follows Nicola’s journey as she tries to escape her demons by returning to her childhood roots. It’s mysterious and dark; the characters are vivid and perfectly flawed; it sucks you in and keeps you turning the page. Sugar Man’s Daughter is an introspective piece that examines the dysfunction created in the wake of illegal drugs and corruption.

On any given day, this is my favorite book with one of my favorite bars, The Vine, a dive that Johnson describes as “like a railroad club car that had somehow run itself off the tracks into a swamp of time where it awaited the blows of the wrecking ball.” Is it a nice place? No. Would you take a date here? Not if you wanted them to respect you. Could you find yourself in mortal danger? Absolutely. But amongst the addicts and runaways, the small-time crooks and ne’er do wells, you’ll find moments of beauty that transcend the pain of everyday life, becoming, in its best moments, like reading scripture.

Another ultimate post-apocalyptic quest novel is The Stand, one of King’s most read (and longest) books, but I was more heavily influenced by (and love more) The Waste Lands (book 3 of The Dark Tower series). This is because the latter focuses less on the how of the collapse than the aftermath. King’s casual prose and quick, realistic dialogue have always been an inspiration in my writing. The found family connection between Roland, Eddie, Susanna, and Jake is at the heart of The Waste Lands. It is palpable and endearing, and something I strove to emulate with Delia, Gennero, Perth, and Mort in my own novel. There is an allusion to The Waste Lands in my book that big fans of The Dark Tower will catch.  

In the 70’s, two journalists from a prominent Berlin newspaper went to Zoo Station, a section of the city where hookers and junkies hung out where they met Christiane F. Over months they documented her story and helped her get it into book form. It’s a typical tale, abusive and/or indifferent parents, marijuana at 12, heroin addict and prostitute by 13. Her story is compellingly told and more tragic than most as we get to know the other 13-year-old boys and girls she hangs out with who also sell themselves for their next fix. The original mass market paperback came out in 1982 and was never reissued. Used copies are over $100. Fortunately, a new translation came out a few years ago under the title Zoo Station a memoir by Christane F that is readily available. 

Bourgois’ and Schonberg’s accounts opened up the ‘parallel world’ of homelessness for me and inspired me to do my own research on homelessness.

They spent years trying to understand people experiencing homelessness in San Francisco, following them on their daily journeys through institutions and city landscapes; they intimately understood their struggles, from mental health and addiction to systematic exclusion.

Their long, in-depth, and grassroots accounts of people on the street made me grasp their varied experiences for the first time.

When I first started reading I stumbled into this story about loss, love, and longing. I was amazed how the characters were able to survive through their ordeals and yet come out stronger with love and happiness on the other side. The emotion is real, and the imagery of a broken, yet strong heroin is phenomenal. I read this story more than five years ago but it’s one of the first I recommend to anyone looking for an exceptional storyline. Lola and Jack met under the most unfortunate circumstances, but together they manage to get through everything thrown against them.

The book pushed all my buttons. Marlowe has brief-ish relationship with heroin in NYC in the ’90s and apparently, can “just stop.” Her studied reflections on heroin and its culture are cemented in absolute resistance to the idea that addiction is a disease. For me, this is a dangerous concept that makes me cringe, as much of her book did. But her resolute intelligence and ego make for fascinating reading. With a frown, I reflected on phrases like, “Living in an eternal present is not good for us, no matter how much we want it.” Her book reminded me of the many ways people define addiction. It inspired me to get crystal clear on my viewpoint before I took pen to page.

This is a RH, urban fantasy academy setting book about a girl seeking vengeance for her brother, whom she believes was murdered by someone at the school.

The interesting part to this story is that the FMC’s main suspects are the men she ends up desiring. It’s a delicate balance of getting closer while investigating them, and other strange/horrible shenanigans going on around the school.

I do warn you, dear reader, that book 1 ends on a super cliffhanger, and the mystery is not solved. I’m currently reading the third book and everything just goes deeper (that’s what she said).

One of the book boyfriends is a literal dragon shifter, it counts, and the other one is a harpy shifter, big black feathery wings. Dreamy.

This is an “episode”; three episodes make a “season”. Yep, this series is patterned off of a tv show. What else would you expect from a series that was inspired by two different monster hunting shows: Supernatural and Scooby-Do?

Humor. Epic levels of teamwork… and drama in the team. A revolving door of baddies. Moments that make you want to just wrap our hero/heroin up and hold them forever.

The Hunter Chronicles series has all of that. This first episode is an excellent introduction to Val and all of her guys… Some of whom aren’t human. The whole team’s delightful.

And sexy. Don’t forget sexy.

These shorter stories—that make a much longer one—are like rich little snacks that I love to savor.

RH: Monster Hunters

Another underrated and underread book, this memoir traces one woman’s descent into heroin hell and, ultimately, her recovery and redemption. I’ve known many heroin addicts in my day, and I hate to say it, especially publicly, but very few have been able to turn their lives around. Mitchell is one of the exceptions, and she sets a wonderful example for others to follow and not lose hope. Many memoirists simply make a record of their lives, or, worse, glorify their drug addiction, but not Hanson. Her book is one of insight and soul-searching into the madness of addiction. She pulls no punches about the ugliness of the addict’s life, yet at the same time, she offers hope to the most seemingly hopeless among us. At the heart of this book is a powerful message of recovery by someone, who by all accounts, should be dead.