Fans pick 100 books like Sorcerer to the Crown

I loved the Nevernight books because the main character is not necessarily always a hero. Mia is an assassin and cares only about killing. This means it can be uncomfortable to support her decisions and actions when they involve so much death and bloodshed.

She kills for reasons that she thinks are justified, but that isn’t always right, and it is great to see her grow and become something more than just a killing machine. She has a great personality and endures many hardships through the series but I loved reading along and seeing how she overcame everything she faced.

I fell in love with the world-building in this series. Perhaps because the main setting itself is a character. Having an estate with a mind of its own (or at least a consciousness that doesn’t understand human propriety) makes for extra fun.

The slow-burn romance in the series kept me addicted because of how it highlighted the deliciousness of mixing magic and manners—in this case, the conflict between the fae making their presence known and human society trying to cope. Oh, and did I mention how many times I laughed while reading?

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.

In the nineteenth-century setting of Snowpelled, the proper role of a lady is politics, and magic is the domain of men. Cassandra Harwood is the one scandalous exception—but something’s gone wrong. At the start of the story, all we know is that even the simplest spell is now out of her reach.

The mystery unfolds as Cassandra attempts to outsmart an elf lord and avoid her (absolutely delightful) ex-fiancé, the latter task no less difficult than the former. 

I love third-person point of view, but one of the joys of this book is getting the story directly from Cassandra—a woman who became a magician by “utterly refusing to give up on my great plans until the world around me finally saw sense and accepted them.” 

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.

The best description of sainthood I have ever found. In The Curse of Chalion, Bujold starts from a world of visceral reality with a new religion based on family archetypes. 

In her world, these gods are real and play very specific roles within the society, and well-constructed prayer opens up a space for the gods to use one for their purposes. As the main character learns what it means to be a saint, to allow miracles to flow through him (as he says, “like a mule being whipped up the mountain pass”), we see the difference between supportive and unsupportive roles, how failure can lead one astray and how the journey home can be long and difficult. 

Warning: This book contains scenes and situations not suitable for children.

Shapeshifting lizard people. Oh. You want me to say something else?

How about... a world like no other, peopled by all manner of beings (but no humans, which is honestly a delight). The setting is so fantastic, but also so meticulously designed—every settlement and civilization feels organic, fully realized, and unlike anything else. But what about the story—?

Moon doesn't know where he's from, but he knows he's the only shapeshifter he's ever met, and the only person with wings...and worse, he thinks he's part of the terrible Fell, a species that seems to be invasive and hostile and looks a lot like him.

Then he meets another Raksura, and learns how wrong he's been about everything, including himself. 

I’ve been reading Glenda Larke for years and I beta-read for her a lot. This book is special to me because it was great to give feedback on the draft but also to wonder at her genius and writing process. The great cast of characters adhere to the heart, and I was behind each and everyone. The book also was up for a few awards and when Larke won, I was there to accept an award for her.

Whenever I see suddenly this remarkable book on my bookshelves, I wonder how the author, writing in later years of his life, was able of combining his practical experience in Africa with his theoretical engagement of Africa. The author narrates sympathetically how African political elites who embraced Western alien institutions and state ideals failed to reconsider the reconfiguration of the nation-state on their continent.

I was a lonely child and when I discovered my uncle’s childhood adventure books at my grandmother’s house I found a world of excitement, adventure, and bravery that thrilled me to the marrow. Although all the active characters in these books were male, I managed to insert my imaginary self into the tales of shipwrecks, daredevil flights, and chases through Amazon jungles as the protagonists bravely and indefatigably fought for survival. Martin Rattler was the first of these books I read and it’s still a breathtaking read, with plenty of moments when your heart is in your mouth and you are almost too scared to read on. I recommend it as a true heart-stopper. 

You may be shocked by some of the racist and sexist attitudes in Martin Rattler. It was written in the colonialist and intolerant England of the times, and I find it heartening that no one… show more.