70 books like Kill the Queen

I think that mental and emotional strength are often more hard-won than the physical kind. Fiona is a survivor. Literally. She’s the one that got away from a serial killer.

I can’t imagine the fortitude it would take to put your life back together and be able to function again after what she endured. But she not only rebuilt her life, she’s dedicated it to helping others through her search and rescue dogs. I enjoyed the weaving of her work into the heart of the story because it’s a huge part of who she is and how she copes, especially with the new danger that lands on her doorstep. Her strength and compassion are what draw taciturn Simon to her, even when he doesn’t want to be.

I love that she’s written with cracks that sometimes bleed but an inner core strong enough to keep her whole.

If I were ever to face a zombie apocalypse, I would want Mercy Thompson by my side. Mercy is a scrappy coyote shifter, and despite often being physically outmatched by the myriad supernatural creatures surrounding her, it is her intelligence, independence, and resourcefulness that truly sets her apart for me. I also just love that she is a mechanic, as Patty has taken that gender expectation and turned it on its head. 

I adore that when Mercy believes in something, she stands her ground, no matter the consequences. Her unwavering moral compass and fierce loyalty make her an awesome heroine. In a world filled with chaos, Mercy Thompson is the kind of fierce female companion every reader would be fortunate to have. And as I said, I totally call dibs on her for the apocalypse. 

I adore the character of Sam Holland. She is a badass cop, not willing to take crap from anyone, even her fellow officers, with a smart mouth that gets her into as much trouble as it gets her out of. Her character is written with such nuance and honesty that she’s someone I’ve willingly followed through 22 books (and counting).

Sam works twice as hard to make sure she’s living up to her own expectations as much as anyone else’s, always afraid of falling short, something I think we all tend to be too hard on ourselves about at times. The love interest throughout the series sometimes struggles with her strong personality, even as he admires her for it, which I think lends a depth of realism to their relationship as it grows and sometimes flounders.

Linda Howard writes a lot of strong female MCs, and this is a prime example. I think the beauty of Jina is that she’s an every-woman, a happy little computer nerd helping the quasi-military GO-Teams from an air-conditioned office, who hates to sweat or get dirt under her nails. Being pulled into their world against her will pits her against some of her worst fears. But she won’t walk away because being a quitter is her worst fear of all.

I love that with every challenge thrown her way, she grows into a more confident version of herself. That confidence sparks the forbidden attraction with her team leader. He’s drawn to her inner strength and sense of determination, as well as her smart mouth. I appreciated that she doesn’t turn into a Sarah Connor-type super-soldier by the end but is shown with human strengths and weaknesses that make her relatable… show more.

I love this book by Nisha J. Tuli because of the strong female main character, Lor. She's fearless, smart, and captivating. Lor's resilience and strength make her journey thrilling. 

I couldn't put it down between the deadly trial, finding out who she is, and the steamy romance. Plus, her character development is incredible, making the story engaging and empowering. It's a must-read!

To me, what’s most striking about this book, a queer retelling of “Snow White,” is that in addition to the POV of the Snow White character, Lynet, there’s also narration from Mina, the Evil Queen insert. Only in this retelling Mina isn’t a superficial villain.

In fact, she’s no villain at all. I find her to be a complex heroine, and her relationship with Lynet is equally rich and complicated. I was compelled by Lynet and Mina’s struggles under the weight of feminine and royal expectations. Despite their conflicts, they are more alike than they are different, and their journey to realizing this was so satisfying.

The sapphic romance between Lynet and a surgeon provides a lovely subplot that adds to, rather than distracts from, the main storyline. One of my all-time favorite sapphic retellings.

Quest is in the name, and does it ever live up to it! As the culmination of The Farseer Trilogy, it does the previous books justice. The journey is arduous, full of twists and turns, and the reader feels every wound Fitz suffers. Yet as in every good quest, in the end, he achieves what he aims to do – though not in the way he expects, and at an unimaginable cost. This is Hobb at her finest, and I cannot recommend it highly enough.

I think it was the first biography I ever purchased. At age ten or eleven, I read in it, but now I’m reading it all the way through, and I’m pleased to say that even at that tender age, I gravitated to the best!

Fraser stops the narrative when she wants to discourse upon a particular issue or attribute and always considers her own take on events and characters worthy of elegant interjection.

She’s not afraid to discuss relevant but not strictly solemn issues, such as whether Mary was considered beautiful and the tragic queen’s love of dancing and cross-dressing. 

Elizabeth I is one of the most popular Tudors and her story has been told and retold in countless biographies and Anne Somerset’s weighty nonfiction study is my favourite. It details the big-picture moments of the queen’s life–her rivalries, successes, and failures–without losing sight of the human at the heart of the story. We can thus enjoy learning about Elizabeth the woman as well as Elizabeth the queen.

This is a book I occasionally dip into for a reference and invariably end up rereading in its entirety.

I really enjoyed Leah Chang’s beautifully written Young Queens. It adds a new twist to the “royal biography” genre by tracing the interconnected lives of three women – Catherine de’ Medici, Elisabeth de Valois, and Mary, Queen of Scots – from childhood into adulthood.

Chang has a gift for bringing history to life, interweaving her sources with a sweeping narrative so that you feel like you can hear these women speaking in their own voices. She shows the paradox at the heart of their lives: even at the height of power, these queens were measured by their gender and their bodies, seen as vessels for the future of the state. It’s an important counterbalance to the usual narrative of royal history.