Wolfsbane

AUTHOR’S NOTE Which, not being a part of the story, may be skipped

I wrote Wolfsbane in between When Demons Walk and The Hob’s Bargain.

Careerwise, it was a dumb thing to do, and I knew it. Masques had been out of print for a couple of years by that point, and I was aware that its sales figures were abysmal and no one in his right mind would reprint it. My editor, Laura Anne Gilman, had left Ace for Roc (which at the time was owned by a different publishing company). After she left, Ace politely declined publishing When Demons Walk, for several very good reasons. First, the editor who had liked my work was gone. Second, my sales record was not good. Masques had failed. Steal the Dragon had done all right, but it’d had a terrific cover by Royo. I was pretty sure that, at least for the time being, my career as a writer was over. So I wrote the book I wanted to write.

I had lived with Wolf in my head since I was in fifth or sixth grade . . . maybe since I first read The Black Stallion by Walter Farley and recognized the pull of the powerful, dangerous creature who loves only one person. By the time I’d written three books, I knew that I had a lot to learn—and that I had learned a lot about writing since I wrote Masques. I still consider The Hob’s Bargain my first professional work. It was the first book I wrote that turned out exactly as I’d envisioned it, the first one that I wrote from craft rather than instinct. I wanted to take those new skills and turn my hand to giving Wolf and Aralorn a story more worthy of them.

Wolfsbane was the result. Eventually, somewhat to our mutual surprise, Ace bought When Demons Walk, The Hob’s Bargain, and the first book that really sold well for us, Dragon Bones. Wolfsbane stayed on my shelves, and every once in a while I thought a little wistfully about it. I admit, believing that this day of publication would never come, I borrowed things from Wolfsbane for other stories—you might see them. You might even pick up on a few that I haven’t noticed.

So here, for your enjoyment, is a book from early in my career that has never seen the light of day—and without you, dear readers, would still be moldering on a floppy disk somewhere. I hope you have as much fun with it as I have.

BEST WISHES,

PATRICIA BRIGGS

SOMEWHERE IN THE DESERT OF EASTERN WASHINGTON