If what gripped you in Fire and Hemlock was Polly piecing together the truth behind a centuries-old ballad and outwitting a faerie tithe on Halloween, Tam Lin delivers that same spine. You’ll follow Janet at a Midwestern college as everyday life slowly tilts toward the uncanny—classics lectures, dorm drama, and then the revelation that the old song about a captive lover isn’t just a story. Much like Polly’s realization that her invented tales with Tom have literal stakes, Janet’s scholarship becomes a weapon against enchantment, culminating in a bold Halloween confrontation that echoes Polly’s rescue.

Polly’s life in Fire and Hemlock is stitched together from memories that don’t line up—triggered by a photograph and a sense that something has been edited out. Gaiman’s narrator returns to his childhood lane and, like Polly, begins remembering events he’d forgotten: a lodger’s strange death, a doorway for something hungry, and the Hemstock women’s quiet, impossible magic. The way the past resurfaces here—fragmented, unreliable, and gradually clarified—mirrors Polly’s non-linear quest to recover the truth behind her bond with Tom and the faerie bargain entangling them.

If you loved how Polly and Tom’s make-believe heroics in Fire and Hemlock start steering real events, The Starless Sea dives deep into that idea. Zachary finds a mysterious book that contains an episode from his own past and tumbles into an underground harbor of stories—fables, legends, and fragments that braid into his life. Like the way Polly’s invented epics foreshadow and shape her fate with Tom and the fae, the nested tales here aren’t decoration; they’re the engine of destiny. You’ll relish the clues that echo across narratives until the pattern clicks into place.

Polly and Tom’s connection in Fire and Hemlock grows over years—letters, music, shared storytelling—until it becomes the axis of a larger enchantment. In The Night Circus, Celia and Marco are bound to a contest that stretches across a decade, their relationship deepening through the creations they craft for one another: tents of ice, enchanted gardens, whispered challenges. If you were drawn to the gradual, emotionally charged evolution of Polly and Tom’s bond under the shadow of a dangerous game, this book captures that same ache and wonder.

In Fire and Hemlock, Polly struggles against altered memories and a narrative others have imposed on her—only by questioning her own recollections can she break a faerie snare. Chime centers on Briony, who has been convinced she’s wicked and responsible for calamities. As she unravels what’s been done to her mind, she confronts swamp spirits, curses, and the truth behind a carefully planted lie. If Polly’s fight to reclaim her story resonated—photo, forgotten Halloween bargains, and all—Briony’s reclamation of memory and self will hit the same haunting notes.