We have made it past Spelunking Through Hell and into the semi-charted waters on the other side of the book that started it all. Alice and Thomas are back together again, at long last, and now, for the first time, they have to learn what that actually looks like—and whether they can live with each other without someone winding up buried in the woods. It’s going to be an adventure, no matter how it shakes out, and I’m so glad to be moving into this phase of the Price-Healy family’s journey—and to have you all along with me. Your readership means the world, it truly does.
I remain a resident of Seattle, and remain steadfast in my determination to stay put for as long as humanly possible. I like where I live, I like my house and my social circle and my cats and my stuff. So I think I’m good. As I write this, we’re still in the middle of a global pandemic, and that makes me even less likely to roam. I hope you’re all okay with the decision not to include COVID-19 in the InCryptid setting. There was just no logical way to make it work, and unlike the real world, fictional realities do need to hang together narratively. Even ones as ridiculous as this.
2022 saw a bit more travel on my part, as I attended both the World Science Fiction Convention in Chicago (I won two Hugos! I had a five-hour panic attack! On the balance of things, I’ll still call it a good convention, albeit an exhausting one) and the San Diego Comic Convention in, well, San Diego. I was fortunate enough to avoid infection in both locations, and am very glad to have gone.
It’s gratitude time! First and foremost, thanks must be offered to my agent, Diana Fox, without whose tireless efforts in the face of personal adversity this book might never have been finished, much less beaten into a publishable shape. Diana went above and beyond what can be expected of an agent, and I am grateful every day that she was willing to put in the effort to make this book as good as it could possibly be.
Thanks to Chris Mangum, who maintains the code for my website, while Tara O’Shea manages the graphics. The words are all on me, which is why the site is so often out of date. Something’s gotta give, and it’s usually going to be me! Thanks to Terri Ash, who has joined the team as my new personal assistant—if you email through the website I just mentioned, she’s the one who’ll send your mail on to me. She’s essential, and I am very glad she’s here.
Thanks to the team at DAW, and to our new team at Astra, where I hope we will have many long and happy years.
Cat update (I know you all live for these): Thomas is a fine senior gentleman now, and while he has a touch of arthritis, his sweaters help to keep him warm, and I’ve set up cat stairs all over the house so he can still come and go as he pleases. Megara remains roughly as intelligent as bread mold, and is very happy as she is—this is not a cat burdened by the weight of a prodigious intellect! Elsie is healthy, fine, and very opinionated, and would like me to stop writing this and pet her. Tinkerbell is a snotty little diva who knows exactly how pretty she is, and Verity would like to speak to the manager. Of life. (If that all seems familiar, it’s because it is. The cats are stable, which is wonderful.)
And now, gratitude in earnest. Thank you to everyone who reads, reviews, and helps to keep this series going; to Kate, for sharing an Airbnb and keeping me sane, as she always does; to Phil, who knows what he did; to Shawn, for being the best brother a girl could possibly want; to Chris Mangum, for being here even when it’s inconvenient; to Whitney Johnson, for doing a friendship on a regular basis; to Manda Cherry, for a heated car seat and a wonderful friendship; to Michelle Dockrey, for my fabulous new pin board; and to my dearest Amy McNally, for everything. Thanks to the members of all four of my current ongoing D&D games. And to you: thank you, so much, for reading.
Any errors in this book are my own. The errors that aren’t here are the ones that all these people helped me fix. I appreciate it so much.
Let’s go home.