100 books like Sex Workers Unite

I really have no idea how Corporate Crush ever ended up in my hands.

The set up was all wrong for me—the boss and admin trope (power disparity concerns), the female villain defined only by her money-grubbing ways (eyeroll), the romantic relationship controlled by a formal contract (both ew and legally unenforceable). But I quickly discovered that I, as the judgmental reader, was the only one-dimensional villain in this story. 

After I put down my ego, I discovered a hilarious book about strong, smart, potty-mouthed women fighting for power in an ever-antiquated corporate America. It promotes body positivity, shifts traditional sexual power dynamics, and is sexy as hell both inside and outside the bedroom. 

I am a sucker for any and all sapphic romance but throw in two main characters that are individually powerful before they find love...and I’m done. Stars Collide got to me, folks, and not just for its portrayal of strong female leads.

This book sticks with me because of its thoughtful description of an older woman discovering her sexuality. It challenges the idea that all people are able to define their orientation early in life and allows older people to question their sexuality, despite any past romantic relationships (even, gasp, the infallible institution of marriage!). 

In fairness, you may not have missed this book. However, I will die on my hill arguing it has not yet received the accolades it deserves. 
Among many other topics, Honey & Spice brilliantly explores modern romance through the eyes of college students—a topic very near and dear to my own sappy, romance-author heart. It questions sexual dynamics from both male and female perspectives, with emphasis on unpacking underlying gender stereotypes and evolving the concept of sexual consent.

With its unflinching descriptions of slut-shaming and its gratifying treatment of those that dare use women’s sexuality against them, Honey & Spice should be dominating any romance reader’s TBR list.

At the risk of being ostracized by the romance community, I will admit here that I am not much of a paranormal romance reader.

In my world, vampires are too pretentious, werewolves are too moody, and bigfoot is far too introverted. But as a socially awkward girl born somewhere between Salem and Provincetown, I was raised to crush hard on powerful witches. And thank God for it because my deep-seated witch obsession led me to this gem.

A Witch’s Guide to Fake Dating is a sexy romance written under the shocking assumption that women enjoy sex for reasons unrelated to either reproduction or social obligation. It promotes self-discovery as critical to entering a healthy sexual relationship and deconstructs the domineering hero trope so beloved in romance novels of yore.

I also write about this book in my work. I again have problems with it, but it gives a kind of slice-of-life snapshot of Cuban life at that moment (around 2005), and especially about jineteras, or “jockeys,” women who supplement their income by going out with wealthy foreigners. Doing research on that book gave me a look at Cuba that was invaluable. And it is sometimes funny. It serves as a kind of coda to my book in that it reproduces many of the rhetorical moves of other chica lit but in a completely different setting. 

I absolutely loved this book, set in the London of the 1960s. It starts with the murder of a prostitute and takes you into the shady world of Soho with its drugs and clubs, its swingers and its singers. A young PC is assigned to work with the CID to catch the killer, as he found the body. The writing is vivid and it appeals as the murder, though central, is only part of a broader picture of the London of that era.

A truly singular book that details a semi-fictionalized account of a transgender sex worker surviving in Seattle. Depicted as a cute anthropomorphic dog-like creature, the story follows her as she meets with various clients and navigates her own identity struggles and in-progress transition (not to mention her own safety in her dangerous line of work). A deeply emotional and raw story that still manages to retain its own dark sense of humor throughout.

(Deals with themes of drugs, sex, and violence. 18+ only.)

A truly heartbreaking book about an alcoholic who travels to Las Vegas to drink himself to death, and the prostitute who falls in love with him. It’s a haunting story about addiction, but also a tragic love story. I feel this book is one of the best depictions of alcoholism, and how it can ultimately destroy you. The tragic story extended into real life as the author committed suicide a few weeks after signing the film rights. It is a hard read, but that’s what makes it amazing.

I suspect one of the reasons I enjoy reading (and writing) about amateur detectives is that I’m instinctively drawn to stories of the dispossessed – those without a voice, forced to take matters into their own hands because the proper authorities won’t listen. Kirstin Innes’ debut novel, about a woman investigating the disappearance of her sex worker sister, is not for the fainthearted: a deep dive into a parallel world that foregrounds the voices of the women who inhabit it and challenges widely-held conceptions about them – namely that they’re all poor, pathetic victims in need of rescuing. Innes’ thorough research shines throughout, and the result is a compelling, informative, and thought-provoking novel that avoids the common tropes associated with the “dead hooker” subgenre of crime fiction.

A feministic milestone, a must-read for all activists and people engaged in the battle for a better society. It tells the story of Firdaus, a young woman coming of age in the male-dominant Egyptian society, who never eyes an escape from the hardships and trials imposed on her by senseless men. It’s such a strong description of women as an underclass, as slaves in a male dominant society, that it changes your basic outlook on life. “Every single man I did get to know filled me with but one desire: to lift my hand and bring it smashing down on his face.” – Firdaus