Listen, I know what you’re thinking: “What’s a grown-ass adult doing reading Crescent City: House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J. Maas?” Trust me, I asked myself the same thing.
I didn’t grow up with TikTok recommending steamy romance paired with fantasy, but here we are. Blame it on curiosity or the hype about Sarah. What’s life if not a collection of unexpected choices?
Angels? Fae? Some kind of urban-fantasy Game of Thrones meets Buffy the Vampire slayer with smartphones and glow-ups? Sure, why not.
This was the gateway drug book that led me to dive headfirst into Maas’s A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR) and Throne of Glass (TOG). And let me tell you, this rabbit hole DOES NOT have an exit.
But Crescent City isn’t really a “YA smut fantasy,” is it? For one, it’s adult fantasy—more urban, more modern, and, well, filled with characters who curse, drink, and occasionally stab their way through life while navigating grief and trauma. And oh yeah, there’s SMUT galore.
Imagine a world where angels guard the skies, shifters patrol the streets, and the fae rule from their ivory towers. Crescent City is no fairytale kingdom—it’s a sprawling, modern metropolis where magic hums in the air, technology exists side-by-side with ancient lore, and political intrigue runs as deep as the rivers of starlight that cut through the city. Neon lights buzz against old stone facades, nightclub doors open to a world of faeries and demons, and ancient gods wait for someone foolish enough to wake them. This is Lunation.
At the heart of this chaos is Bryce Quinlan. Half-human, half-fae, redhead. THE END.
Still need to read beyond the redhead part? Ok. Bryce isn’t exactly living the dream. She’s a party girl by night, a lowly employee at an antiquities dealer by day for a very shady person (pun intended), and a walking cocktail of sass, sarcasm, and underlying heartbreak. She finds herself thrown into a murder mystery that shakes the city to its foundation and sets Bryce on a path filled with danger, betrayal, and a darkness that feels as though it might consume her.
Lunathion feels alive, pulsing with danger and allure in equal measure. You can almost hear the bassline thrum of the Crescent City clubs, smell the tang of smoke and ash in the air after a demon attack, and feel the crushing weight of political expectations that come with being fae royalty. Maas doesn’t just write a setting; she writes a mood—gritty, sensual, and teetering on the edge of chaos. Forget any simplistic “good vs. evil” narrative. The power struggle between angels, fae, shifters, and humans is as tangled as it is ruthless. Deals are struck in blood, alliances forged in desperation, and enemies made with a single careless word.
Enter Hunt Athalar. Fallen angel. Walking armory. Brooding mess with a hair-trigger temper. Imagine a light brown-skinned Gerard Way that didn’t co-found My Chemical Romance, had a glow-up during his mall security gig, give him wings, abs, and enough firepower to level a building, and you have Hunt Athalar. The Umbra Mortis. He’s as emotionally scarred as she is, and their dynamic is electric (again, pun intended)—not just because of the will-they-won’t-they tension but because they challenge each other in ways that make their partnership feel raw and earned.
The dynamics between Bryce and Hunt are where I sometimes felt that I was reading a love story with a fantasy backdrop, and honestly, it wasn’t as exciting for me as the Tolkien-esque fantasy kingdom that Lunathion starts to introduce. For all the smut in this book, there’s a whole lot of waiting from Bryce and Hunt. Why, Sarah? This plot arc kinda felt cucky. Sure, they’ll have their fans (you know who you are), but personally? I found myself almost skipping those lines to get to the good shit.
But hands down to Sarah, because for all its fantastical elements, Crescent City IS an novel that thrives best on its emotional core. Grief is a constant, gnawing presence in this story—grief for what’s lost, for what could have been, and for what might never be. Maas captures it with an unflinching rawness that sneaks up on you, even in the middle of a high-stakes action scene.
You root for everyone in this book. Except Micah. Fuck that dude.
So, here we are: I, a grown-ass adult, husband, father, knee-deep in Sarah J. Maas’s universe, taking my pre-teens to school with a Throne of Glass volume under my arm. All the dads couldn’t care less and the moms know what’s up. What did I learn? That Crescent City is less of a book and more of a gateway for fantasy lovers with a flair for chaos.
Redheads, angels, and fae politics? God help me.
So but is it worth reading? Hell yes. Is it perfect? No. It’s indulgent, chaotic, and occasionally frustrating with all the “let’s stop thinking about all the deaths and just almost have sex,” but that’s what makes it work. I read the first book in a week and went right into the second. Jumped straight into ACOTAR after that—if you know, you know. What a ride. I understand why this book had people screaming into pillows back then, and it’s as current as you can get. It’s a blockbuster. It’ll break your heart, roll its eyes while you pick up the pieces, and then wink at you before handing over the sequels. That are as good if not better.
The Crescent City series by Sarah J. Maas:
- House of Earth and Blood (2020)
- House of Sky and Breath (2022) – Brace yourself: this is a jaw-dropping book that reshapes how you view the entire Maasverse.
- House of Flame and Shadow (2024)
A fourth installment in the series has been confirmed; however, as of now, there is no official release date announced. I will be reviewing the remaining books in a near future. Stay tuned! And let me know what you think of this book 🙂
Keep questioning, keep exploring, keep reading!
Do you want to get into the Maasverse?
I link each book above. For HOEB exclusively, here’s the link:
