91 books like The Lost Child

This is a Gothic suspense classic, but the suspense is gradual in the most delicious way. The book begins with a 1930s meet-cute in which a young paid companion to a rich and unpleasant woman meets a wealthy, unhappy widower at a resort. The young woman befriends the man while her employer is bedridden with a cold, and the two share some funny and touching moments.

The Gothic part comes when he unexpectedly proposes marriage, and they return to his gargantuan family estate, Manderley, which was formerly run by his late wife, Rebecca. Now, the spookiness permeates the story, from the shadowy corners of the mansion to the constant watchfulness of the very creepy housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers. Rebecca has been in print for almost a hundred years, and that alone is evidence of its awesomeness.

In this modern feminist era, Maxim DeWinter might seem horribly patriarchal, but it’s utterly believable… show more.

Another incredible rewriting of Wuthering Heights and one that’s as dark and Gothic as Emily’s momentous original. In Ill Will, Michael Stewart picks up Emily’s narrative at the point when Heathcliff, having heard Cathy declare that it would degrade her to marry him, departs the Heights. Stewart unravels the tale of where Heathcliff went during the three years that he was missing from Cathy’s world and imagines what happened to him to make him return in such a vengeful guise. Ill Will is also a rewriting that takes up the issue of race, for here, Heathcliff is a young black man and his departure from the Heights prompts him to trace Mr. Earnshaw’s walk to Liverpool in the hope of finding out who he is. 

This is probably the most powerful example of literary pastiche novels I’ve read, not just because it takes on one of the most beloved novels in English literature—Jane Eyre—but because it brutally turns that novel’s premises on their gentrified heads.

I am truly awed by how vibrantly Rhys inhabits Antoinette, Rochester’s doomed wife, weaving in themes of colonialism and gendered power into Charlotte Brontë’s Gothic romance and, in the process, making it a kind of subversive and gritty feminist and anti-colonial manifesto.

Rhys’s depiction of Antoinette’s descent into madness is so visceral and believable that you are (or at least I am) all but cheering as she literally burns the patriarchy to the ground. I also love that while it’s generally considered Rhys’s masterpiece, she wrote it in her seventies. 

Tracy Chevalier edited this incredible anthology of short fiction to mark the bicentenary of Charlotte Brontë’s birth. Comprising contributions from sixteen authors, including Helen Dunmore, Sally Vickers, Susan Hill, Emma Donoghue, and Audrey Niffenegger, among others, these incredible stories are far more than fan fiction. Indeed, while the anthology’s title is the infamous first line of the final chapter of Charlotte Brontë’s novel, don’t be fooled into thinking that this is a romantic collection, for Chevalier’s contributors may take inspiration from Jane Eyre, but they rework it in a huge variety of ways, producing stories that unsettle as much as they celebrate Brontë’s novel. And if you like that, the companion volume, I Am Heathcliff edited by Kate Mosse, operates in the same spirit but is dedicated to Wuthering Heights.

The Gentleman Bastards are a fun, exciting group with a connection that feels genuine throughout the story and has, by far, some of the best and most hilarious dialogue I've ever read in a book. I've also learned quite a bit about fantasy storytelling from this story, in that you can craft a compelling fantasy story without huge, world-changing stacks by making the characters emotionally motivated in their goal.

The mystery was also a pleasant surprise, as it incorporated clever clues and plot points that came together nicely for a satisfying conclusion. Actions and choices actually weighed in on the events.

The title offers an important hint that the focus isn’t solely on exterior events. In this sequel to The War That Saved My Life, World War II still rages across the English countryside, though Ada’s actually emotionally safer than she’d ever been when living with her mother. But memories of that time still give her terrible nightmares, and when a crisis makes her feel like they’re coming true, she discovers that there’s a big difference between fear and what you do with it. The horses, the lushly-depicted historical landscape, and a truly relatable and beautifully-wrought battle with the wars we carry inside make this a book I want to read over and over.

In a world where love is forbidden, witness the blossoming of an epic love story. As someone who rarely enjoys romance novels, Lauren Oliver’s Delirium hooked me in and had me finish in less than two days. Oliver has a way with words that left me feeling every emotion the main character felt, and had me diving into the second book the moment I finished the first. It’s a beautiful dystopian, and was the first book I read that got me hooked on the genre. If you are a fan of The Hunger Games, then you’ll love Delirium!

Do not be put off by the fact this book, and the others in the Sally Lockhart quartet, are often marketed as children’s/YA literature. Like the best of fiction, they transcend categorisation.

The Ruby in the Smoke introduces us to the indomitable Sally Lockhart, orphaned and forced to uncover the secret behind her father’s death. She’s feisty and fiercely independent, navigating her way in a world where the chips are stacked against her. Pullman provides us with an impeccably researched foray into the 1870s, all wrapped up in a hugely entertaining read. 

One of the wonderful things about Tomi Ungerer’s books is that the characters and stories are so unexpected. The pictures in The Three Robbers are powerful and beautiful, with lots of black at the beginning when the robbers are being monstrously bad and stealing from their hapless victims. But by the end of the story the blue, green, yellow, red, and white have taken over the pictures and the robbers’ hearts have been melted by a little orphan girl. It is a joyful story of robbers being reformed and doing good with all their ill-gotten gains. The colours themselves help so much in communicating the emotions of the story.

From the first page, Fatimah Asghar’s writing pulled me in. It is poetic, playful, and vulnerable.

The story is about three orphaned sisters living under the care of their uncle and figuring out how to relate to each other and the world. I loved the candid explorations of childhood, gender, and, most of all, sisterhood.