100 books like When in Rome

This book is a bit different from my other recommendations.

When the book opens, the hero and heroine are already a couple. I loved seeing how their relationship is tested against the backdrop of the hero’s colorful, sometimes eccentric family. Again, humor! Ohmigosh, there are so many absolutely hilarious moments. For me, the book was a fascinating peek into a culture I knew little about.

Families can be a handful for young lovers. When you come from two completely different backgrounds, the pressure of expectations can cause the couple to crack. I loved Kevin’s deft storytelling and the lack of stereotypical stock figures.

Although I primarily read contemporary romance, I love historical stories. Mary Balogh is one of the queens of the genre. For anyone who has fallen into the Bridgerton Netflix mania, Mary’s writing evokes the feeling of that time period: so many rules for the nobility and so many people who dare not fall in love or risk a lifetime of pain.

In this book, the couple is certainly not a suitable match. Even in their friendship, there is risk. I loved the way the stakes built up, and I also enjoyed the slow unraveling of a childhood secret that was destined to destroy any chance of happiness for the two main characters.

I have been reading Jill Shalvis for some time now. I love the depth of her characters and the realism of her storylines. But even when she is writing about tough topics, hope wins out.

In this book, the heroine is running from a difficult past, yet she yearns for permanency. Not all birth families are perfect. Jill’s book underscores the value of the families we choose.

And did I mention that the book is funny? From tears to laughter and back again. Gets me every time. 

First of all—a holiday story set in New York City? Who can resist that? Like the heroine, I am one of those people who loves immersing myself in Christmas as soon as Halloween is over. That usually means reading several holiday-set novels. With this book, I found myself turning pages faster and faster, yet never wanting the book to end.

The hero worried me. He’d faced a tragedy and shut himself off from the world. Sometimes, that can be too dark for my reading pleasure. But Sarah is a masterful storyteller. Her heroine is so empathetic and caring (possibly at the risk of breaking her own heart) that the hero is ever-so-slowly coaxed back from the brink of disaster.

Even for readers not from the Christmas tradition, the unfolding story will be satisfying. 

I love this book because it has everything, believable, engaging characters, a riveting plot, a vivid setting, and a cause. Larger-than-life Margery O’Hare and lady-like Alice are unlikely friends, but friends they become in this great story.

When I first saw photos of those "librarians on horseback," the wonderful women who responded to Eleanor Roosevelt’s call to take books to the rural poor of Kentucky in the depressed 1930s, I longed to know more. Jojo Moyes gives us lots more. There’s an array of well-drawn characters, but it’s Margery and Alice who drive the story forward, defying the odds to achieve their aims and find men who love and appreciate them.

Yes, it’s a love story, too, and a whodunnit? Perfect!

This novel begins with a chance, intimate encounter five years earlier that has lasting importance for both Cameron Pope and Rusty Caldwell.

When they met, they didn’t even exchange names and he was a soldier about to be deployed. Now, she’s a federal agent and he’s returned home to his native Kentucky hoping to lead a simple, healing life. Instead, a kidnapping affects his family and Cam is thrust into the action. When Rusty arrives, the “soldier boy” has found his “angel” again.

It’s a fast-paced, exciting adventure but there’s a developing love between the two main characters. For me, it’s that second shot at love, that hope in the face of hopelessness, and the suspense kept me on the edge of my chair.

This is a quiet first novel that deals directly with writers’ struggles to find their voices and places in the world.

The main character, an aspiring writer who works as a laborer to pay for classes and for entrée into the literary world, falls in love with a poet who has already won acclaim and doesn’t have to take menial jobs that distract her from her real passion.

Both characters struggle to find their voices and make their ways as writers in a country that doesn’t offer public funding to aspiring artists and writers. Both opt to live modestly in order to pursue their chosen career paths, and ultimately find that they must consider their own career above the other’s.

As a person with strong ties to biology, I love that in this book, vampires and werewolves are no more magical or supernatural (and therefore also no more immortal) than any human; they just came from different branches down the evolutionary tree.

What I really liked were the dialogues–the sarcasm, verbal power games, and dry humor. And the character development, where an isolated person learns that opening up and accepting friendship and the feeling of belonging requires courage because it also makes one more vulnerable.

Years ago, before we had books out in the world or even deals to publish them, I once saw Gretchen Schreiber describe her book as The Breakfast Club set in a hospital. I was immediately beyond sold, and since then, I’ve enjoyed watching every step of that book coming into existence.

This novel explores something about chronic illness and disability that I think about often–the way we almost divide ourselves into two people. For Ellie, that’s who she is in the hospital versus who she is outside of it. For me, that’s one person who’s allowed to be sick and one who isn’t. 

I didn’t know how badly I needed to read the journal of a Cambridge professor until I got ahold of this book. It helps that her area of study is faeries and that her academic rival and love interest is an eccentric, self-absorbed charmer of a “man” (see footnote: exiled fae) who ends up enraptured by his human.

This book is filled with genuinely beautiful prose that often topples over into ridiculousness, a perfect blend to make me devolve into chuckling while also falling in love with the characters and the spooky, wintery world they adventure through.