44 books like The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharp

This is the cleverest, funniest, best Sherlock Holmes homage ever. It’s Montana, 1893, and I’m watching the red-headed Amlingmeyer brothers, down-on-their-luck ranch hands, entertain themselves reading Holmes stories in Harper’s Weekly.

Big Red, the younger brother, is reading to his older brother, Old Red (all of 27). Old Red might be illiterate, but I’ll match his “detectifyin’” skills with Holmes’ any day. I love Big Red’s reluctant but loyal acceptance of his role as Watson as the two cowpokes deal with stampedes, mysterious deaths, and cowboys named Puddin-foot and Swivel-eye.

No matter what Big Red tells him, Old Red doesn’t quite believe the Holmes stories are fiction. But I believe Hockensmith’s stories are exactly what Mark Twain would have written if he’d come up with this brilliant idea.

Now I’m torn. Agnes Sharp and her housemates are delightful, but a friend of mine tells me that I am Joyce in this book. This series is one of the best I’ve read in the past few years, and this book is one of the best ones in the series.

I’ll gladly join septuagenarians Elizabeth (could she have worked for Scotland Yard?), Ibrahim (a psychologist), Ron (a brawling socialist organizer), and Joyce (gentle and perhaps not as naïve as she seems) at their posh retirement village as they discuss unsolved crimes each Thursday. And I’m definitely there to solve the murder of that local developer. No way the villain will get away from this brilliant gang of sleuths. 

I’m more likely to read mysteries with cats than with dogs, so when I enthuse over one of the latter, my recommendation can be trusted. I listened to this book, and it was love at first bite. It was my first earful.

The book is narrated by Chet, a failed police dog trainee. He partners with Bernie, a failing private eye, whom Chet sees as the best, bravest, smartest PI ever. Except for maybe where money is concerned or when it comes to things like Hawaiian shirts. Or Hawaiian pants. I’m with Chet on the Hawaiian pants. What was Bernie thinking? But I’ve never met a more loyal dog or well-meaning PI, and no matter what trouble they have along the way, Chet and Bernie win the day.  

I’ve always thought bleached bones are beautiful (there’s a cow skull on the window seat behind me), but imagine my surprise when I fell in love with a walking, talking, wise-cracking human skeleton. That’s what happened when I read this book.

Sid, the skeleton in question, is the literal skeleton in Georgia Thackery’s family closet. She’s known him since she was a child. Neither of them knows why he’s still “alive” or how he died.

I’m jealous because Georgia has a skeleton for a best friend. They make up for that, though, by being a very funny pair of amateur detectives. And lucky for me, they appear in five more books and a short story. 

This 1988 anthology provides fifty stories, dating from the medieval period to the last century: from central and eastern Europe, the Middle East, and across northern Africa.

Although we find "possession" in several of the narratives, we do not find the ibbur. Nevertheless, some of the demons who take possession of the living are truly evil, and perhaps thus similar to the dybbuk in that regard. Many of the selections read almost like fairy tales, although not all have a "happy ending."

This is by no means a source for the ibbur, but it is a nice introduction to the Jewish supernatural. A few tales are actually rather profound, though most are quite simple. Those unfamiliar with this aspect of Jewish culture might find Schwartz’s anthology a nice place to begin.

The sweeping views of Stargazer Springs Ranch are enough to make me want to visit! It certainly helps that we are first introduced to the ranch through an FMC who is also a photographer and her enthusiasm for the vistas shines brightly. Quaint little cabins, horses, wide-open spaces, and a fishing river set the mood for sweet romance so well. I could spend ages on the ranch discovering each little nook and cranny as the author drops little tidbits for the reader. The ranch house sounds like such a fun place to hang out after a hard day’s work, and with more pies at Thanksgiving than people, you can count me in! I do wish we got to see a bit more of the animals, but I suspect that the more of the series I read, the more will be revealed. I need another trip to Stargazer Springs ASAP!

Dante Valentine is a Necromance who works as an investigator for the police—solving murders by conjuring up the spirit of the dead person then asking, ‘Hey, who did this?’ Like Jim Butcher, Lilith blends humour and action, and she locates her stories in a unique futuristic/fantasy world in which demons wear black jeans. These books are afire with narrative energy and also brim with passion and love and eroticism. Dante Valentine is a superb kick-ass heroine and if you like a walk on the dark side, I’d warmly recommend the five volumes in this series. 

First published in 1956 Dion Fortune recalls her heroine Vivian le Fay, first introduced in The Sea Priestess fifteen years earlier.

In Moon Magic she is conjured as Lilith le Fay, mysterious and alluring. Interestingly, considering Dion Fortune died before finishing the book, its completion was brought about by an acolyte ‘channeling the author’ after her death. 

Her play on the dynamic of the male and female polarity allows the story to evolve on different levels, as an interesting, if dated view of a society in need of a spiritual revelation, and a treatise on genuine esoteric practices. Fortune’s clipped prose style gives the reader's imagination free rein, allowing her to influence our understanding of certain concepts and provide an entertaining tale to boot.

Claire is an irreverent delight in person, but you won’t see much of that persona in her stories – this book is heavy with gooey and bizarre body horror that always has a deeply personal context for her characters.

She’s admitted that writing is a vehicle for talking about her epilepsy, but you don’t need to share that with her to relate to the strange changes that take place on her pages.

This is just her first collection, an opening salvo across the bow of Australian horror, so it will be interesting indeed to see how her work evolves and metamorphosises over time – to meet the creature that crawls, slime-slicked and hungry, from the casing of her next books.

The 19th-century Scottish writer George MacDonald is said to be the father of the modern fairy tale, inspiring C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, and many others. I chose The Light Princess because I find it his most charming tale: it's about a princess under a wicked spell who has been made weightless, unable to obey the laws of gravity. As in all good fairy tales, a prince eventually comes along to drag her back down to earth. He must sacrifice himself for her, but in the end, it is she who rescues him – from a feminist perspective, a most gratifying conclusion.