99 books like The Unbelieved

Okay, you've almost certainly heard of this one. You might even be thinking that The Husband's Secret is a more obvious choice for this list. But I'm including BLL anyway because I couldn't believe how enthralling it was (even though I've been a Liane Moriarty fan since The Hypnotist's Love Story).

Many of the entries on this list have depicted a marriage that looks perfect from the outside but is rotten within. This book inverts this formula, or at least complicates it—Celeste thinks her marriage is perfect (or is telling herself she thinks that), but it's obvious from the reader's outside perspective that her husband is an abuser.

There are many intriguing threads woven through this story (all coming together in a showdown so satisfying that I read it several times), but the scenes with Perry are the most impressive. They left me sick with fear.

Tiverton, the setting for this book, is a typical outback small town—derelict houses, one pub, a harsh landscape, and a policeman back in uniform after a corruption scandal back in the big city. Hirsch’s patrol area is huge and he’s often as much a social worker as a police officer. He’s an outcast in all senses of the word, but his dogged determination to do his job right leads him into all sorts of trouble. I love the setting, the endless roads, the eccentricities of people living in the back of nowhere, and the murder mystery that takes you where you (and Hirsch) least expect it.

I love a good historical crime novel that’s set within a time I almost remember. It’s 1966 and Mick Goodenough arrives in Moorabool, demoted and depressed to be back. We all know killers often start by killing animals, so a dead, tortured dog raises Mick’s alert level, even though it’s dismissed by the other cops. A lone woman starts receiving weird, whistling phone calls and from there, the tension gradually racks up. Mick Goodenough has all the qualities I enjoy in a detective—intelligence, good hunches, and he loves his dogs.

I’ve never been to Broome in northwest Australia, but it’s renowned for the heat, the flies, and the beaches—but look out for crocodiles. I enjoyed Warner’s previous novel based on a series of murders in Perth in the 90s that, back then, had never been solved, so it was great to see his two detectives get together on a case that eventually circles back to the Perth killings. There’s something about the past catching up with us that I enjoy as a plot and character strength, and this book moves between past and present really effectively. The landscape is so barren that it’s almost like being on another planet!

Humour done well in crime fiction is rare, I think, and this novel has plenty. I think you would call it a caper, with things constantly going wrong for Jac, the main character, in bizarre and amusing ways, but Draga, her Croatian housekeeper is hilarious. Draga’s solutions to fixing things are not what any sensible person might agree to, but Jac is desperate. She even resorts to using Draga’s favourite broom herself at one point. This one will keep you on the edge of your seat, yes, but you might also fall off it laughing. I’m hoping there will be a sequel.

I had the opportunity to listen to Karin Slaughter speak at the Bouchercon Conference in St. Pete, Florida and this was her new release.

The book sounded wonderful, and my signed copy is on my keeper shelf. Pieces of Her has a crazy, explosive opening and breakneck pace with questions that pile on questions, and we hold on for dear life. I was so enthralled by this story that I bought a second copy for a friend and put it in her hands saying, “You have to read this.” She loved it and so did Netflix because it is now a series. 

The premise of the crime-thriller is fascinating: an all-female therapy group meets to share their pain at the abuse and murder of their sisters by their partners/husbands.

The justice system failed to prosecute the killers and the women pursue their own form of justice. They hatch a plan to kill the men who murdered their sisters. The author masterfully establishes how the female victims of abuse find themselves trapped and isolated by their abuser and why they find it so hard to leave them, even when their life is in danger.

Will the sisters who want revenge get away with it?

Holly appears to have a perfect life, living in a beautiful house, lunching with friends, married to handsome Zach, a hospital doctor.

But gradually we discover that Holly’s life is one of fear: she is a victim of gaslighting. If Holly dares to cross Zach, the cruel, sadistic narcissist shows itself. One of the chapters that sent shivers down my spine was when Zach punishes Holly when she is at her most vulnerable – in the birthing suite.

He sabotages the delivery of their daughter, causing Holly to need a C-section, all because, earlier, Holly left some shoes on the floor and Zach tripped over them.

For much of the book we wonder if Holly will ever be free of her abusive husband, but the author creates a wonderful ending which had me clapping my hands with delight.

This laugh-out-loud crime mystery has a special place for me because I read it not long after migrating to Australia and, through the lead character, Murray Whelan (a political staffer who spends his time digging himself in and out of holes), I was not only introduced to Australian humour but also to a new way of viewing Melbourne, its politics, establishments, and suburbs. In Stiff, as with Shane Maloney's other books in this series, the city landscape is as much a character as Murray Whelan himself, and this sense of place adds a richness to the story that would be missing if it were merely treated as a backdrop.

Sometimes a book comes completely out of nowhere. Such was the case with Trevor Conomy’s Down Under. Conomy was not an author with a pedigree in music journalism or anything like that, but when Down Under came out, in 2015, it spoke for itself. The life story of a song – Melbourne pub band Men At Work’s “Down Under” – what makes the book compelling is not so much the story of its fluky success, when in 1982 it become a huge hit all round the world, but rather the aftermath: How more than a quarter-century later the song went to court against a copyright infringement claim. That it lost the case was a travesty and a human tragedy, and Conomy’s short, punchy little book reveals why in all its gory detail.