Jeffe Kennedy’s The Fiery Crown continues the love story of Queen Lia and Prince Conrí, two former rivals who have recently married in order to form an alliance against an evil emperor. In this guest post, Kennedy recommends six other fantasy romances, all of which are (bonus!) enemies-to-lovers.
One of the reasons I love fantasy romance is that the fantasy setting allows for wonderful enemies-to-lovers romances. What makes a good enemies-to-lovers scenario for me is if the couple are poised against each other for political reasons. This increases the stakes—because the couple’s enmity affects far more than just themselves—and gives a believable grounding to their being in opposition. The story isn’t about one person bullying the other or being cruel for no good reason. In a good fantasy arc, the lives of many people and the safety of entire realms can ride on the same reasons the two are enemies.
Then, I love the delicious coming together of enemies who find the commonality in each other—and learn not only to respect their differences but also love each other for them.
Plus, you get royalty in hiding, tortured sorcerers and fantastic beasts! What more could a reader want?
Here are some of my all-time favorite fantasy romances (by my own definition), including some that were formative for me.
A Promise of Fire by Amanda Bouchet
This story features a princess and heir to the throne hiding from her horrible family as a carnival fortune teller. A would-be king, believing she is a kingmaker, kidnaps her to take advantage of her powers. The pair attempting to outwit each other—plus sizzling chemistry—makes this a delightful read.
Master of Crows by Grace Draven
Still my favorite of Grace Draven’s books, this story finds a repressed sorceress sold as a bonded servant to—and planted to spy on—a grumpy and tormented sorcerer. He is not gentle with her as he attempts to free her magic, and their path is not a magically easy one. The moment she realizes he actually cares about her is as surprising as it is heart-melting.
Winds of Change by Mercedes Lackey
The untrained mage, princess and heir to the throne travels to a foreign land to learn to use her powers. While they’re not political enemies, her relationship with the adept who agrees to teach her is adversarial and fraught with cultural misunderstanding. They come together as lovers, but finding a way to reconcile their worlds is much more difficult.
Reluctant Concubine by Dana Marton
The title says it all here: A healer is kidnapped by a warrior race and the enemy of her people. She ends up as one of the High Lord’s concubines—and their journey toward mutual understanding and reconciliation of the chasm between their peoples is surprisingly tender.
Dragonflight by Anne McCaffrey
Nearly as old as I am, this seminal story can be prickly for the modern reader. Nevertheless, I have an abiding love for this tale of an orphan in hiding, last surviving member of a ruling family, and the dragonrider who finds her and is determined to make her their next queen. The pair are fierce, hot-tempered and still one of my all-time favorite couples.
The Forgotten Beasts of Eld by Patricia A. McKillip
This is another iconic book for me, though it’s a bit outside the stamp of a romance. Still, the tale of a solitary wizard woman who reluctantly accepts an infant heir from a warrior still bloody from the battlefield and their unlikely love affair is an enduring favorite. The battles for a throne and the families caught in an endless cycle of vengeance create a backdrop for the kind of personal growth required to value love above all.
Of all the quarantine reading and listening I’ve done, no audiobook has inspired more people to ask me for more information than You Never Forget Your First, Alexis Coe’s myth-busting biography of George Washington. Coe contextualizes and humanizes Washington’s victories and losses on the battlefield, his many (many) illnesses, his politics and home life in a whole new way, and it’s made all the more accessible by Brittany Pressley’s wry, clear narration. Most importantly, you’ll explore the hypocrisy in Washington’s fight for liberation from British rule while keeping black people enslaved. For readers interested in thinking critically about American history, this is a good start.
I didn’t think it was possible to be more chained to my phone—and thus, more uncomfortable with my relationship to social media—but here we are in a pandemic, and nearly all our social interactions are now on screens. Jenny Odell’s How to Do Nothing has helped temper those feelings by providing guidance to resist the guilt of feeling unproductive and the demands on our attention. I find Rebecca Gibel’s narration to be hypnotic in its dryness, allowing me to reprioritize and realign where I give my focus.
My thoughts have increasingly strayed to the week each year my family spends at a condo on the Florida gulf—specifically, to the books I read on last summer’s trip, one of which was Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue, which feels like an Aaron Sorkin production with the more melodramatic moments of “The Crown.” When I decided to reexperience it via the audiobook, I’m not sure whether I was motivated by a desire to return to the world McQuiston’s ebullient romance between the president’s son and an English prince, to return to the beach itself or to transport myself to a happy moment in a simpler time. Probably a bit of all three. Regardless, the absorbing and rapid-fire story, paired with Ramón de Ocampo’s warm, exuberant narration (and fantastic British accent, when performing Prince Henry’s lines) made for the perfect, swoonworthy escape.
Ninth House is an addicting mystery set at a magical secret society at Yale University, author Leigh Bardugo’s alma mater. Narrators Lauren Fortgang and Michael David Axtell alternate between Galaxy “Alex” Stern and Daniel “Darlington” Arlington; of the two, Fortgang is the standout. Her performance is as sharp as Alex herself, who’s been through a lot before arriving at Yale. Scenes where Alex lets her rage and trauma surface are riveting as Fortgang snarls and performs through clenched teeth. Fortgang’s visceral performance of Alex’s anger makes the rare moments of genuine affection that Alex permits herself—particularly toward Hellie, a close friend, and Pamela Dawes, the society’s in-house researcher—moving in their tenderness, as Fortgang softens her voice to convey Alex’s vulnerability. Anyone looking to be swept up in a story of dark magic in which nothing is as it seems should give Ninth House a try.
I read a hard copy of Kiese Laymon’s memoir Heavy when it came out in 2018 and loved it—in that had-to-lie-down-for-two-and-a-half-hours-afterward kind of way. (The book is aptly named.) When my professor assigned it for a graduate class I took this spring, I decided to give the award-winning audiobook a try for my second reading. Hearing Laymon’s words in his own voice was even more affecting than reading them on the page. In the audio version, you get the full playfulness of he and LaThon’s middle school riffing on words like “galore” (gal-low), “meager” (mee-guh) and “y’all don’t even know.” You also hear the full tenderness of Laymon’s conversations with his mother, in which they try to tell each other the truth about addiction, abuse, deception and love. When I finished listening to Heavy this time, I still had to lie down afterward to digest its contents—white supremacy, disordered eating and violence against Black Americans, among other things—but since a late afternoon stress-nap was already a staple in my quarantine routine, it turned out to be a perfect pandemic listen.
I was two chapters into my hardcover of Trick Mirror when the audiobook became available to check out from the library. (Apparently, I had placed it on hold during pre-COVID times and then, along with all the other trappings of normal life, forgot about it.) Jia Tolentino’s nuanced essays are the sort of reading you want to absorb every word of, so I wasn’t sure the audiobook would be the best fit. But out of curiosity (and a desire to make good on the library’s monthslong waitlist), I checked it out and grabbed my headphones. Next thing I knew, I was three hours in and plumbing the depths of my to-do list for more things to work on so I could keep listening. With an engaging balance between the personal and the reported, Tolentino’s exacting explorations of feminism, the internet and the self lend themselves nicely to audio, as it turns out. And as for my to-do list, her intellectual, no-frills narration provided the perfect soundtrack for taking a walk, doing the dishes, brushing the cats, making banana bread and mending that tear in my duvet cover.
While Party of Two looks at life in the eye of the political storm, Alexis Hall’s Boyfriend Material offers an entree into the treacherous world of celebrities and dating as reputation management. Luc, the lead character, is the child of a notoriously dissolute and neglectful rock star. His relationship with his lout of a father is nonexistent and has been nearly all his life. As a result of their estrangement, Luc has experienced almost none of the privileges of fame, but must manage all of the public scrutiny that comes with being the child of a famous person. His every move is hounded, his every breakup and alcohol-infused misstep fodder for the tabloids.
In The Cowboy Says I Do, Dylann Crush explores the seamier side of small-town life, demonstrating that not all traditions are good, and sometimes you have to break with the past to secure a better future.
Jackie Ashenden’s Come Home to Deep River strikes a more somber tone. In this second-chance romance, a bush pilot returns to his isolated Alaskan hometown for the first time in 13 years after the death of his closest friend. When Silas Quinn left Deep River to join the Army with his best friend Cal West, they both left their childhood friend, Hope, behind. Cal’s connection, though, was never severed. The Wests have effectively owned the town for generations, and in the years since, Cal returned multiple times, while Silas intentionally stayed away. For Si, good memories were overshadowed by familial loss and unrequited love. But when Cal dies, he leaves Silas and their business partners both ownership of and responsibility for stewardship of the town.
Jenny Holiday’s Paradise Cove is the most personal and poignant of the three books, as both of its leads are recovering from life-changing loss. After a soul-crushing betrayal by her longtime partner, Dr. Nora Walsh leaves her big-city job and her expensive apartment to become the local family doctor in tiny Moonflower Bay. There she meets Jake, a grieving father who’s short on words but generous in spirit. Holiday writes beautiful prose, and while her story is incredibly emotional, she leavens its heaviness with quirky secondary characters and generous helpings of humor.
