Revenge of the Wrought-Iron Flamingos

To all the dedicated reenactors and craftspeople who contributed to my research. Thanks for preventing so many embarrassing mistakes and anachronisms – I hope you can forgive and laugh at the equally embarrassing ones I've made instead.

To the friends who listened oh so patiently to everything I learned about muskets, cannons, eighteenth-century costume, Colonial-era medicine, and countless other subjects that went into the writing of this book. I can only promise that at least I'll have a new and different set of obsessions next time.

And especially to Tracey and Bill, for continuing to let me borrow Spike; Elizabeth, for always pushing me to be a little better (not to mention the usual ending magic); Lauren, Mary, and Sheryle, for sharing words, wisdom, and pizza; Suzanne, possibly the world's best long-distance coach and cheerleader; Dave, who unmasked Cousin Horace, despite the assumed name; and all my online friends who were there when I needed them and understood when I wasn't there because I had to write.

To Ruth Cavin, Julie Sullivan, and the crew at St. Martin's, and to Ellen Geiger and Anna Abreu at Curtis Brown, for taking such good care of all the practical publishing stuff so I could concentrate on the fun part.

And to Mom and Dad, for choosing to live in the middle of the Yorktown Battlefields. It's all your fault, you know, and I can't thank you enough.