Anything by Peter F. Hamilton or Iain Banks is worth the effort. Hamilton's "Night's Dawn" trilogy is an amazing feat of imagination. Hamilton was born and still lives in Rutland. They're all pretty odd from there - it's just up the road from me.
If you're tempted to buy "The Shelters of Stone" by Jean M. Auel, don't bother. It's rubbish and I wasted £5.99. IMHO, of course. She really only comes to life in the sex scenes. A well-researched skin novel, if you'll excuse the multiple entendres. Maybe living in Colorado does that to you.
David Brin's "Kil'n People" is a completely new departure (well, after his hash of the reprise of the "Foundation" series, he had to do something to repair his reputation), and is a really good read. In spite of that, I still haven't forgiven him for the Maori drum ...
I've just finished rereading Roger Zelazny's "Amber" decalogy. Great stuff and easy on the brain. Roger's dead at the moment, so there won't be any more. No, wait! Yes there will be, but it's rubbish from a hack writer trying to ape his betters. Pretty much as bad as the "collaboration" between Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson to cash in on Frank Herbert's Dune series by writing a slough of prequels. I think they got the idea from George Lucas. It's a bad one.
Stephen Baxter's near-future stuff ("Titan" and "Moonseed" are good examples) are really worth the effort if you're a space nut.
Kim Stanley Robinson's RGB Mars series - in fact, anything he's written - is brilliant. He's also put out a collection of short stories connected to the series called "The Martians" which just makes you wish he'd write the whole thing over again so you could have more of it.
Reading (or in my case, rereading for the umpteenth time) Georgette Heyer's historical novels (not the Regency romances) is very much worth the effort. "The Spanish Bride" and "My Lord John" are both outstanding.
Martin Cruz Smith is my fav non-sci-fi author of the moment. His Renko trilogy is brilliant. Trilogy? Nope, there's a fourth book in the series, called "Havana", which sees Renko in, guess, Cuba.
I like to reread Edgar Wallace's "Sanders of the River" series, mainly because it harks back to a simpler, more innocent time, when a handful of white colonialists lorded it over millions of adoring black subjects who'd stab you in the back as quick as look. Bit like the Congo on any day ending in "y", I suppose, except the colonialists are as black as their adoring subjects.
I think that's enough to be going on with.
