Fans pick 100 books like Spencerville

Dean Koontz doesn’t need an introduction, nor does he need a shout-out, but this book stuck out to me in my younger days. While it may not fall into the same classifications as my previous recommendations, it may have been the first book I read about an average, not entirely special, person with a unique ability he doesn’t understand.

I read this book 20 years ago and still think about it often. The concept of seeing death and knowing when someone is about to die is just an intriguing—and terrifying—prospect. How do you deal with that? Especially knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop it? And then, what do you do when you start seeing Death everywhere? Do you fight it or run for the hills?

I loved this book because the story and characters in it were so fascinating, and I learned a lot about the history of the time and how ordinary people lived. Although the book is a hefty tome, I really didn’t want it to end. I couldn’t put it down and read the whole book in a couple of days. I was so delighted when Ken Follett wrote a sequel.

I loved how Follett weaved the stories of ordinary people around what was happening with the kings and queens of the day. I also loved how he created strong female characters in an era where you would not expect to find such characters. Pillars of the Earth inspired me to write historical fiction and lit a passion for history within me.

The Jack Reacher character is arguably the best-known protagonist in the mystery thriller genre. In most novels I’ve ever read, the main character has a character arc where the protagonist learns from his adventures, trials, and tribulations and becomes a better person (or in some cases the opposite). Whatever the trajectory, the character changes over time, but in Lee Childs’ books, the Jack Reacher character never changes. Reacher is your quintessential flat line – nothing phases him and nothing ever changes him. He's a drifter, who walks the USA with a toothbrush in one pocket and an ATM card in the other. Reacher likes to stay out of trouble, but he’s not afraid to confront it either when it finds him. It's very hard not to like Jack Reacher and it's even harder not to like Lee Childs books (he's written 27 so far). I always read a Jack Reacher… show more.

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.

I enjoy prayer and its importance in elevating me above circumstances. As I faced the difficulties of marriage, this book gave me hope and a way of positively moving forward. The depth of understanding of a husband's issues allows for prayer on a different level. Each chapter gave more insight as you prayed for your husband and yourself.

I never underestimate the power of prayer to change people, circumstances, and especially you. This book redirects your efforts to release the burdens and see your spouse and your situation differently.

While Come With Me has less paranormal in its blend, the book’s recipe is chock-full of foreboding suspense, eerie folklore, amateur sleuthing, and contemporary issues. Aaron Decker’s wife is tragically killed in a mass shooting. After five years of marriage, he thinks he knew her. But then he finds her padlocked hope chest. Inside are files about unsolved murders, all women victims. Is a serial killer on the loose? And why or how was his wife involved? Aaron follows the trail she left behind. Goosebumps suggest he’s not alone. Or are they from the dark secrets he unveils? Aaron’s narration is authentic and close—so close that readers eavesdrop on him speaking directly to his dead wife. Incredibly raw. Come With Me is masterful at building atmospheric and emotional tension.

This book explores the themes of loss, grief, and fidelity to one’s marriage, even once that relationship is unraveling. The prose is precise, and the narrator’s inner life is seemingly transparent. At the same time, it’s a mystery: why did the narrator’s husband disappear while doing research for a book on mourning rituals in southern Greece? And why does she hide the secret of their marital separation—and her new life with a new man—from her mother-in-law, who insists she track down her son, Christopher?

The narrator seeks out her soon-to-be ex at her mother-in-law's command, only to discover a tragic event. The ties to a failing love and a distant family are strengthened and the reader’s expectations upended. I loved how Kitamura took existential issues and boiled them down into a deceptively quiet story.

There is something in the way this author writes that always hooks me. Every single time I read one of her novels, I’m left with a feeling of…nothing else will be as good. You know that feeling right? There are so many twists in this story, some I didn’t see coming, that not only had me reading way too late at night, but nothing else I picked up the next day grabbed my attention like this book did. To me, that’s the perfect book-hangover to have.

I was so tired of books that follow a formula with every author trying to imitate whoever had a bestseller that week when I picked this up. Nothing was what I expected! This was a totally character-driven book and so realistic with regard to how people actually behave and feel instead of contrived dialogue and predictable reactions. I could clearly visualize each and every person in this novel and the character development was superb. On top of that, the plot just didn’t quit! You will never believe the ending. 

Popular culture is littered with new archetypes of wifehood, both enacted (the “MILF,” the “trad wife,” the “Mormon Wife”) and aspirational (“I’m Looking for a Man in Finance”). 

Leonard’s highly accessible book provides a way of thinking about this taken-for-granted category and places it in a range of critical and historical contexts. One of the most important contributions she makes is to track the emergence of the “professional wife” as a new status designation and revenue raising identity.