100 books like Mother-Daughter Murder Night

One of my favorite characters in this middle-grade mystery has always been Chris Theodorakis, the teen boy with an unnamed neurological condition that confines him to a wheelchair and, for the most part, to his house.

Even if he can’t leave home—and even if people often look away from him when he does—Chris plays a key role in solving the mystery at the heart of the book by being a keen observer of everything that passes in front of his window. I love how this novel depicts Chris’s inner world to young readers, including his awareness of how his condition affects others’ perceptions.

More importantly, it shows how much people with disabilities and illnesses still have to offer. 

I love this book because it’s the best fictional example I’ve ever seen of a character’s disability being eclipsed by his talent. Lincoln Rhyme is paralyzed, but his talent as a criminologist is far more important—and Deaver showcases Rhyme’s genius and passion as often as he details the difficulties of disability.

I find the book’s mystery compelling and the characters well-written, and I couldn’t get enough of the relationship between Lincoln Rhyme and Amelia Sachs. I’ve never seen a better portrayal of a partnership based solidly on mutual respect and admiration. I’m so grateful for how this story demonstrates that disability doesn’t need to stop you from making a real impact through the gifts and talents you’ve been given.

This is the first book in the Joseph O’Loughlin series, and my favorite because it shows Joe shortly after his Parkinson’s diagnosis.

I know it’s popular to portray sick people as angelic, long-suffering inspirations to us all, but reality often differs, especially as someone adjusts to a devastating diagnosis and its far-reaching impact. As a respected psychologist, Joe is normally thoughtful, intelligent, and kind, but as he becomes ensnared in the death of a former acquaintance, his personal despair over his illness sends him into a self-destructive tailspin. Rather than making me dislike Joe, the honesty of his struggle made me sympathize with him all the more. 

No mystery I’ve read has better captured how a chronic condition can redefine your sense of self better than The Black Hour.

This book hooked me on the first page, where we are introduced to Amelia, a sociology professor who is returning to work after being shot by a student the previous year. We witness her struggling to walk up a hill she used to climb without a second thought, and now it’s Mount Everest. She’s simultaneously vulnerable, determined, defiant, and just plain in pain.

Having a chronic illness myself, what makes this book resonate with me is the way Amelia constantly compares her post-injury self to her pre-injury self and must come to terms with the distance between those two versions.

The complicated and wonderful characters in Mia’s family really drew me in. They all have enough to deal with: the pandemic; Mia’s first breakup; her complicated relationship with her twin, who seems to do everything right; their brother Eugene’s disabilities, which mean he’s often discriminated against or underestimated; and their parents’ struggles to keep it all together and move on from heartbreaking false hopes.

When her father disappears, Mia doesn’t let her other problems or even the fear and heartbreak get in the way of her determination to find out the truth–no matter how painful–and protect Eugene from unjust suspicion.

I loved the role the complex bonds between the various family members came to play in unraveling this case and coping with its ramifications.

Freya Lockwood is one relatable sleuth–middle-aged, divorced, empty-nesting, and wondering how her dreams for herself have vanished after passing through the meat grinder of adulthood.

I love the themes of estrangement from oneself and others in this debut cozy mystery, as well as the deep dive into the shadowy world of antiques trading from an author with significant personal experience in the field. 

Whether trying to finish an email or a book, I feel Dorothy Parker’s words deeply: “I hate writing,” she is purported to have said, but “I love having written.” 

In this book, protagonist Jacob Finch Bonner does Parker one better. Stuck after his well-received first novel, he takes someone else’s story and passes it off as his own. Korelitz unravels the dire consequences, though with fizzy, suspenseful glee rather than scared-straight preachiness.

Bonner may not be, as he tells himself, “a great writer,” but Korelitz certainly is. It made me want to try to write again: hate, love, and all other feelings welcome. 

I love this book because it takes you behind the scenes of the Palace and what goes on there.

Located in the very heart of London, I could not get around the city without going by the Palace. This book connects you to what is happening unseen and brings that intrigue home. It really completes the London experience for me.

This book gives me everything I want in a cozy mystery—Christmas, a snowy Montana village, killer chocolates, a mystery bookstore, and a protagonist with an identical twin sister! What more could you want?

I love the dynamics between twin sisters Hanna and Alex as they juggle duties in Murder and Mayhem, the book and chocolate shop they own together. Romeril delivers humor and the quirkiness of small-town life like a pro. I loved all the twists and turns that kept me guessing to the sweet end! 

This was a book that I picked up because my Mom recommended it. And she struck gold with this one. The book is set in a British retirement community, where a group of old-timers spend their time trying to solve cold cases. But over the course of the book, they get themselves caught up in one very hot case. 

The POV shifts between different characters, who all have interesting voices and skill sets.