Here are 80 books that Throne of the Crescent Moon fans have personally recommended if you like
Throne of the Crescent Moon.
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I’ve always loved things like dragons and dinosaurs, even as a child. And as a Malaysian-born Chinese-Australian, I consumed both Western and Eastern media. I read traditional fantasy books such as The Hobbit and Game of Thrones while simultaneously learning about Chinese folklore and eating zongzi for Dragon Boat Festivals. So, while I’ve always had an interest in dragons, I specifically love the lore, magic, and mythology surrounding East Asian dragons. East Asian dragons are different from the typical fire-breathing dragons we see in Western stories. Unlike in Western media, Eastern dragons are not monsters, and it can be hard to find books that portray them in that light.
This might be cheating a little, as the ‘dragon’ in this book is actually a giant robot-like mecha that is piloted by human soldiers, but I couldn’t leave this list without a mention of Iron Widow.
This is a fierce feminist fantasy re-imagining of China’s only female sovereign, Wu Zetian, and it absolutely pulls no punches. A furiously paced story of vengeance and redemption, this book was a thrill from start to finish.
Pacific Rim meets The Handmaid's Tale in this blend of Chinese history and mecha science fiction for YA readers.
The boys of Huaxia dream of pairing up with girls to pilot Chrysalises, giant transforming robots that can battle the mecha aliens that lurk beyond the Great Wall. It doesn't matter that the girls often die from the mental strain.
When 18-year-old Zetian offers herself up as a concubine-pilot, it's to assassinate the ace male pilot responsible for her sister's death. But she gets her vengeance in a way nobody expected—she kills him through…
It is April 1st, 2038. Day 60 of China's blockade of the rebel island of Taiwan.
The US government has agreed to provide Taiwan with a weapons system so advanced that it can disrupt the balance of power in the region. But what pilot would be crazy enough to run…
I write stories where consequence comes first. I grew up immersed in Greek/Egyptian mythology and fairy tales, but I was always more drawn to the parts they left out. I wanted to know what daily life looked like for someone like Hercules, not just the story beats. Or what happens when the moral of the story isn’t learned. My passion lies in exploring the cost of power, the wounds we carry (that are often excluded from stories), and the myths we create to justify them. I believe the best fantasy doesn’t just help us escape the world, it helps us to look at ours differently.
I picked this up expecting a revenge fantasy story based on what I’d heard, but what I got was something far more brutal.
Much like my #3 pick, this story doesn’t flinch. It dissects power, identity, and the cost of survival with narrative precision. Watching Rin’s descent was nearly voyeuristic; it felt wrong, but you couldn’t help but watch.
This book is an excellent example of fantasy that doesn’t need to pull its punches. It can confront uncomfortable topics head-on and still leaves room for humanity and consequences.
Winner of the Reddit Fantasy Award for Best Debut 2018
'The best fantasy debut of 2018' - WIRED
A brilliantly imaginative epic fantasy debut, inspired by the bloody history of China's twentieth century and filled with treachery and magic.
When Rin aced the Keju - the test to find the most talented students in the Empire - it was a shock to everyone: to the test officials, who couldn't believe a war orphan from Rooster Province could pass without cheating; to Rin's guardians, who had hoped to get rich by marrying her off; and to Rin herself, who realized she…
Historical fantasy is my favorite genre, combining my twin passions of history and mythology/folklore. I especially like to read about unfamiliar times, places, identities, and cultures. What I love best about the fantastical is that it allows me to think and write about deep matters symbolically. As someone still discovering my asexuality in middle age, I’ve always identified best with coming-of-age stories, which is why there are so many young protagonists in both my reading and my writing.
There’s not enough Muslim historical fantasy in the world, and this one is so lavish and full of aching romance—my favorite kind! It takes us from 18th-century Cairo, where con-girl Nahri accidentally summons centuries-old deava warrior Dara, to the fabled City of Brass, its walls covered in enchanted statues, home to rival clans of djinn.
I love how the tribes of Deavabad reflect different parts of the Islamic world and its pre-Islamic culture. For example, the main djinn faith reflects Islam, whereas the deava faith with its fire temple reflects the Zoroastrianism of ancient Persia. It’s a complex, believable world in which I can immerse myself, full of revelations, betrayals, tugs of loyalty, and dilemmas of love.
Nahri has never believed in magic. Certainly, she has power; on the streets of eighteenth-century Cairo, she's a con woman of unsurpassed talent. But she knows better than anyone that the trades she uses to get by-palm readings, zars, and a mysterious gift for healing-are all tricks, both the means to the delightful end of swindling Ottoman nobles and a reliable way to survive.
But when Nahri accidentally summons Dara, an equally sly, darkly mysterious djinn warrior, to her side during one of her cons, she's forced to reconsider her beliefs. For Dara tells Nahri an extraordinary tale: across hot,…
The Year Mrs. Cooper Got Out More
by
Meredith Marple,
The coastal tourist town of Great Wharf, Maine, boasts a crime rate so low you might suspect someone’s lying.
Nevertheless, jobless empty nester Mallory Cooper has become increasingly reclusive and fearful. Careful to keep the red wine handy and loath to leave the house, Mallory misses her happier self—and so…
I am a disabled author and podcaster who loves fantasy, but wanted more out of the genre than the Eurocentric Lord of the Rings model. I grew up watching Aladdin, reading Egyptian mythology, and one of my most prized books is an illustrated Shahnameh. There are brilliant stories set in deserts and rainforests, with intense magic and danger, and I hope you’ll enjoy these as much as I do.
The Viper stalks at night. Esha the rebel’s highly trained assassin tasked with the murder of General Hotha and the undermining of King Vardaan’s rule. Kunal is an equally impressive soldier, the nephew of Hotha, and on the hunt for the Viper. When their paths cross, sparks fly, and loyalties are tested.
Y.A. is ahead of general fantasy for representation, both of BIPOC and LGBTQA*. The Tiger at Midnight is heavily inspired by Hindu mythology and Indian cultures, bringing an incredible setting to an excellent Y.A. story. And the cover is absolutely stunning.
The first book in an epic heart-pounding fantasy trilogy inspired by ancient Indian historyand Hindu mythology, perfect for fans of Sabaa Tahir and Renée Ahdieh.
* A Book Riot Most Anticipated Novel of 2019 * B&N Top 50 Most Anticipated Novels *
A broken bond. A dying land. A cat-and-mouse game that can only end in bloodshed.
Esha lost everything in the royal coup—and as the legendary rebel known as the Viper, she’s made the guilty pay. Now she’s been tasked with her most important mission to date: taking down the ruthless General Hotha.
It took me a long time to realize that the books I write have always (always) been about trauma. (I write fantasy, so the link wasn’t immediately apparent to me.) But now that I’ve seen it, I can’t unsee it. Likewise, it took me a long time to notice that all my favorite magical books were the ones that seemed to be trying to find a new language for the terrible things that can happen to and around us. Magic provides a powerful language for psychological pain. It can make it more real. It can make it more digestible. It can help us to see it more clearly. Fiction tells lies that make reality bearable and understandable—and magical fiction is no different. Which is why it will probably always be my favorite kind.
Karen Foxlee is—hands down—one of my favorite writers ever. She writes so beautifully and compassionately about what it feels like to be lost or sad or afraid, and Ophelia and the Marvelous Boy is no exception. This retelling of The Snow Queen takes place in a snowbound museum filled with arcane objects. The main character, Ophelia, is grieving the loss of her mother. And even though she doesn’t consider herself very brave, she volunteers for a quest that will change the world—and begin to heal her heart. I love this book for its gentleness, its beauty, its snowy cosiness, and its powerful portrayal of a girl moving within—and through—grief.
“Magic is “messy and dangerous and filled with longing,” we learn in this brave tale of grief, villainy and redemption that borrows from the story of the Snow Queen. Set in a vast, chilly museum, the tale brings together a valiant girl, a charmed boy, a magical sword and a clock ticking down to the end of the world.”—The Wall Street Journal
This is the story of unlikely heroine Ophelia Jane Worthington-Whittard who doesn't believe in anything that can't be proven by science. She and her sister Alice are still grieving for their dead mother when their father takes a…
I've been a fantasy reader since the fourth grade when my father introduced me to The Hobbit. As I grew older, I found myself drawn to female-led fantasy stories. Before I started writing fiction, I reviewed books on a (now defunct) blog, learning from those authors as I critiqued what worked and what didn’t. Now, as a fiction author in my own right, I’ve focused on the story elements that truly speak to me; characters who live and breathe on the page, adventures through magical lands and diverse cultures, myths that feel so true they could almost be real, and heart-pounding action that breaks me out of my own safe little world.
This book was an emotional rollercoaster ride filled with everything I love about epic fantasy, but without the stereotypical cookie-cutter women. Set in an alternate ancient middle east, where sultans rule and magic is elemental, Naime is the only child of the declining sultan. She’s smart, self-controlled, a powerful air mage, and dedicated to the prosperity of her kingdom. Unfortunately, the king’s council is mired in tradition and opposed to a woman on the throne. With the threat of invasion from a technologically superior anti-magic nation, Naime must navigate the web of political intrigue to broker an alliance with the neighboring warrior realm. Enter Makram, brother to their king and one of the powerful (and feared) death mages. As obstacles are thrown in Naime’s way, success is not guaranteed. There were moments I had to pause to breathe, the tension was so high. I loved every minute.
Don’t mess with the hothead—or he might just mess with you. Slater Ibáñez is only interested in two kinds of guys: the ones he wants to punch, and the ones he sleeps with. Things get interesting when they start to overlap. A freelance investigator, Slater trolls the dark side of…
I’ve been reading books about dark content since I was a teenager, and I’ve always loved the understanding and companionship it provides to people who carry around broken pieces of themselves. Over the years, this interest in hardship has become a lot more specific; I’ve discovered my own queer identity, which has cause me to seek shelter in queer fantasy. It also inevitably lead me to queer Norse mythology, whose source material is dripping with queer hints for anyone with the historical knowledge to find them. Combining all these things, I’ve gathered a large collection of stories that promise to help you lick your wounds, all while drawing you into the next chapter.
This book is just fun, but it’s also a weird kind of fun. Short and to the point, it follows two monstrous men as they wreak deadly havoc on a dark little town. It leans heavily on the media’s history of queer-coding villains in stories and allows the characters to be unapologetically evil. Readers who enjoy this book will find themselves thinking the pair are strangely cute together, all the while trying to remember that they’re very dangerous. It’s great as an audiobook and makes the perfect palate cleaners between longer books.
“A black tide of perversity, violence, and lush writing. I loved it.” —Joe Hill
A Finalist for the 2019 Shirley Jackson Award!
Debut author Jennifer Giesbrecht paints a darkly compelling fantasy of revenge in The Monster of Elendhaven, a dark fantasy about murder, a monster, and the magician who loves both.
The city of Elendhaven sulks on the edge of the ocean. Wracked by plague, abandoned by the South, stripped of industry and left to die. But not everything dies so easily. A thing without a name stalks the city, a thing shaped like a man, with a dark heart…
In school, I wasn’t fond of physics. Most of my education focused on the history of human civilization and culture. I rediscovered physics partly thanks to the books mentioned here—and the strangeness of quanta. My studies, exposure to Tao and Zen philosophies, and exploration of physics have given me a unique perspective and awareness: humanity is merely a tiny particle in the universe, neither central nor the king of all creation. Nothing new, of course—Buddha, Heraclitus, and Shakespeare all knew it well.
Terry Pratchett’s Discworld hooked me from the very first pages—cliché as that may sound, it’s true. Virtually the entire book (as well as others from the Discworld) I read with a smile on my face.
Pratchett’s unique humor, his satirical take on human nature, the imaginative world of Discworld, and his reflections on reality come together in a brilliant mix that made me read… and read… and read.
On a world supported on the back of a giant turtle (sex unknown), a gleeful, explosive, wickedly eccentric expedition sets out. There's an avaricious buy inept wizard, a naive tourist whose luggage moves on hundreds of dear little legs, dragons who only exist if you believe in them, and of course The Edge of the planet...
I became passionate about this subject when I was at university and I realised that so many revolutions that were conducted in the name of high ideals ended up involving considerable suffering and death on the part of the ordinary people. And not just the ordinary people, but the revolutionaries as well. Why, I wondered, was this the case, and did it mean, as many in the 1960s and 1970s argued, that revolution was ultimately self-defeating? The quest to answer these questions remains on-going, but the books I have suggested have helped me to make some headway towards a resolution.
I loved this 2019 mainly theoretical study because of the ambition it reflected and the major advances it provided. Lawson’s distinctions between revolutionary situations, revolutionary trajectories, and revolutionary outcomes provide an innovative framework for understanding revolutions.
Its analytical methodology, combined with some case studies, constitutes an immensely rich and engaging study of revolution, which helped to clarify much of my own thinking on this subject. This combination of theory and case studies made this a joy to read.
I became passionate about this subject when I was at university and I realised that so many revolutions that were conducted in the name of high ideals ended up involving considerable suffering and death on the part of the ordinary people. And not just the ordinary people, but the revolutionaries as well. Why, I wondered, was this the case, and did it mean, as many in the 1960s and 1970s argued, that revolution was ultimately self-defeating? The quest to answer these questions remains on-going, but the books I have suggested have helped me to make some headway towards a resolution.
I found this comparative study of England, France and Russia an elegant and theoretically sophisticated analysis of three of what are considered to be the “great revolutions”.
It is a 2014 reworking of the 1938 classic by Crane Brinton and, like its predecessor, its great strength is in its comparative historical analysis. I loved the depth of historical analysis of each of the case studies, with sufficient detail to enable me at times to reach different conclusions from the author.
It was also able to go beyond Brinton’s original, in terms both of its historical detail and theoretical sweep. Its ambition, grounded in the case studies, was exhilarating.