28 books like The Pale Horse

I love this book for many reasons—its rural Southern setting, its lawyer/judge protagonist Deborah Knott, its twisty mystery. But I was particularly intrigued when author Margaret Maron told me that the spark for the book was a real unsolved murder near her North Carolina home. I wrote about the real case when it was finally solved in Triangle True Crime, but Margaret’s version of what might have happened is so much more interesting.

Nancy Pickard is one of my favorite authors, starting with her Jenny Cain series. The Whole Truth, featuring true-crime writer Marie Lightfoot, was a shift for her. The novel simultaneously follows Marie as she researches the case of a dangerous serial killer and as she writes about it, which gives an interesting insight into the difficulties of living in a world where crime is real.

I love to get into a good series and when the characters are unusual it adds much to the enjoyment. Ruth Galloway is someone totally unlike a detective or crime fighter and yet through her inquisitiveness and intelligence she finds herself involved in things other than teaching archaeology. Added to the crime aspect is the wee frisson of romance that develops throughout the series and the scene setting in a place that I don’t know at all is wonderful. A great introduction to a much-loved series. 

I first met Rumpole, the Old Bailey Hack, as he called himself, on the PBS Masterpiece series. John Mortimer’s books about the curmudgeonly old barrister are even more delightful. As a former trial attorney, I love how the collections of short stories in his books give me a peek inside the British legal system—and how they present plenty of puzzles to solve, filled with irascible good wit. 

This pick is probably the outlier of my list, and I’ll explain why. Berlin Noir is actually three books published as a compendium: March Violets, The Pale Criminal, and A German Requiem.

You can buy them individually, but I highly recommend you pick up the trilogy: spoiler alert, it’s 800 pages (with small print!) I’ve always been a fan of Kerr’s mind-bogglingly well-researched historical novels, and these three are, in my opinion, his best.

They are about a German detective, who is not a Nazi, attempting to survive and make a living just before, during, and just after WWII. Far, far more than a simple mystery (though the plot is fascinatingly complex, and elements and characters run through all three books, which is why I recommend the trilogy), the books are a treatise on good, evil, moral relativity, and survival under unimaginable circumstances in a country wracked by tyranny.… show more.

Published in 1934, this is Stead’s first novel, and its Modernistic portrayal of a loosely connected group of young men and women existing and interacting in a poverty-wracked but rapidly changing between-the-Wars Sydney caused a literary storm at the time. The City, caught between its Colonial heritage and its future as a modern Twentieth Century metropolis is the real star of the novel even as its seven bewildered, beleaguered characters roam its bay and suburbs, its libraries, university, and pubs, attempting to negotiate their changing city and their place in it. I couldn’t write a novel about Sydney without visiting Christina Stead’s Sydney first.

You know how, when you read a book that’s so clever, funny, and perfectly written you want to actually get to know the author? That’s what happened to me when I read this book. Even though I didn’t know him, I knew he’d be the kind of person that you hoped to run into at the bar—a generous man with a great sense of humor, a bright outlook, and plenty of great stories.  

We did eventually come to be friends in real life, too. It turned out that we’re practically neighbors and both enjoy the occasional glass of gin. True story.

I think Joe Moran is one of the most interesting authors writing about modern life. He is interested in the ordinary and the mundane, those things you might (probably would) miss if they weren’t drawn to your attention. This beautifully written book has sixteen chapters which begin with breakfast (do you know where the idea of a ‘full English’ came from?), and takes us on a journey that includes the morning commute, the changing status of the working lunch (increasingly now experienced as ‘dining al desko’) our evening eating and viewing habits, all the way through to turning in at the end of the day (when did we switch to duvets?). An easy read which in its own way is also quite profound.

To be fair, there is a love story featured in this novel, but it’s not at the heart of this tale. This is a historical piece full of captivating characterisation. Robin is a burly man who’s clumsy and unpopular in the small coastal town he lives in. But a horrendous storm is brewing, and Robin takes it upon himself to gather the townsfolk and get them to shelter at The Moth and Moon, the local pub. The world building is excellent. All characters are well realised. Most are eccentric. None are forgettable. And these elements make this tale truly charming.

The Red and the Black (or Le Rouge et le Noir) was published by French author Stendhal in 1830. The action across the two volumes takes place from 1814 to 1830, so the 1820s are included. The title refers to the two competing ambitions of the hero, Julien Sorel, who can’t decide whether he wants the glamour and excitement of a military career (red uniform) or the moral calm of life as a priest (black cassock). I was forced to read this in French at school and hated it, but when I returned to it in English years later I was completely absorbed by Julien’s struggles – although, to be honest, he’s a ghastly fellow and rather deserves his fate. It’s an epic, sweeping read and guaranteed to impress anyone French if you mention you’ve read it.