If Shadow’s cross‑country trek with Mr. Wednesday—through roadside attractions like the House on the Rock, tense sit‑downs with Czernobog, and coin‑toss bargains—hooked you, you’ll love how Casiopea Tun is bound to the Mayan death god Hun‑Kamé and must accompany him from the Yucatán to Mexico City. Gods of Jade and Shadow delivers that same mix of ancient deities walking the contemporary world, perilous errands, and the cost of making deals with powers far older than highways—echoing Laura Moon’s uneasy resurrection with its own darkly enchanting twists.

If the clash between Mr. Wednesday’s old gods and the slick New Gods of Media, Technology, and Mr. World grabbed you, The City We Became channels that energy into living avatars of New York’s boroughs defending their city from an invasive, otherworldly force. Like Shadow navigating conspiracies behind billboards and TV screens, you’ll follow street‑level skirmishes and cosmic stakes where identity, community, and belief literally shape reality.

If the "Coming to America" interludes and Mr. Ibis’s case‑book tales deepened American Gods—those nested histories of how deities arrived and adapted—you’ll relish The Orphan’s Tales: In the Night Garden. It spins a labyrinth of embedded tales that refract and echo each other, much like how Shadow’s main journey is haunted by side‑stories of belief, immigration, and survival. The result is an intricate mosaic that rewards the same patient, myth‑rich listening you gave to those interludes.

If the surreal strangeness of the carousel at the House on the Rock, Shadow’s world‑tree vigil, and Mr. Wednesday’s con pulled you into a reality where the divine lurks behind truck stops and diners, The Library at Mount Char turns that vibe up to eleven. Its "librarians" wield terrifying, godlike domains under a mysterious Father, and the mundane suburbs hide apocalyptic secrets—capturing the same off‑kilter, uncanny mood that made Laura’s impossible coin‑fueled return feel both wondrous and wrong.

If the way American Gods shows old deities fading without worship—and the New Gods thriving on attention—stuck with you, Small Gods tackles that idea head‑on. Om is reduced to a feeble tortoise until one true believer rekindles his power, leading to a witty, heartfelt journey that echoes Shadow’s realization that gods live or die by stories, faith, and the bargains we make with them—without needing a war orchestrated by a grifting Mr. Wednesday to prove it.