My nine year old daughter loves E Nesbit's books: Five Children and It, The Phoenix and the Carpet, The Story of the Amulet etc.
Gaiman's Coraline is a favourite too (she has a signed copy).
Thinking ahead - you have a whole lot to get through already; enough to last you a couple of years - my 11 year old loved H G Wells' War of the Worlds and The Time Machine and was utterly hooked by Wyndham's The Day of the Triffids. She also found parts of Robert Sheckley's Dimension of Miracles so funny I had to read them over to her again and again. I lent her the first volume of PK Dick's short stories last week. Our bedtime read at the moment - when we get to it - is Mark Twain's A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. One of the sadnesses of my life is that she is growing out of the bedtime read ritual, preferring instead to read on her own - and I was so looking forward to rediscovering Robert Heinlein's juveniles. Admittedly she has a reading age way beyond her years - one of the real positive aspects of her autism - but never underestimate what kids will like. I'm in my 50s now and am still coming across stories by the likes of Damon Knight, Robert Sheckley, Alfred Bester, Frederick Pohl etc. that I must have last read when I was about nine. (The specific memories they invoke allow me to place when I read them quite accurately. We moved house a lot.) I'm not sure how much I really understood of them as a kid but the images I took from them and the sheer Gosh Wow! of it all still echo.