100 books like The Iron Hand of Mars

For those who like their conspiracy theories, it is hard not to be seduced by Ovid and David Wishart’s hard-boiled detective Marcus Corvinus.

Commissioned to bring back Ovid’s ashes, the author links the exile of the poet Ovid by the Emperor Augustus to the loss of the three legions under Varus. The book is notable both for the real sense that it gives how the defeat became one to be avoided in the polite society in Rome, but also for its generally sympathetic portrait of the Roman governor. Varus is corrupted and betrayed by Arminius, but he is not wholly incompetent. 

So closely does he follow what is known about the battle and its aftermath that Ben Kane’s trilogy about the Battle of Teutoburg Forest – Eagles of War, Hunting the Eagles, and Eagles in the Storm – blurs the line between fiction and historical fact and makes the reader feel that they are there.

He has a sympathetic hero in the centurion Lucius Tullus and he brings many of the historical characters to life. Aside from the vivid writing, what particularly stands out are the nods towards the archaeology of the battle and Roman Germany. 

Most novels that discuss the period take the perspective of the Romans. Fabbri’s Arminius is different in that he gets under the skin of Arminius and examines how and why he turned against Rome in a story told via his son.

This is a bold approach as the idea of Arminius as narrator/hero had become tainted after he became harnessed to German nationalism from the mid-19th century onwards. Fabbri’s approach is masterful. 

Published in the 1950s, at first glance The Three Legions looks like unashamed pulp, but it certainly deserves to be remembered.

The story itself follows what was known of the battle at the time via the tribune Claudius Cinna – a thinly disguised Lucius Eggius. While the archaeology can feel dated, the writing rises above pulp. Solon himself was a tail gunner in the US airforce in World War II and both the depictions of army life as well as the descriptions of battle are particularly vivid. 

I highly recommend every mystery Sayers has written. She’s my kind of author — articulate, inspiring, a writer who writes about her surroundings with a realism that allows a reader to enter and learn more: In this book, death by the ringing of church bells in a small English village.

She’s complex but delivers layers of life and death with profound simplicity and understanding. The daughter of a minister, an advertising copywriter, a poet, she graduated from Oxford and used her life experiences to color every page she wrote.

I love her spunk and the exciting way she has written. But mostly, I love her monocled amateur sleuth, Lord Peter Whimsey who exploded on her typewriter in her first mystery.

A retro pulp-fiction novel from one of the world’s best-selling authors, David Baldacci.

A Gambling Man is the second intriguing story in Baldacci’s Archer Series about a former WWII veteran working as a private detective. Archer is joined en route to Los Angeles by a beautiful young lady with ambitions in Hollywood who leads them into dangerous territory with murderous gangsters and politicians trying to improve the odds in their favour.

Baldacci’s Archer Series is modeled on the early detective stories of authors like Raymond Chandler and Mickey Spillane. He creates a tough guy detective in the style of the early masters while making Archer more appealing to modern readers – less macho and more respectful of the independent women joining his fight to stop the death and destruction. 

Another writer-hero, Anthony Horowitz writes as himself in this page-turning whodunit. Well-known for his television work on Midsomer Murders, Poirot, and Foyle’s War, Horowitz knows how to craft a mystery. When ex-cop turned private investigator Nathaniel Hawthorne approaches Horowitz about ghostwriting a book about his cases, Horowitz isn’t interested. Annoying and eccentric, Hawthorne isn’t someone Horowitz wants to be around, let alone write about. But when a famous actor’s wealthy mother is murdered six hours after planning her own funeral, Horowitz gets pulled into the investigation anyway. Though very much a Sherlock Holmes and Watson relationship, Hawthorne and Horowitz are more adversarial, making them an entertaining team. You want them to be friends, but then again, you don’t. The word isn’t just murder, but funny, engaging, and endearing, too.  

I read this 1933 mystery novel as a teen, and it might have begun my love affair with the hero in disguise. In this book, we meet Death Bredon, a newly hired copywriter at Pym’s Publicity. We know, of course, that he is Lord Peter Wimsey in disguise, but we don’t know why the aristocratic amateur detective is pretending to be a working Joe.

The mystery is flawless; the ad agency setting is delightful; the banter is witty; and the climactic cricket match, in which our disguised hero lets his mask slip, is delicious.

In this historical mystery set in the 1920s, the hero-narrator is likable and a bit goofy. He reminded me of Bertie Wooster in the Jeeves stories by PG Wodehouse, but Heathcliff is more intelligent. The mystery was complicated and puzzling, with added fun from the 1920s setting. It’s hard to investigate when phone lines are down and roads become impassable in poor weather. I've read the rest of the series, and they’re all pretty strong. Some move the action to Scotland or Egypt for extra 1920s travel excitement. They’re perfect reads when you want a light cozy with historical charm and some chuckles along the way.

One thing I really like about this mystery novel is the way it is told from multiple points of view, which is a very unusual technique in mystery fiction. That’s one reason that it felt, to me, so much like a literary novel.

The first character is a brilliant, tortured artist named Margot, who is already dead at the start of the novel. The second character is Kate, an ex-cop turned P.I. who is hired to find Margot’s killer. 

Both women are compelling, interesting characters, but I especially liked the way Kenna renders the hero, Kate. She’s a single mom in recovery from a drug addiction. Her ex is a creep, and most of her old (male) cop colleagues are, too. Her struggle in solving the case felt completely real and human to me. And that’s the signature quality of literary fiction.