Fans pick 57 books like The Inheritance Trilogy

From the moment I first began listening to the audiobook, I fell in love with this story. I was all in the moment Ryland Grace stumbled through answering the question “What is 2 plus 2?” The layering of the story, the threat to Earth concept, the educational presentation of very high-level scientific concepts to an audience of all ages, and the way Andy Weir made this reader feel so many emotions over a rock just keep drawing me back to it.

I literally just finished another listen less than a month ago and already want to go back to a story. I still don’t see many people talking about it. And the ending? Every story has its own perfect dismount landing, and this one nailed it.

I recommend this book because it is my favorite modern sci-fi series. What gripped me with this was the overall premise of the story.

This story starts with the curtain being dropped for the book’s MC, and he realizes his life is not what it seems and his people are nothing more than slaves for a higher order. He sets out to change that. It is an amazing story that took the battle-school trope that I loved in Ender’s Game to a whole new level. I instituted the trope into my book and feel it has a good balance between the YA version of Ender’s Game and the very mature version of Red Rising.

This is my first foray into actual science fantasy, and it definitely influenced my work.

We all love second chances, or at least the idea of them, fantasizing about the life we could have lived if we could do it all over again. This book reads like pure wish-fulfillment initially, with senior citizens having their minds transferred to cloned and upgraded young bodies and sent off to fight aliens.

And this book definitely hits me harder as I get older. But a second chance is also no guarantee that you’ll be any wiser (or luckier) this time around. Still, all in all, yeah, I’d be down for a super version of me that gets to fly around the universe.  

On Earth, Hari Michaelson is the most famous actor in the world stuck under the ceiling of a rigid caste system. When he teleports to Overworld, he’s Caine, a notorious assassin who the people of Earth watch remotely and cheer on. What I love most about Caine and Heroes Die is the pure audacity. From the cheesy cover art to the excessively violent narrative, author Matthew Stover holds nothing back. Even in audiobook format, the deep, gruff, masculine voice of Stefan Rudnicki is comically spot on. This book, and Caine, is ridiculous in the best way.

The world-building in The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms explores how the powering of societies can come at a human cost—though in this case, the humans have outsourced that cost to the gods. Enslaved by the Arameri aristocratic family that rules over the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, gods and godlings power the Arameri’s control of the city of Sky, allowing the city to flourish but at the expense of the common people’s or the gods’ agency. Compared to the other books listed here, this tale is more concerned with the structures of class and authority (and less so utility) that help turn the gears of society, but its examinations of these aspects of civics are still insightful and, ultimately, optimistic.

I love how weird and dark this book is. Carolyn and her siblings were raised by their abusive, adopted father, who trained them each in a single portfolio of magic.

When their father goes missing, Carolyn and her allies explore the truth of his disappearance. I was with Carolyn every step of the way of her journey to claw back her identity from her abusive past. And I can’t stop thinking about the explosive ending, even years after I first read the book.

I’m drawn to fantasy stories set in modern-day analogues because I’m fascinated to see the ways that having magic and monsters as a fact of life would shape a world from the ground up. I’m particularly interested in the impact on more mundane matters like legal contracts and labor disputes. Perhaps no one dives into this topic with as much gusto as Max Gladstone. In Three Parts Dead, we meet necromantic lawyers and witness the legal and practical repercussions of a god’s death. In lesser hands, this could easily slump into tedious details, or the intricacies might be forgotten in an attempt to ramp up the action. But Gladstone finds the perfect balance, keeping abstract concepts engaging while presenting action scenes that carry true consequences. The city of Alt Coulumb is one of my favorite fantasy settings, and the entire Craft Sequence is well-worth reading.

Since the first page, I have not been able to stop thinking about Whitten’s gorgeously immersive world.

With a main character named Red and something about a wolf, you may think that this is just another Little Red Riding Hood rewriting…but it is so much more. A magical murderous forest, prophesies, blood pacts, destiny, love—all the things I already knew I loved, but then add even more—haunted trees, a twisting sickness caused by shadow, and two sisters fighting to determine their own fate.

This last aspect lends a specialness to Whitten’s novel and reminds me of my favorite novels growing up. These are not your average princesses. For the Wolf teeters on that edge between NA and adult, and the language alone is worth the read!

Dianna and Liam, two immortals, struggle to free themselves from their past and the expectations of their future. But when they join forces, they realise their future might be the same.

This book was amazingly written with the perfect balance of a great story and complex, morally grey characters. I especially love how Dianna does bad things to protect the one she loves and has an excuse for everything.

My mind was blown when I encountered the work of Philippe Druillet in the mid-1970s. This French cartoonist is considered one of the greatest of them all, creating alien worlds of startling originality and stupefying grandeur. Fifty years later, his work is as startling and original as it appeared back then.

No one has surpassed his ability to depict scenes of such mind-boggling scale and otherworldliness, as if he had a unique glimpse of some higher realm. As a young cartoonist, I was strongly influenced by Druillet, who inspired me with his demonstration of what it was possible to achieve in the comic book form. His work is not drug-oriented but depicts the sort of visions those who take hallucinogens would hope to experience.