The Best Latine Books of 2026 So Far

An unnamed narrator in Barcelona is grieving the tragic loss of Diego, the brother she helped raise in Mexico when their mother was trying to make a living in Spain. Ashes in hand, she returns to Mexico, reliving painful memories from the life she shared with Diego. This is a novel about loss, migration, and separation that both feels painfully timely and evergreen in its themes. It’s translated by Megan McDowell, whose translated for folks like Mariana Enriquez and Samantha Schweblin.

I’ve known Cynthia Pelayo’s horror game was strong since Loteria left me staring at a wall, wondering if I’d ever look at the card game I grew up playing the same way again. She’s the first Latina and first Puerto Rican to win the Bram Stoker Award and has a deep backlist of banger after chilling banger, but her name doesn’t come up in horror lists nearly as often as it should. If you’ve yet to venture into the Pelayoland, consider this twisted Peter Pan retelling set during WWI your official invitation. Pelayo’s prose is as gorgeous as the world she creates is lush and terrifying. If you’ve ever thought the idea of Neverland sounded kinda creepy, this might be your perfect read.

Putting aside my discomfort that a historical novel can be set in 2007, this is a fantastic meditation on a very particular moment in Brooklyn history. The neighborhood where the main character, Alicia, lives is Fort Greene. She finds joy and possibility in the all-night parties thrown by her neighbor La Garza. Neither Alicia nor her friends realize that the coolness of Fort Greene is going to upend the neighborhood. Before the construction of the Barclays Center, and right at the tipping point of Brooklyn becoming expensive, Alicia and her friends and family try to find their way in NYC. —Julia Rittenberg

It seems my prayers for more gothic Latine lit are finally being answered, this time with a creepy lil’ doll! In late 1960s Oakland, Natalia is a queer, Latine, working-class witch who schemes her way into a caretaker position for Violeta Miramontes, a glamorous heiress to Spanish colonial wealth who’s been paralyzed by a mysterious illness. Natalia, whose mother once worked for the Miramontes, suspects Violeta’s condition is the work of malevolent witchcraft and vows to break the curse, a task that will endanger not only Violeta but herself. Make sure to read the author’s note, which provides some great context for the people and places that may (or may not) have inspired the story.

The premise of Mia Sosa’s latest romance was an immediate yes for me, and not just because the MC and I share a first name. Vanessa Cordero’s very profitable side hustle is dating people’s crushes and making their lives miserable—she’ll be clingy and jealous and terrible to their parents, anything to make her clients look pretty damn attractive by comparison. (Do I…need a new side hustle?!) Her younger sister has a crush on a certified commitmentphobe (who’s conveniently on the hunt for a fake girlfriend to appease his mom), and begs Vanessa to take on one last gig. Her instructions are clear: Lisa wants her to date Jason, scare him off, and send him running to her, and not to touch or fool around with him on the mission. The trouble is, Vanessa can’t seem to shake the guy, no matter how hard she tries.

More! gothic! Latine! lit! Huzzah! Papi Ramon is the recently deceased patriarch of a wealthy family, and he’s sown some light chaos in his final will and testament: he reveals that someone in the family is a demon he made a bargain with long ago, and they need to suss out and get rid of said demon or else be damned. No one takes it seriously, save for his undisputed favorite, Xiomara. But when the rest of the family sends the lawyer away to retrieve the original will—you know, to be sure—a storm hits and leaves them all stranded together. Over a harrowing 12-hour time period, all hell breaks loose, and it’s up to Xiomara to find the demon and take them out.