100 books like Unbreakable

You can’t go wrong with any Rebekah Weatherspoon book frankly, but Xeni has a special place in my heart because of the leads: Xeni, a witchy bi lead with a very complicated family bumping into a favourite romantic trope: the marriage of convenience (only, it’s very much not convenient, thank you); and Mason, a burly, bearded, bi bear who, I cannot express this clearly enough, is so instantly cuddle-worthy. That these bisexual characters are thrown into this marriage by someone they both loved as part of her will just adds to the trope joy. Beyond that, there’s so much steamy sex-positivity in this book, alongside Weatherspoon’s always brilliant supportive friend groups and mix of chosen and biological family that I found myself taking the dog for extra walks just to keep listening. 

The way Rey handles butch-femme relationships never fail to impress me, and I think so much of it comes down to how expertly she manages to make her butch characters so non-toxic in their masculinity. They support without taking over, lead without diminishing, and her characters are so often imperfectly doing their best that you root for them even when you know they’re about to do something they’ll regret. Twice Shy puts two women together who’ve both divorced their exes, and listening to Kiera Grace perform Quinn and Amanda tentatively finding their way to each other was as sweet as Amanda’s bakery’s cupcakes. Oh, I should warn you, though: any Rey book will make you hungry. Bring snacks.

Visiting London at its most coal-caked and financially stratified, The Affair of the Porcelain Dog was Holmes-like in its execution, and pulled me into its mystery from the opening so steeped in the time and place and culture, and then never let go. Ira Adler is so charming a character that even when he was being selfish or spoiled I was smitten. An orphan, street thief, pickpocket, and former rent boy now living in luxury at the beck and call of a crime lord, Ira ends up tasked to recover the titular “dog” statue, which contains a secret that could ruin everything, and bring Ira's comfortable new life to an end. Philip Battley’s narration was so completely immersive, and had me there with Ira, hoping he’d somehow pull it off.

You can actually get this novella as part of a four-pack of audio novellas by Cole, which I’d also recommend, but this sapphic historical novella is set against the backdrop of American History—any fans of Hamilton reading this should take note—and manages to be both hopeful and unblinking in the face of reality of what Black queer women face in the time and place in this perfect balance I cannot praise enough. These two women couldn’t be more different: one is a maid to Eliza Hamilton and devoted to as simple a life as possible, the other is a dressmaker who refuses to be anything but audacious, and the result is brilliant. Also, Karen Chilton’s performance is just fantastic.

Do not read after dark! At least, don’t do so if you’re a scaredy-cat like me when it comes to ghost stories. That said, I found this story lovely and fun and steamy—when it wasn’t scaring the daylights out of me, that is. The premise is fabulous: a man moves to York, England, because he has inherited an old house there, which turns out to be super haunted. So who does he turn to for help? One of the many ghost-tour guides who roam the city telling their tales, of course. Turns out this particular guide—aside from being a highly sexy fellow with dyed-blue hair—can in fact see ghosts. And the ones in this house would rather murder the living than be politely ushered out.

This novella is a close retelling of Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu, which is the OG sapphic vampire story. It recasts the ending to give the leads a happy ever after, and ups the sapphic content to modern standards, adding a bit of steaminess. Simper’s version retains Laura’s initial ambivalence and horror towards Carmilla, the historical setting, and the gothic flair. It’s a must-read for fans of the original who are looking for a more modern interpretation.

Allyson’s book is a collection of essays on the intersection of queerness, identity, and pop culture—horror primarily. Which means, yeah, it was practically engineered for me.

I found much to love and much to relate to within these pages. The way she weaves together personal experience, horror tropes, and urban legends is masterful, and I found the descriptions of gatekeeping and how it results in questioning one’s identity/place in things to hit rather personally.

A beautifully written coming-of-age tale. And another book I have read many times. The descriptions are so sensuous and evocative of a hot summer in the French countryside that it’s easy to lose yourself in them. This story isn’t a straightforward romance and reading about deeply flawed but very human characters are ultimately what gives me comfort with this one.

Tentacles get a bad rap, which is a shame.

What most people fail to appreciate is that each new tentacle is another location for a little kiss. Vesper Rune, a warm-hearted eldritch horror, has tentacles, and, as librarian Sebastian Rath can attest, each could do with at least one little kiss.

Jordan L Hawk, author of the popular Whyborne and Griffin series, is a titan in the world of kissable monstrosities, and the cultist-turned-hero Vesper Rune is possibly my favorite. After a lifetime of hiding, he finally finds a place where he can be safe, open about both his queerness and his untraditional anatomy, and receive many little kisses. Widdershins knows its own. 

I learned about the existence of Don’t Stop Believing through Gwen Hayes’ writing craft book Romancing the Beat. She used it as her example outline. It was the first thing I read to pick out story beats, and I meant to focus on writing craft while reading, but I fell in love with the characters. Both leads are precious! It gets me in the holiday mood but I reread this one all year round. Snowed in at Christmastime when they both secretly like the other already? Gimme gimme gimme (this book after midnight). It’s just so festive and cute.