100 books like The Idea of You

I loved that this book’s inciting incident is the toppling of a many-tiered wedding cake of a British royal couple. The cause? The immature tussling of a prince and the U.S. president’s son? (Adults, mind you. They’re adults) And because of that, they have to pretend to be friends, pals, buddies.

And as with most fake-relationship-themed books, the fake friendship soon turns into real love. Even though both Alex and Henry are outrageously advantaged individuals, I saw them as people—people in love—and not as a representation of their class.

Perhaps the thing I love most about McQuiston’s writing is the idealism and hopefulness she brings to the story. The obstacles Alex and Henry must overcome are literally international and yet, she can boil their love down to the simplest of gestures—and make it seem realistic.

I could actually list all of Fisher’s romances or her newer psychological thrillers under this banner of writing that is outside the box. She has taken the idea of “writing fearlessly” and run with it. Lives by it. There is nothing typical about Mud Vein, with prose that feels like mild electric shocks to the brain one minute and brings you to tears the next. It reads as though Fisher doesn’t waste time questioning herself or second-guessing her words—they’re alive and vibrant, and that’s highly aspirational. I have "write fearlessly" literally tattooed on my body, so I take it seriously. ;) 

Look. I could tell you it’s a modern-day gothic. I could tell you it wields its heresy to illuminate the true meaning of God. I could tell you she writes with the clarity of an imprisoned martyr watching the pyre being assembled outside her window. But, really, I just want you to know that I read Sierra Simone with a goofy smile on my face, marveling at how she makes the bonkers believable. She’s a surreal realist. There’s an energy here that’s simply unmatched. The book vibrates. And if you make it through Priest, might I suggest her New Camelot trilogy, which tackles the only thing more sacred than the Catholic church: the American presidency.

I really loved these characters that pushed and pulled me throughout the story. I found myself engrossed in their lives, loves, and moments that could make or break them, and I found myself hopelessly in love with them, never wanting this story to end.

I recommended this book to my book club, and each member enjoyed this book as well.

This novel is a taboo, student-teacher, forbidden love read, but those are tag words only. I’m a little obsessed with it because the writing. This book is alive. It's electric. The words jump off the page and sink claws into your skin. The author, at the end, laments that she's not poet enough to write her hero’s poems. I beg to differ. This entire book is a poem if you go by my preferred definition, which is a string of words meant to evoke. That's all this book does. Evokes, stirs, and is unapologetic in its heroine, Layla. She is no blushing rose, but a tornado of unapologetic desire, and who defies genre tropes. Her character renders this book more than a romance novel, but a force of nature.

Shifter romances aren’t new, but this heart-wrenching story about a boy and his adoptive “pack” sets the standard. The prose reads like a simple, placid little pond and then you jump in and realize it's miles deep. Klune does what my hero, Stephen King, is so darn good at and what I aspire to do in my own paranormal novels: he imbues the story with characters that live and breathe and feel like real people. This makes the supernatural aspects of the plot feel authentic and keeps you absorbed from page one to the end.

This enemies-to-lovers story about a romance writer and a literary fiction writer who strike a bet to write their next book in each other’s genre blew me away with its hilarious dialogue and realistic emotional stakes.

January struggles to write another Happily Ever After upon learning her recently deceased father had a secret life with another woman. She goes to deal with his beach house, only to find that her college writing rival is her neighbor for the summer.

As part of Gus and January’s renewed rivalry, they go on a series of dates to teach each other about their genre, and they develop mutual professional respect that bleeds into attraction.

One highlight is when they write flirty notes and hold them up through their neighboring windows. This is a true rom-com, so hilarious and sexy, but it commits to realism and reaches for heavy, heart-wrenching emotional stakes and the… show more.

I enjoy a story where a woman rethinks her life and tries to decide if the path she is on is the right path.

Diana O’Toole is a woman who thinks she knows what she wants, but as the book goes on, she begins to rethink everything. I had a career that I loved but left it when I had my children. After my kids became more independent, I had to figure out the second chapter of my life and where I wanted my career to go.

Having choices in life is very important and sometimes we put ourselves into a corner and don’t realize we can make different decisions. 

You like your small, introspective, architecture-of-a-marriage stories? Well, here’s the Romance version. Nothing really happens, plot-wise. It is simply a masterclass of two characters matched in every way that matters, ready to destroy everything they could potentially have because they’re scared of getting hurt. Humorous. Hot. Nerdy. Incisive. Affecting. This will introduce you to the basic foundation of Historical Romance—essentially, “the marriage plot”—in the quiet way you’re looking for.

While I could recommend any Loretta Chase novel and dare you to tell me you couldn’t spin at least a bread loaf-length lecture out of her style, I think you should start with Mr. Impossible, simply because the setting is as unique as her prose. We have a himbo and a genius running around Egypt in 1822 trying to rescue her kidnapped brother from the clutches of monument-thieving imperialists. Mind her character work. Note her humor. Her research. Her specificity. Her turn of phrase. Bring your highlighter. Or whatever instrument of self-loathing you use when another writer is so good at what they do it makes you want to give up.