My daughters and I had a fantastic trip to Paris this Spring. On the itinerary: the Ifle Tower [sic], the Mona Lisa and lots and lots of chocolate croissants. Of course my thoughts also turned to reading material. Here are a few of my favourite Parisian page-turners, which I shared in my free bookish newsletter, but I’d love some recommendations for new books set in the city, please?

My beloved Beasts of Paris is out in paperback at last and I made my book club read it so I’m getting a cheeky re-read in! If you like epic historical fiction, beautiful evocations of the City of Lights, strong women, forbidden love stories, big cats, candlelit cafes in snowy streets, characters finding a place in a world that doesn’t understand them, drama and peril… this is for you. It’s wonderful.

It’s decades since I read The Hare with Amber Eyes, Edmund de Waal’s gorgeous biography of his family, but I loved it. Inspired by his great uncle’s collection of netsuke — intricate Japanese carvings — he embarks on a voyage of discovery through his ancestors’ often turbulent stories beginning in 1870s Paris.

Little by Edward Carey is a strange, beautifully written fictionalised history of Madame Tussaud, following her from the eerie workshop of lonely Doctor Curtius to the Monkey House in Revolutionary Paris and even a cupboard at Versailles. Fascinating, often gruesome (the horrifying heft of a head!), frequently moving and always intriguing.

I might have loved Katherine Rundell’s Rooftoppers even more than the kids did. I fell hard for eccentric Charles Maxim, who takes Sophie in after a shipwreck, and the cast of characters with whom she gallops over Paris rooftops. It’s moving, wry, brilliantly plotted and beautifully written, like everything Katherine does (I am a huge fangirl!)

It’s years since I read Hilary Mantel’s A Place of Greater Safety but I spent an entire beach holiday in my twenties in Revolutionary Paris. She brings all her mastery of character and place to this bloody and turbulent era and it took me over. Plus, I learned a lot about a period I only vaguely knew about. Terror, humanity, corruption and drama - this has it all.

OK, The Final Revival of Opal and Nev is largely set in America, but the section in which rock star Opal Jewel — such an iconic character — moves to 1970s Paris is one of my favourites, and I never miss a chance to recommend this banging read. Dawnie Walton brings the city’s culture to vivid life and even features a sparkling fashion show held at Versailles.

The Madwomen’s Ball by Victoria Mas, translated by Frank Wynne, is a slim, atmospheric novel set in the Salpêtrière women’s hospital and the beau monde of 19th century Paris. Patients were subject to public exhibitions of hypnosis, and an annual ball was held during which curious Parisians could encounter the women. These extraordinary historical details inspire this gothic tale of inconveniently strong-willed women, social rebellion and the supernatural.

Rediscovered in a suitcase after Irène Némirovsky’s tragic death in Auschwitz, Suite Française is an astonishing testament to its author’s spirit. In the first half a group of Parisians flee the invading Nazis in terror and chaos, but the novel also offers poignant notes of hope, love and nobility.

French Exit stars spoilt, hilariously acid Frances, her childish, inept son Malcolm and Small Frank, a cat who Frances believes is the reincarnation of her despised husband. It’s a fizzing, absurdist tragicomedy. I loved Frances and Joan cackling in their pyjamas together (goals), the cloying and very funny neediness of Mme Reynard and everything about Small Frank.

Compelling and energetic, but Vernon’s not for the faint-hearted: Virginie Despentes (translated by Frank Wynne) takes us tearing through Paris’ skanky underbelly with a cast of rickety, often unpleasant characters. There’s sex, drugs, violence, a flashlight shone into murky psyches and a look at what happens when party kids start ageing, but there’s pathos here too. Raw and riotous. I have my eye on her brilliantly named new novel, Dear Dickhead, too.

I loved Anna Mazzola’s atmospheric and gripping The Clockwork Girl. The filth and splendour of eighteenth century Paris and reeking, glittering Versailles leapt off the page. I was absolutely gripped by the stories of the women forced to play dangerous games to navigate this treacherous world — if you like this, you’ll also love Lucy Jago’s A Net for Small Fishes — and the gothic touches were brilliantly handled.