The most recommended lesbian books

Like the novels in my first 3 picks, this one is part of a series. Nea Fox, the protagonist, is a private eye working out of London. The story contains a series of intricate puzzles with exotic characters and engaging relationships. Think of the Fu Manchu novels if they had been written by Patricia Highsmith. In this one, Nea investigates an alleged haunting and reveals a great deal of monkey business. And if it’s action you like, this may be the most exciting lesbian mystery of all.   

In contrast to stereotypes about lesbians that framed them as bra-burning, men-hating, hairy-legged feminists, Lauren Gutterman evocatively shows how the emergence of post-World War II lesbian desire took place at the center of American life, in the suburbs, often in marriages to men and heterosexual families with children. Married women rejected divorce or labelling themselves as lesbians even while they had affairs with their female neighbors. Her Neighbor’s Wife offers an extraordinary new interpretation of how post-World War II American marriages could accommodate women’s relationships with other women.

For those who study or teach about Africa, it is essential to know the pioneers of struggles for justice on the continent. African intellectuals eloquent in European languages began calling out injustices as early as the 18th century. To my mind, however, Nkabinde is a particularly impressive pioneer from the early 21st. It’s not just that African women have been routinely overlooked by historians. The very existence of African lesbians and transwomen was until very recently completely denied. Here, then, for the very first time, an African woman tells of her coming to sexual self-awareness, first as a spirit medium for a powerful male ancestor and then through modern sexual identity discourses. It is a poignant appeal to the humanistic potential of African traditional cultures when married to a universal human rights framework.

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.

I have to admit I am not a fan of soccer. I know this means a lot of folks will vote to remove my sapphic author card for saying so publicly, but I only do so to drive home the point of how rare it is for me to get caught up in a soccer story. I really only agreed to blurb this book because I’ve known Jane for a long time and I wanted to help her with her debut novel, but once I got started, I couldn’t put it down. The characters are rich and dynamic, and the story is so much more than the standard competition narrative. I don’t want to give it away, but this one really got me on a deeper level than I expected. 

Spears’ compelling tale of Jodie Taylor—a lesbian coming of age in the American South of the 1950s and 1960s—smoothly draws readers into that overall time and place through details of setting (a “Pepto-Bismol pink trailer raised on cinder blocks”), behavior (a girl gleefully pouring salted peanuts into an RC Cola) and history (the Birmingham Church bombing) before plunging us into the far-less-familiar inner world of mid-century Southern lesbians. We gain privileged entrée into wildly rollicking bars and snugly welcoming kitchens; witness acts of treachery and acts of fierce loyalty; come to know women of tough skins and tender hearts. “It takes living queer to understand who we are,” one character confidently asserts. But through this adeptly crafted book, Spears opens up that understanding to us all.    

I don’t even know where to start with this one. Our lead sapphic is married to a tree lady (dryad), captain Jenny, who once kept half-unicorn man Gary prisoner aboard her ship so she could harvest his horn for fuel. Gary’s out for revenge but the mystical Sisters of the Supersymmetrical Axiom have had a vision that involves Gary and Jenny working together. Also, Jenny’s wife has been kidnapped, which is never great. 

Space Unicorn Blues is another sapphic space book that doesn’t rely on romance for the plot, but does allow lesbians to simply exist. This book is a delight more for its absolute refusal of tropes than anything else, and constant weird fairy tale references thrown in throughout.

This novel achieves something that, as a writer, I think is one of the hardest things to pull off: tackling troubling, emotionally fraught material yet finding moments to make readers laugh out loud. The novel’s protagonist, Alex, has plenty of challenges to deal with: the loss of her mother to an apparent drug overdose, a difficult relationship with her can’t-seem-to-grow-up brother, and an uncertain reconnection with an old flame. Through Alex, Michalski manages to both confront these challenges and find humor in them. As I read the book and thought of the difficulties in my own life, I considered how I needed to take a page from this character’s playbook. Another element that leavens the novel’s heavier material is a plot thread that will delight rom-com enthusiasts.

The child of Communist parents, Alix would grow up to be one of the most profound movers and shakers of the lesbian music movement, producing the first full-length lesbian album, Lavender Jane Loves Women, in 1973. But this memoir is a series of chapters on her early years growing up in the 1950s with progressive activists and folk club life, embarking on her own career in the folk circuit, singing against the backdrop of repressive politics, and coming into the women’s movement as a married mother about to fall in love with another woman.

One of the biggest draws for me in this story is that both women are both around fifty years old. One, Ida, is a closeted lesbian, having hidden her sexuality for decades to protect her Hollywood career. The other, Faye, has never considered the possibility that she might not be 100% straight, until she and Ida ‘play gay’ for a movie and have to kiss. But it isn’t just the kiss that sets Faye’s mind whirling – it’s how fascinating she finds Ida as a person. The more time they spend together, the more confused Faye gets. It’s so well written, with alternate chapters from each woman’s point of view, but all in first person, which is cleverly done.

Levig’s characters in Embracing the Dawn leap from the page. They’re fully realized, three-dimensional women with interesting backstories. It’s an unusual pairing, but that doesn’t decrease the swoon-worthy component any.

I’ve heard readers are fascinated with either E.J. or Jinx, myself no exception. Like in my last recommendation, I adore when a character can’t help herself from showing up time and time again, and this romance provides. 

Levig supplements her love interests with intriguing and complex side characters who are just as loveable as the main characters. Levig doesn’t shy away from difficult subjects, and how E.J. and Jinx support and strengthen each other makes their romance even more swoon worthy.

You’ll be ordering the second book in the series before you’re done with the first.

I listened to this book, so it helped that it had a great narrator in Melissa Moran. Since I usually listen to books before bed, you can understand that finding a good book that makes me laugh probably wouldn’t help me get much sleep, and this is one of those books. The story is a fake romance, which is a trope in this genre that everyone seems to love. Lacey is dry and sarcastic, which is my favorite kind of character, and it takes place on a TV show set, so if you’re into celebrities and Hollywood romances like my Celebrities Series, this one is for you. I’ve probably listened to this book at least 5 times already. 

This historical romance is so much more than a romance. It’s also a commentary on the place women had in society for much of the 19th century, and how hard it was for them to break out of the mold of being nothing but a pretty thing to entertain the men in their lives. The story of Lucy, a young astronomer, and her relationship with her older benefactress, Catherine, is beautifully written. Catherine’s journey from an abusive marriage to the incredible love she finds with Lucy is poignant and passionate all at the same time, and the depth of characterization of both women is wonderful.

Fat Tuesday is the book that taught me what a lesbian was and what a joyful possibility that could be for me.

It’s about a high school senior named Rusty who decides, despite all the desperate circumstances of her life, to travel to New Orleans for Mardi Gras with her sick mother and dysfunctional friends.

Rusty and company are obsessed with soap operas as an escape from their current reality, and as their road trip proceeds, their reality becomes more and more like a soap opera plot, with all the drama, dramatic twists, and exaggerated exuberance that soap operas are known for! 

This is one of my favorite romances of all time, and while it’s not a novel about a competitive sport, I think it’s important to note sports can provide so much more than “winning” narratives. In this book, a group of women whitewater kayak through Alaska, and they use their outdoor sporting skills for a wonderful adventure wrapped around a sexy romance that still gives me all the heart feels even after having read it at least ten times. I love literally everything about this book, from the beautiful settings to the character development to the action scenes. Ten out of ten for Kim Baldwin.

This is a relatively lighthearted superhero romance about Ava, an alien who works as the personal assistant to a big Hollywood star named Gwen. When Gwen asks Ava to pretend to be her girlfriend because it will help Gwen with the custody battle with her ex-husband, all the predictable fake dating shenanigans ensue.

The book is a fun, comfortable read with a good bit of pining, a fun sister relationship, and an interesting superhero plot.

The focus on Ava’s and Gwen’s emotional journey through the story makes it an engaging read the first time through, and a nice, comfortable reread for those days when you just want to lose yourself in a comfy book.

I love the fake romance trope! Characters pretending to be in a relationship for convoluted reasons get me picking the book up every time. This one is a cracker! Top neurosurgeon Samantha Thomson needs a wife like now and advertises to find one. The ad is answered by Hayden Pérez, an ER nurse in the same hospital. Trouble is, Hayden dislikes the rude and aloof Sam and is only doing this for the generous payment for a year of her time.

Watching Sam and Hayden banter and snark around each other is delicious fun. As their relationship develops, the women start to understand and support each other through their individual problems in a very positive way. Readers who love a longer read will adore this one: the word count clocks in at 122,000.

This book is a delight from start to finish.

This book is so expansive, Audre Lorde invented a whole new genre for it. She terms it “biomythography,” bringing together autobiography, mythology, fiction, poetry, and other forms of writing to tell her story of queer life.

I fell in love with Zami in college back in the day and have been re-reading it ever since. From her childhood in 1930s and 40s Harlem to her coming out as the self-proclaimed fat black lesbian “warrior poet,” who would come to shape black feminism in the late 20th century and beyond, Zami charts the life, loves, and transformative ideas of one of our most important writers.

Zami is both muse and guide, showing us how the iconic feminist writer came to be, and how pleasure, power, creative expression, and community are indispensable to our own freedom today.  

Physically, a beautiful book. There are these drawings made with scratchboard illustrations and actual lace from a factory in Scranton, PA. The poems are gorgeous, whimsical pieces about a young woman in particular, but working women in general who produced lace. 

Though historical, the factory did not close until 2002, and the building still stands. The book, however, is set in the past, in the 1930s, and follows a lesbian who works in the factory. I love the way that both Douaihy and Hermanson play with negative space, the white, and the dark of letters or lace. 

Of course, I looked to this book for the historicity of it, and how Douaihy handled one character over time.

Lena Martin is given the job of tracking down Shattergirl, a black lesbian superhero who has dropped out of sight. I love this book because it’s not your usual superhero story. 

It takes a dive into how public perception affects who we are willing to accept as heroes, how other people’s preconceptions care wear down marginalized people, and how having to hide parts of yourself can distance you from those around you.