The most recommended lesbian books

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.

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! 

D'Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding reminds me of those mushy holiday movies my wife watches on loop at the close of each year. The love connection always begins with the couple physically bumping into each other. While D'Vaughn and Kris don't run into each other, they are randomly paired up on a dating show. An odd move for D'Vaughn, as she isn't out to her family, but because Kris is a hopeless romantic, I found myself rooting hard for the faux couple.

Watching D'Vaughn come into her authentic self and the two women support each other throughout the process reminds me that despite any family dynamic or even local legislation, the moment you decide to be in a committed relationship is the moment you become a team. A united front. Gay, straight, or otherwise, that's a universal theme that most of us can get behind. 

Okay, first of all, one lead starts off hating the other. Sign me up, right? I like how they’re both lesfic writers but the first two chapters immediately juxtapose where they are in their processes – one is a nobody who can’t write fast enough and the other is a big name with writer’s block. They get roomed together at a writing retreat and then snowed in, so double the forced proximity. We love to see it. For me, this book is a lovely balance of Christmassiness (let me have this word, okay?) and writerliness. It helps me remember why I enjoy writing my queer romances – for the love of storytelling, not for money or fame. (But note: I don’t condone most of the writing opinions put forth in this story.)

Melissa Brayden is one of the gold standards for sapphic romance authors. I have never once been disappointed when I’ve picked up one of her books, and this one is no exception. I love sports books that focus on lesser-known sports, and surfing definitely falls into that category, but Brayden gets bonus points for also picking a sport with the sexiness built right in. Swimsuits, beaches, wet women, it’s not hard to find the appeal, and of course you also get the trademark Melissa Brayden snappy dialog and relatable characters. 

This book is one of the first I read in the genre, and it’s not overtly funny, which is why it’s here. I love books that are dramatic and show character growth while adding in humor. It doesn’t have to be over the top and should play to what the characters are going through. The main character talking to her fish isn’t something I expected to find in a book about finding love after loss, but it’s there along with some hilarious side characters that work in a bakery with Molly. The levity in those moments helps separate from some of the harder moments as our main character, Molly falls for the love of her life’s little sister in a small town where everyone knows everyone else’s business.

Ever since I was a boy, I’ve loved stories of the Arthurian mythos. Camelot, the Round Table, the Grail Quest, I couldn’t get enough of it. I also love seeing classic stories gender-flipped to reveal new perspectives on the original narrative.

This novel, which reimagines the Grail Quest by making Percival a woman named Peretur, also infuses the classic myths with Welsh and Celtic lore, the effects of Roman colonization, and insightful explorations of queerness and disability in a fantasy setting, all delivered in truly beautiful prose.

This is a book that helped me see some of my favorite tales in a new and more enlightened way.

Whether writing fiction or romance, McMan’s ability to paint a love story between two women is unparalleled. Their love materializes on the page as if watching an artist apply strokes to a painting. By the time the figures emerge from the canvas, my heart is invested. 

In Beowulf for Cretins, what appears to be an anonymous one-night stand for Grace simply isn’t when Abbie turns out to be her new boss. (Side note: look how nicely McMan is stacking up much-loved tropes here.)

This story contains elements that make my sapphic heart swoon every time, like when one character just can’t stay away from the other or when characters share the same interests. Throw in McMan’s signature humor and an entertaining pet, and swoon-worthy gets extra credit bonus points.

Gay American History was an epiphany for me and thousands of other gay men and women who were eager to learn about our history because books about it were few. I can’t describe the wonder I felt as I opened the book to thousands of rare documents (letters, diary entries, newspaper articles, book excerpts, medical and legal reports, etc.) that connected me to LGBT individuals who lived centuries earlier. Puritans, indigenous people, cross-dressing (“passing”) women, military personnel, artists of every ilk, government officials—their struggles, their defeats, and their victories, I learned, were no different in essence from those of the LGBT individual of the 21st Century. Gay American History is, in short, a treasure trove of information.

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.