Fans pick 100 books like Phantom

I’m an award-winning and USA Today Best-Selling author whose work includes everything from short stories in school journals to horror and epic fantasy. But I’ve long been obsessed with books that work as well for adults as they do for children. The prose must be beautiful and designed to read aloud; the plot must be on point, and the characters must be compelling. And all of this with a PG rating. A tricky ask, even when the authors haven’t added Easter egg extras for adults. It’s because of this that I believe these are some of the best fantasy books ever written. So, enjoy! 

My dad raised me on science fiction and fantasy. At first, it was enough for me to be entertained by stories of spaceflight, of rescuing maidens in distress, and of fighting bug-eyed monsters. But over the years, as I read more, I realized that I wanted stories with a moral or ethical center, stories where murder, mayhem, and war were to be avoided if possible, and where, if they couldn’t be avoided, the protagonists struggled deeply with the moral dimensions of the actions forced upon them. I wanted to see characters growing into their ethical consciousness.

I was reading from a young age, but I didn’t start devouring books until I found the fantasy genre. I firmly believe that there is a set of books out there that every person can love, even if they don’t consider themselves a capital-R, serious Reader. It would be a great waste for someone not to know that fantasy literature might be their special thing. If someone is searching for a genre of fiction that they could fall in love with, I sincerely hope that these books can open the doors to other worlds. 

Currently, the world seems concerned that artificial intelligence (AI) will destroy the world or at least put many of us out of jobs. Only a few years ago, a significant part of the population believed that COVID-19 was made in a Chinese laboratory and intentionally or accidentally leashed on the world, killing millions. This isn’t just a theme in tech thrillers; it’s a theme in life. Whether it’s nuclear weapons, genetic engineering, AI, or some other type of technology, there’s always a fear that it’ll do more damage than good and, at its worst, bring an end to the world. 

P. I. Tchaikovsky is a world-famous composer but few people know anything about him. Much of his life was hidden by the Soviet Union due to his homosexuality. As information finally came to light, the mystery of his death in 1893 became an obsession for me. The truth of it lies beyond the rumors of suicide or cholera, as particular circumstances exposed in my novel clearly show. I am a ballet historian and the writing of Fate was an eight-year endeavor. Readers of Fate can now be the proverbial fly on the wall while Tchaikovsky lives his life and creates his major works.

Having been a professional singer for about five decades and having grown up with, and studied the early recordings of operatic singers for just as long, I feel that I am in an unusual position when it comes to analyzing their art. The ability to describe a singer’s voice on paper is a unique challenge but one that I enjoy solving–especially since each voice is a law unto itself. When done correctly, analysis like this should make the reader want to go and find the recording so that they can listen for themselves. This is especially true for my expanded Kindle version of Early 20th Century Opera Singers.

I have been enthralled with legends of medieval knights and ladies, dark fairy tales and fantasies about Druids, wizards, and magic since childhood. I fell in love with French in junior high school and continued studying the language throughout college. My debut novel, "The Wild Rose and the Sea Raven"--the first of a trilogy-- is a blend of my love for medieval legends, the romantic French language, and paranormal fantasy. It is a retelling of the medieval romance of "Tristan et Yseult", interwoven with Arthurian myth, dark fairy tales from the enchanted Forest of Brocéliande, and otherworldly elements such as Avalonian Elves, Druids, forest fairies and magic— with a decidedly romantic French flair.

I love Paris. It is one of my favorite cities on Earth. One of the reasons I adore it so much is because it has such a palpable sense of enchantment. There is magic in its cathedrals and catacombs, its pâtisseries and feal markets, its rich tradition of art and joie de vivre. You can feel it in your soul as you walk through the city, under the gazes of its gargoyles and the charm of its cafes. Thus, I’ve always been drawn to stories that take this one step further—exploring a Paris that harbors actual magic.

I learned to read music at about the same time I learned to read words. I grew up taking piano lessons, studying almost entirely classical pieces that came weighted with history: everything I ever played had been played better by someone else. I still enjoyed my attempts, but realized that the relationship I had with those notes was not the one I wanted to have with words, which I felt drawn to assemble into my own arrangements, my own stories. So, as a weirdo who’s been thinking about interpretation and creation since childhood, I love books that delve into the challenges and emotional complexities of making music.

When my daughter was three years old, I enrolled her in a “creative movement” class. I had taken dance lessons for ten years when I was younger, so this felt like an obvious choice. At age eleven, her teacher suggested that she had the facility, talent, and drive to pursue a career in ballet. What followed was seven years of being a “ballet mom,” as she studied, performed, competed, and ultimately left home to pursue her career. The Still Point comes from this experience. It's a novel about dark ambition, but it's also a love letter: to my daughter, to ballet, and to the mothers who became my closest friends inside the ballet studio walls.