Welcome to the Jungle (of Urban Fantasy Worlds)
Let’s be honest: half the fun of reading (or writing) urban fantasy is getting lost in worlds that feel like your city—only with more demons, hotter vampires, and way worse public transport.
Worldbuilding in urban fantasy is a peculiar kind of magic. You’re not creating Middle-earth from scratch; you’re taking our world and twisting it just enough to make readers question whether their grumpy neighbor is secretly a fae prince who’s one latte away from declaring war.
Urban fantasy thrives on layers — the mundane, the magical, and the messy bits in between. The office worker who files taxes and hunts werewolves on weekends. The dive bar where the bartender pours whiskey for cops and witches alike. The idea that magic hides in plain sight, surviving on the edge of our reality like an inside joke the world forgot to explain.
And there are so many flavors of it!
- Gritty noir worlds where everything smells like cigarette smoke and rain, and the hero hasn’t slept since the vampire uprising of 2012.
- Glamorous, high-magic cities where magic is a luxury commodity and everyone wants a piece of it (even if it bites back).
- Small-town secrets where the grocery store cashier knows exactly what kind of salt keeps demons at bay.
- Post-apocalyptic urban fantasy — because apparently, we weren’t chaotic enough before the world ended.
The beauty of it all? Every world says something different about us. About how we live, what we hide, and how we imagine escape. Urban fantasy lets us believe that behind every streetlight flicker is a story waiting to be told — or a warlock losing control of his magic again (we’ve all been there).
If you’ve ever read two different urban fantasies and thought, “Wow, these worlds couldn’t be more different,” that’s the point. The genre isn’t about finding one perfect version of magic — it’s about exploring the infinite ways it can collide with reality and still make sense.
So the next time you open an urban fantasy and find yourself knee-deep in a secret underworld under Chicago, or a demon-infested London, or a haunted New Orleans bar where the beer taps never work — take a moment to appreciate the chaos. Every author is saying: What if?
And somehow, against all logic and rent prices, the answer is always yes.
Meanwhile, in Babylon City…
In my Babylon City Hunters series, the “what if” takes the form of mortal humans trying to keep that chaos in check. Hunters are the unsung janitors of the supernatural world — the ones cleaning up after vampires, patching up magic leaks, and making sure the average citizen never finds out their coworker sprouts fangs under the full moon. It’s messy, dangerous, and often hilarious — especially when you’re new on the job and discovering that the training manual doesn’t cover half the nonsense you’ll run into.
Because in Babylon City, the monsters aren’t the only ones breaking the rules.