100 books like The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club

Unlike so many heroines of historical mysteries who had dangerous jobs in the Great War—usually a spy, courier, or battlefield nurse—I found Iris Cooper refreshingly average, but not boring. She’s sailing from England to America after a round-the-world tour with her aunt. When a man dies in a deck chair, Iris searches for answers about his identity. I especially liked the fact that Iris used her shorthand and typing skills to become part of the ship-board inquiry into the death and holds her own with the panel, which is basically an old boy’s club. The parade of suspects is catnip for a mystery reader like me and includes a voluptuous film star, a mysterious professor studying criminology, a handsome musician, and an enthusiastic newspaper reporter. I enjoyed watching Iris come into her own as a sleuth and find a little romance along the way.

I’m always onboard for a mystery set in the exclusive circles of London society, and Freddy Pilkington-Soames, a young gentleman in 1920s London, is just the ticket when I want a fun, lighthearted read. Freddy’s mother ropes him into helping clear away a bothersome little matter, a dead body in her front hall. Before Freddy quite knows what’s happened, he’s interviewing suspects and tracking down clues. Although Clara Benson is a modern author, I love how she’s captured the tone and language of the lighter Golden Age mystery romps. A Case of Blackmail in Belgravia’s is breezy and lighthearted. It’s fun to be swept along with Freddy as he tries to untangle a web of blackmail among society’s upper crust.

When I read in the book description of Come Hell or Highball that Lola survived on “highballs, detective novels, and chocolate layer cake,” I was so in. I can root for a sleuth who loves mysteries and chocolate layer cake. The book has an American setting, which I find is a nice change from the mostly European-focused books of this time period. After her no-good playboy of a husband dies unexpectedly, Lola learns he burned through their income. Only Berta, her loyal cook, stays with her. Desperate for cash, Lola agrees to an unusual job, retrieving an item from a swanky mansion. But then a murder embroils Lola and Berta in a police investigation. The pacing is snappy, and there’s plenty of fun 1920s slang, but I think the best thing about the book is the friendship between society matron Lola and her practical cook Berta.

I’m not usually a fan of mysteries with paranormal elements, but the first Lady Adelaide mystery, Nobody’s Sweetheart Now, has just a touch of it—a debonair ghost, Lady Adelaide’s dead husband, who drops into her life when she’s hosting a weekend house party. I love a mystery set at a county house party, so I was predisposed to enjoy this book because of the setting, but the repartee between Rupert, who was a philanderer and needs to do a good deed to pass over to the other side, and Lady Adelaide added a new angle to the typical manor house mystery that had me smiling throughout the book.

A bit dated, but fun.

“Advertising” used to be considered a good field for English majors, because they have “a way with words.” But advertising has morphed. It’s become “marketing” or “public relations” or “publicity”—more about graphics now, than words. Different.

Lord Peter Wimsey however still has “a way with words” in this cozy, so he goes undercover in a London advertising agency to investigate a suspicious death. With PG Wodehouse-like verbal hi-jinks, he ingratiates himself into the copywriting department, composing jingles about cleansers and such.

Silliness ensues. Then an interesting question arises: are there ethics in this business where people are rewarded for telling lies to sell what nobody actually needs? In such a culture, can Peter discover the truth? Can the words of any advertiser be trusted? 

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.

Pelecanos creates a helluva crime story set in Washington, DC. Not so different of a place, right? Ah, but there is the backdrop of the Martin Luther King riots in 1968 and the cops are overwhelmed. Derek Strange is a Black rookie cop and with a white detective Frank Vaughan goes on a manhunt for his brother’s killer. The combination of the two is a great dynamic. Derek’s pretty sure he knows who the drug dealer is who killed his brother and won’t be put off by the riots. Trying to find the killer in the chaos is gripping. A lot of grit in here and tension. This is one story you

This book, by Nobel-prize winner Kazuo Ishiguro, was the first novel in which I saw a character like myself—someone who grew up in a culture that was very different from his parents'. The mystery plot gets wild, but I found that the main character’s search for closure felt connected to my own nostalgia and grief over the places I’d left behind.

There isn’t a Robert Crais novel I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed, but I especially like the ones featuring PI Elvis Cole and his no-nonsense, stoic buddy Joe Pike. What is especially good about this novel is the character development of the two antagonists. Their personalities, often clashing with each other, make them more than one-dimensional killers, adding spice to the story—something I try to do in my own books.

John Connolly is simply a terrific writer. In this Detective Charlie Parker novel, the Maine woods are a character in themselves—sinister, overbearing, and almost certainly harbouring—you guessed it—real evil. Connolly’s Charlie Parker is haunted—literally—and dangerous. He’s a complex and darkly charismatic figure that I find compelling. The Wrath of Angels has at its core the battle between Good and Evil, but it is played out by imperfect characters in a very spooky atmosphere. It has all the ingredients of a horror novel, doesn’t it? But John Connolly manages darker themes believably and again, for me, it mixes genres beautifully—and believe me, that’s not easy.