As always, four people without whom …
Bren Abercrombie, whose eyes are sore from reading it.
Nick Abercrombie, whose ears are sore from hearing about it.
Rob Abercrombie, whose fingers are sore from turning the pages.
Lou Abercrombie, whose arms are sore from holding me up.
Then, because no man is an island, especially this one, my heartfelt thanks:
For planting the seed of this idea: Nick Lake
For making sure the sprout grew to a tree: Robert Kirby
For making sure the tree bore golden fruit: Jane Johnson
Then, because the fruit metaphor has run its course, all those who’ve helped make, market, publish, publicize, illustrate, translate, and above all sell my books wherever they may be around the world but, in particular: Natasha Bardon, Emma Coode, Ben North, Tricia Narwani, Jonathan Lyons, and Ginger Clark.
To the artists somehow rising to the impossible challenge of making me look classy: Nicolette Caven, Mike Bryan, and Dave Stevenson.
For endless enthusiasm and support in all weathers: Gillian Redfearn.
And to all the writers whose paths have crossed mine on the Internet, at the bar, or in some cases even on the printed page, and who’ve provided help, advice, laughs, and plenty of ideas worth the stealing.
You know who you are.…