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, my heartfelt thanks:
To all the lovely and talented folks at my UK Publisher, Gollancz, and their parent Orion, particularly Simon Spanton, Jon Weir, Jen McMenemy, Mark Stay and Jon Wood. Then, of course, all those who’ve helped make, publish, publicise, translate and above all sell my books wherever they may be around the world.
To the artists responsible for somehow continuing to make me look classy: Didier Graffet, Dave Senior and Laura Brett.
To editors across the Pond: Devi Pillai and Lou Anders.
For keeping the wolf on the right side of the door: Robert Kirby.
To all the writers whose paths have crossed mine on the internet, at the bar, or in some cases on the D&D table and the shooting range, and who’ve provided help, support, laughs and plenty of ideas worth the stealing. You know who you are.
And lastly, yet firstly:
My partner in crimes against fantasy fiction, Gillian Redfearn. I mean Butch Cassidy wasn’t gloriously slaughtered on his own, now, was he?