If you loved how Dinios Kol and Ana Dolabra dissect that grotesque, tree-bursting death and trace it up through ministries and hidden patrons, you’ll click with the courtly autopsy of power in The Bone Orchard. Charm—part courtesan, part necromantic fixer—must solve an emperor’s murder while navigating a web of factions, implanted compulsions, and weaponized bodies. Like Dolabra’s razor logic, Charm’s forensics pull at threads until a full conspiracy spills out, with each revelation recontextualizing the crime scene and the empire behind it.

Enjoyed being the wide‑eyed apprentice to Dolabra’s mercurial genius as Dinios learns to read grafts, sigils, and subtle tells? In Rivers of London, probationary constable Peter Grant is taken under the wing of the enigmatic wizard‑inspector Thomas Nightingale and thrown into cases where hauntings, river spirits, and violent magical incidents demand quick learning and odd fieldcraft. That same mentor–protégé spark—acerbic guidance, steep on‑the‑job training, and casework that keeps escalating—powers a witty, fast investigation through hidden rules and dangerous rituals.

If the bio‑crafted grafts, organ‑wards, and careful procedural limits Dolabra exploits were your catnip, Mistborn: The Final Empire scratches the same itch. Allomancy’s metal‑based powers operate on crisp rules that characters bend with ingenuity, much like Dolabra and Dinios weaponize biological constraints in their casework. Watching Vin and Kelsier combine abilities, plan heists, and test the system’s edges delivers the same puzzle‑box satisfaction you got from turning each graft and toxic bloom in the investigation into a decisive advantage.

Drawn to the empire of engineered flora and leviathan biology that frames Dinios and Dolabra’s case—the spores, the living architecture, the predatory ecosystems? The Ninth Rain revels in similarly tactile, original worldbuilding: ruined sky‑war relics, parasitic horrors, and alchemical/organic tech underpin an expedition that peels back a civilization’s buried history. As in that opening arboreal‑body crime, the environment isn’t backdrop but evidence, and every clue is rooted in how the world’s biology really works.

If Dolabra’s barbed wit, Dinios’s deadpan observations, and the sardonic jabs at imperial offices made you grin amid the grue, Guards! Guards! hits the same sweet spot. Captain Vimes and the Night Watch bumble and wisecrack through a case involving a secret society, a summoned dragon, and plenty of paperwork—solving crimes while skewering the machinery of power. The humor lands right where Dolabra’s acid asides do: cutting, clever, and perfectly timed to puncture pomposity as the mystery tightens.