Much of this list is retroactive gratitude for people who worked on this book’s predecessor, Nottingham, whom I may have not met until it was too late to change its acknowledgments.
For both that book and this one, I continually owe my profound thanks …
To all my readers, thank you deeply for spending your time with me and these (very many) pages. Whether you enjoyed them or not, I hope you found that time worthwhile. After all, inspiration doesn’t just come from the things you love, but from the things you don’t … which is what compelled me to write this series in the first place.
To my editor Bess Cozby, for being a die-hard evangelist of this series, who not only always knows how to shape it into its best form, but is also particularly good into tricking me into thinking I came up with each idea myself.
To my agent Jim McCarthy, who is endlessly kind and understanding and has quite curiously not slapped me hard across the face even once, despite the fact that I have very likely deserved it.
To everyone at Tor/Forge Books (regardless of whether they had a hand in this book, because they’re all just fantastic), and specifically to Linda Quinton, Fritz Foy, Lucille Rettino, Patrick Canfield, Lauren Levite, Sarah Reidy, Caroline Perny, Jamie Stafford-Hill, Peter Lutjen, and Lauren Brenzy. Also to Matie Argiropoulos and Dakota Cohen of Macmillan Audio, and, of course, the spectacular audiobook performances for Nottingham by Raphael Corkhill and Marisa Calin, who have become the voices in my head when I write.
To the team at Penguin Random House Australia for bringing me to the other side of the world, particularly to Beverley Cousins, Caitlin Jokovic, and Madison Garratt.
To my wife, Cassie, for once again suffering the worst of keeping the child distracted so I could write.
To the child, Ryland, except no. Quite the opposite. This book exists literally no thanks to you. You have in fact done everything in your three-year-old power to pull me away from writing for so-called critical activities like bulding train tracks, sword-fighting, wrestling with the sleepy monster, and trips to “The Grilled Cheese Store” (which, sorry to blow your mind, isn’t even its real name). You seem to be actively working against me, which means I hereby declare you my mortal enemy. I know you can’t read this yet, but someday you will—and when that day comes, know that you had best arm yourself with the nearest foam sword you can find, for I am very likely standing right behind you and I have been planning this moment for years.
To the cast of the original stage production of The Legend of Robin Hood, whose unforgettable performances continue as my inspiration for their characters. Particularly to those whose roles continued into this book: Elisa Richter, Andrea Dennison-Laufer, Jaycob Hunter, David Chorley, Larry Creagan, Ryan Young, Gabriel Robins, Evan Green, Rob Downs, and Kyle Hawkins. But yes, also to those who I so brutally murdered in the previous book: Frank Tryon, Michael Keeney, Scott Keister, Sabrina Ianacone, Glenn Freeze, Jeremy Krasovic, and Bryce Wieth. And, of course, the crew and contributors: Lauren Shoemaker, Brian and Heidi Newell, Amber Robins, Amanda Zukle, and Sarah Haase.
To the many wonderful new writer friends I’ve made along the way, in every stage of their own journeys, who are far too numerous to try to list here; and particularly to those in the Debut Authors ’19 group for creating a community of people all in need of each other’s advice, experience, and shoulders (both for boosting and for crying).
Finally, to Talisker scotch whisky, who I include here solely in the hopes they will send me a free bottle. Or, you know, any other scotch distillery that would like to beat them to it.