55 books like Snowspelled

Imagine if Downton Abbey neighbored Faerie. Then make the idea ten times more awesome, and you have The Lord of Stariel. I discovered it right before the final book in the quartet came out and binged them all.

The premise—a family’s magical estate will choose its next lord after the old one passes on—is intriguing enough. But what really sold me on this book is Hetta, the prodigal daughter. She’s level-headed, sharp-witted, and unwilling to be limited by society’s (or her family’s) ideas about the proper role of a lady. 

I don’t want to tell you too much about her counterpart—the book should unfold its secrets. But he’d make a strong showing in a Best Hero contest.

This book is the reason I write fantasy. It shaped me in integral ways by showing me a Black woman who was both magic and loved, who altered the course of an entire kingdom—an entire world.

The writing is incredible, the story has so many layers to it, and from start to finish it’s an incredible story. It’s one of the few books I wish could read for the first time again.

What if a society blessed one form of magic use while all but criminalizing the other? Marnie Becker was born a witch in this world, which puts her forever at the margins. She tries to stay (mostly) out of trouble—until it finds her in a big way.

I absolutely love that magic here has a scent, from a hint of maple syrup to a reek of burnt meat. And that her love interest, Bran, declares, “You are never more beautiful to me than when you fix my math.” And that Marnie starts to believe she could help change her country for the better.

A great voice, an interesting take on fantasy, a non-white hero and heroine, rich mix of traditional fable and myth, and lots of Austeneque language. This story also takes on colonialism. I loved this book so much. It was a delight from start to finish and I’ve gone on to read other books by this author and I went to a coffee talk at the World SF Convention in Dublin. I was so thrilled to meet her.

For those Regency romance purists and Georgette Heyer fans out there, it would be criminal to leave this tale off the list. Known as the Queen of Regency, Heyer weaves an interesting tale about two masters of disguise. Both brother and sister dress and conduct themselves as the opposite sex in this adventure! Do you enjoy witty banter? Me too! I love lighthearted, humorous moments, and I was not disappointed.

This book is very true to regency form in terms of language, vocabulary, and sentence structure. That being said, you’ll enjoy this book more if you already have a solid understanding of Regency societal rules and peerage, codes of conduct, etc.

Alexis Hall is the most well-known author on this list, and this sapphic Regency fantasy will not disappoint readers who like a Byronic love interest.

I loved the way the novel is narrated by the very opinionated Robin Goodfellow (aka “Puck”), who has been kicked out of the fairy court. Robin describes how Maelys Mitchelmore’s social life becomes complicated when an unknown ill-wisher curses her.

A chance encounter introduces her to the dark, brooding, and attractive Lady Georgianna Landrake, who helps Maelys discover and defeat her adversary. But Lady Georgianna suffers from her own family curse, and magical forces nearly tear the two lovers apart.

It takes courage, wisdom, and the help of Maelys’ friends to free Lady Georgianna and allow love to triumph. 

Gothic stories are some of my favorite, especially when paired with the English countryside. This one entangles relationships that are sometimes tricky to navigate—much like real life, which I really appreciated. Truth is timeless, and I find that I often learn lessons from historical fiction that help me in my contemporary life. Such is the case for The Vanishing at Loxby Manor. I love how misunderstandings are cleared up between the characters for a very satisfying ending.

More Jane Eyre than Jane Austen.

Helena of Rivenloch is a feisty, sword-wielding wench who refuses to be tamed by any man.

When an unsuitable suitor wishes to wed her younger sister, Helena attempts to slay the bridegroom, abducts his right-hand man, and demands her sister’s freedom. But her plans go awry when her captive captures her fiery, rebellious heart.

I loved how Helena was as fierce a fighter as any knight, capable of capturing Sir Colin du Lac. I loved her independent, fierce spirit, as she forged her own destiny. And I especially loved the passionate romance that bloomed between Helena and Colin, who respected her as his equal as she won his heart.

Eloisa James has long been one of my favourite authors, and I love her witty stories in the Regency romance genre, as well as her friends-to-lovers and second-chance tropes in this story. 

The hero, James, had always cared about the heroine, Theodora, who is known in London society as The Ugly Duchess. She wasn’t ugly–just “mannish” and dressed by her mother in a way that didn’t capitalize on her looks.

I liked the fact that she grew in herself and that her transition wasn’t instant. I also loved that James didn’t fall in love with her simply because of her looks but because of her capabilities and her growth in personal confidence.  

In my youth, the “Age of Discovery” launched by Columbus’s 1492 arrival in the “New World” and perpetuated by European imperialism through the mid-20th century, was characterized as a “civilizing mission.”

McClintock’s superb interdisciplinary scholarship provides a markedly different assessment of settler colonialism, a global order that legitimates white, male control of colonized women and men. Attained by violence, these stratified systems are sustained through capitalist economic relations secured by “voluntary” contract.

The book illuminates how the invention of race not only enabled European men to own and manage 85% of the earth’s surface by the end of the 19th century but also police the “dangerous classes,” the working class, the Irish, Jews, prostitutes, feminists, gays and lesbians, criminals, and anti-imperialists within their own nations.