Best Books Similar to Weyward by Emilia Hart

This one feels like Weyward’s sister across the sea. It jumps between 1791 London, where Nella secretly sells poisons to women seeking justice, and present-day London, where Caroline, reeling from a crumbling marriage, stumbles across one of Nella’s bottles on the Thames. The two women’s lives connect across centuries in this hypnotic tale of revenge, freedom, and the quiet alchemy of womanhood. The writing is clean but lush, and the apothecary shop itself feels like a character: dark, dusty, and full of secrets. If you loved the herbal magic and women’s resilience in Weyward, this one will pull you in immediately.

Imagine Weyward if it were set in an alternate 1890s, with witches fighting for women’s rights. The Eastwood sisters reunite after years apart -one bookish, one fierce, one broken- and together they bring both the suffrage movement and witchcraft back to life. Harrow writes like she’s weaving a spell: poetic, aching, and full of hope. It’s about sisterhood, power reclaimed, and the bravery of saying “enough.” You’ll fall for the blend of folklore, feminism, and emotional depth. It’s sprawling, political, and full of heart.

Think Weyward’s gentler, more meditative cousin. Inspired by a real woman in 15th-century China, this follows Tan Yunxian from her youth as a sheltered girl to her rise as a respected physician for women. There’s no witchcraft here, but the sense of ritual, healing, and female connection feels deeply magical. You can almost smell the herbs and teas she mixes, and the friendships she forms become her lifeline in a world that keeps trying to confine her. It’s slow, rich, and deeply satisfying, like herbal tea for your soul. Perfect for ones looking for books similar to Weyward.

Dark, cold, and hauntingly beautiful. Set in 17th-century Norway, this novel is based on real witch trials that took place in a tiny Arctic village. The landscape itself is almost hostile -icy wind, endless night- and the women’s suffering feels painfully real. But what makes it special is how it finds warmth and solidarity in that darkness. You can feel the fire of defiance burning under every scene. It’s the kind of book that lingers, long after you close it, with an ache that’s strangely hopeful.

This one’s part fairy tale, part psychological thriller, and all atmosphere. It begins when a woman investigating a mysterious commune deep in the woods suddenly vanishes and from there, the story unfurls like fog creeping through the trees. What starts as a simple search becomes a meditation on belief, isolation, and how far people will go to preserve their own illusions. Ernshaw’s writing is lush and sensory. You can practically smell the damp moss, feel the weight of the silence, and sense the forest watching back. It’s eerie, emotional, and strangely tender at times. If you loved how Weyward made nature feel alive, sentient, and even sacred, this will wrap you in that same haunting beauty and won’t let you go until the last page.

This one feels ancient and intimate all at once, myth retold with a woman’s heart beating at the center. It gives voice to Angrboda, the giantess cast out by the gods for daring to love Loki and for surviving the punishment meant to break her. Her story spans generations: motherhood, grief, fierce love, and the quiet power of enduring when the world wants you erased. The writing is lyrical but grounded: the icy landscapes feel eternal, but the emotions burn vividly human. If Weyward spoke to you through its mythic undertones and its defiant, complex women, this will feel like looking into the same mirror; just frostier, older, and filled with fire under the snow.

Imagine if Weyward’s magic had a modern, cozy afterlife, that’s this book. Mika Moon hides her witchy abilities from a world that wouldn’t understand, until one day she’s invited to teach three young witches at a remote house filled with the quirkiest, kindest misfits. It’s less about spellwork and more about healing, about learning that connection and vulnerability can be their own kind of magic. Mandanna balances humor and heart so perfectly that you’ll smile through tears. It’s the sort of book you read when you need to remember that family isn’t always the one you’re born into, sometimes, it’s the one that finds you. If Weyward left you aching for warmth and renewal after all its storms, this one will feel like sunshine breaking through the clouds. Don’t forget to check the best books similar to The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches!

This one reads like Weyward’s New England cousin. It moves between a modern grad student researching witch trials and the colonial women who lived them. The historical detail is vivid -herbs, potions, church suspicion, all the eerie Salem atmosphere- but what really works is how seamlessly the past bleeds into the present. The mystery feels old-fashioned in the best way, and the magical elements are subtle but powerful. It’s perfect if you love Weyward’s structure of secrets unearthed across time. A perfect gem for readers seeking books similar to Weyward.

This is one of those books that’s more emotional experience than plot. Three women, three centuries, one Scottish coastline where violence and memory overlap. It’s moody, gothic, and quietly devastating. Wyld doesn’t shy away from the ugliness of patriarchal violence, but she also writes with incredible tenderness. The writing is atmospheric -fog, sea spray, ghosts of the past- and it leaves you thinking about what women inherit from each other: strength, silence, and survival. It’s heavier than Weyward, but just as beautifully written.

If you loved Altha’s blend of realism, resilience, and quiet defiance in Weyward, you’ll devour this one. Set during the Pendle witch trials of 1612, it follows Fleetwood Shuttleworth -a young noblewoman desperate to survive a dangerous pregnancy- and Alice Gray, a midwife accused of witchcraft who may be her only hope. It’s a story of female friendship in the face of fear, of how easily women’s wisdom is twisted into accusation. Stacey Halls paints the 17th century in exquisite detail, you’ll feel the chill of the manor halls, smell the herbs drying by the fire, and hear the whispers that can ruin lives. It’s haunting and historical, yes, but also deeply human. Like Weyward, it reminds you that women’s survival is often its own quiet revolution.

This one’s historical fiction that hums with color and defiance. It reimagines the life of the woman who inspired The Scarlet Letter, giving her a voice, a history, and a passion for art that defies the gray, judgmental world around her. Hester is an outsider -an artist navigating a Puritan society that fears what it can’t control- and the way Albanese writes about color, fabric, and creativity feels almost magical. Every brushstroke is rebellion, every secret sketch a form of freedom. It’s a story about survival through beauty, about using art to claim space when the world refuses to make room. If Weyward’s balance of shame, liberation, and quiet power resonated with you, Hester will feel like a continuation of that same fight, but painted in bold, luminous hues.

If Weyward was the whisper of witchcraft through the trees, this one’s the full hurricane. Anne Rice builds an entire dynasty of powerful, haunted women in the Mayfair family. Their story stretches from centuries past to modern-day New Orleans. It’s gothic, lush, sensual, and absolutely enormous in scope. You’ll wander through decaying mansions, family secrets, ancient curses, and the seductive pull of magic that corrupts and empowers in equal measure. Rice’s writing wraps around you like velvet: dark, decadent, and impossible to escape. It’s not a light read, but if you’re in the mood to sink into something atmospheric and generational like Weyward -only grander, heavier, and more dangerous- this is your masterpiece.

This one’s haunting in a completely different way. Set during World War I, it follows a nurse searching for her missing brother amid the mud and horror of the trenches, but she starts sensing something beyond this world, something waiting in the mist. Arden (who wrote The Bear and the Nightingale) blends historical realism with the supernatural so seamlessly that you never quite know what’s real and what’s imagined. The result is heartbreaking and mesmerizing: a meditation on grief, memory, and what we cling to when everything else has burned away. Like Weyward, it finds the sacred inside the sorrow, showing how even in devastation, there’s a flicker of the mystical.

Circe is everything: goddess, exile, witch, survivor. Miller takes a myth you think you know and turns it into something intimate and human. The novel follows Circe’s journey from timid daughter of the sun god to a woman who shapes her own fate. The prose is lyrical, cinematic, and utterly immersive. Like Weyward, it’s about reclaiming a voice after being silenced, and finding freedom in isolation. You’ll close it feeling both heartbroken and empowered. A must-read for readers looking for books similar to Weyward. Check the best books similar to Circe!

If you want that eerie Weyward mood but with a supernatural edge, this is your book. It starts when a mother and her daughters move to a remote Scottish island to paint a mural inside an old lighthouse, but local legends warn of wildlings and witchcraft. Then, one of the daughters disappears. Decades later, she reappears… without having aged a day. The atmosphere is thick with mist and folklore, and the emotional core -a mother trying to hold her family together- will wreck you in the best way.

This is one of those rare historical novels that reclaims forgotten women and lets them speak again. Sharratt retells the true story of the Pendle witches: healers, mothers, and wise women who were branded as heretics. Through her eyes, their so-called witchcraft becomes something deeply human: herbal medicine, intuition, and resilience. The prose is beautiful and immersive, but it’s the emotion that lingers. These women aren’t mythical, they’re painfully real, doing what they can to survive in a world built to break them. If Altha’s chapters were your favorite part of Weyward, this will hit you right in the chest, it’s that same defiant heartbeat, echoing across centuries.

Okay, this one isn’t witchy, but it’s spiritually Weyward. It imagines the life of Ana, a brilliant, outspoken woman who could have been the wife of Jesus and through her eyes, we see the ancient world as a place of silence and constraint for women. But Ana refuses to disappear. Her longing to write, to tell stories, to live fully becomes its own sacred rebellion. The language is lyrical and full of reverence: it reads like scripture rewritten with women restored to their rightful place in the story. If Weyward made you ache for women’s voices to be heard, The Book of Longings is the chorus that answers back.

Morgan’s witches are subtle, wise, and endlessly strong. Set in late 19th-century New York, it’s about two families of witches, one using magic for good, the other for selfish gain. The magic is herbal, earthy, and tied to intuition. It’s got that same grounded magic Weyward does: spells that feel more like prayers or acts of courage than lightning bolts. If you want a sweeping historical novel with feminism and a touch of enchantment and are looking for books similar to Weyward, you’ll love this one.

This might be the most quietly rebellious book on the list. It’s about a woman who spends her life being polite and dutiful until one day, she just… leaves. She moves to the countryside, befriends nature, and slowly becomes a witch. It’s satirical, funny in a dry English way, but also profound. It was written in 1926, yet it feels like it could have inspired Weyward itself. A perfect reminder that sometimes the most radical thing a woman can do is live for herself.