Gay Fantasy Books That Lit Up My 2024: A Very Personal Stack

I read a lot. On the bus. In bed. In that weird chair my cat has claimed. And this year, gay and queer fantasy kept me company. Some were brand-new in 2024; a few were older, but they found me now—when I needed them. You know what? That matters too.

So here’s me, Kayla, telling you what hit, what missed, and the small moments I still can’t shake.


Infinity Alchemist by Kacen Callender (2024)

Need another angle? Common Sense Media offers a concise, spoiler-free take on Infinity Alchemist if you’re still on the fence.

I read this one on a rainy Saturday with cold coffee and a hoodie I should’ve washed two days earlier. It’s a big, bold magic-school story with alchemy, tests, messy feelings, and a lot of heart. The lead is a trans boy who wants to master alchemy even when the path isn’t “for” him. That part made my chest tight in a good way.

The romance? Queer, tangled, and sweet. There’s boy-boy tension that feels like real life—awkward, tender, sometimes sideways. It’s also sex-positive and kind. The book doesn’t rush. Sometimes it lingers too long in lectures and rules, sure, but I still kept turning pages.

  • What I loved: big feelings, chosen family vibes, and how it celebrates queer joy without apology.
  • What bugged me: some long worldbuilding bits dragged; I skimmed a touch in the middle.

I finished it and hugged the book. No shame. If protagonists who own their queerness are your jam, I kept a running list of stand-out tales here.


A Power Unbound by Freya Marske (2023, but my 2024 read)

Want a preview? Pan Macmillan hosts the official synopsis and excerpt for A Power Unbound if you’d like to scope the sparks before diving in.

Yes, it came out last year. No, I don’t care. I read it in February with a cinnamon roll and a heart that wanted banter. I got banter.

This is the last book in The Last Binding trilogy, and it’s a perfect m/m historical fantasy capstone: Jack, the prickly lord with a soft center, and Alan, the stubborn, clever mage who refuses to bow to anyone. They spar, they scheme, and they steal my sleep. There’s a heist, a library scene that made me grin, and a rain-soaked fight that felt like a kiss even before it was one.

  • Big win: crackling chemistry, sharp humor, and a finale that actually sticks the landing.
  • Small gripe: the plot hops fast; if you’re new, start at book one.

I kept a sticky note on the page with their first real truce. It’s still there.


The Brides of High Hill by Nghi Vo (2024)

This is quiet, eerie, and elegant—like standing in a silk room where you hear a whisper and you’re not sure if it’s the wind. Cleric Chih walks into a fancy house where nothing feels safe, and the story unfolds with music and teeth.

It’s not a romance book; it is queer by nature—gender in this world breathes easy, and it shows. The dread grows slow, like steam on a mirror. I read it in two sittings and then sat very still. If you like your scares soft and your sentences sharp, this one’s for you.

  • Loved: mood, voice, and how the tale asks what stories can protect—and what they can’t.
  • Mild fuss: if you want big action, you won’t find it here. The haunt is the point.

What Feasts at Night by T. Kingfisher (2024)

I took this on a weekend trip and slept with the lights on. It’s gothic, a little gross, and strangely cozy—like soup with a bone in it. Alex Easton (a nonbinary soldier) faces a nightmare thing that sits on your chest and steals your breath. The book is queer without shouting; it’s just there, woven in.

Miss Potter returns with mushrooms and blunt kindness, and the folklore feels sticky and real. I wrinkled my nose a few times (body horror, hi), but I never wanted to stop.

  • Loved: the humor tucked inside the horror, and the care it shows its characters.
  • Didn’t love: if you’re squeamish, you might need breaks. I sure did.

The Afterlife of Mal Caldera by Nadi Reed Perez (2024)

I read this late—like “midnight turned to 2 a.m.” late. It’s YA with bones and heart. Mal is a trans boy tied to necromancy, grief, and a ghost boy who made my chest ache. The story has Spanish woven through, family pressure, and that heavy, bright feeling of being seen and also scared.

Sometimes the pace stutters. Teen feelings can shout. But it’s tender and brave. The ending left me warm and a bit watery.

  • Loved: the way it treats grief with respect, and the soft romance that feels like a hand squeeze.
  • Gripe: a couple of plot turns felt quick—but I forgave them.

Two older gems I reread in 2024 (and still recommend)

  • Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh: M/M forest myth with moss, mercy, and a patient love. I save it for early fall, every time.
  • A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske: Magical Edwardian offices, a curse, and two men who should not work but do. It’s cozy and clever.

So, which one should you pick up first?

  • Want big queer feelings in a school setting? Infinity Alchemist.
  • Craving banter, heists, and heat? A Power Unbound.
  • Need quiet dread with silk edges? The Brides of High Hill.
  • In the mood for spooky-but-kind? What Feasts at Night.
  • Want a YA hug with ghosts and grit? The Afterlife of Mal Caldera.

I won’t lie—some nights I read only a page and stared out the window. Some nights I forgot dinner. These books made room for both. And maybe that’s the real magic: a story that meets you where you are, then walks beside you a few steps longer than you planned.
If all these fictional meet-cutes spark a craving for some real-world queer romance, you might be eyeing dating apps to find your own happily-ever-after. I dug around and found a refreshingly candid Hinge review that breaks down its LGBTQ-friendly features, success stats, and profile-writing tips—all the intel you need before swiping right on your next chapter.

Craving something more tactile than page-turning? After a marathon reading session my shoulders seize up, so I started scouting queer-affirming massage spots in Minnesota—during that search I came across a detailed guide to the Rubmaps options in Moorhead that highlights which parlors genuinely welcome LGBTQ patrons, outlines service menus, and even shares tips for booking a stress-melting session without any awkward guesswork.

If you’ve got a 2024 gay fantasy I missed, tell me. My TBR can handle it. Probably.
And if you’re hunting for even deeper dives—comics included—I wrote about the manga volumes that refused to leave my brain here.
And if you’re hunting for even deeper dives and backlist treasures, check out Gay Book Reviews for a trove of queer fantasy recommendations.

—Kayla Sox