Beware the giant vengeful swan pudding!
Welcome to Tremontaine, the prequel to Ellen Kushner’s beloved Riverside series that began with Swordspoint! A Duchess whose beauty is matched only by her cunning; her husband’s affair with a handsome scholar; a foreigner in a playground of swordplay and secrets; and a mathematical genius on the brink of revolution—when long-buried lies threaten to come to light, betrayal and treachery know no bounds with stakes this high. Mind your manners and enjoy the chocolate in a dance of sparkling wit and political intrigue.
Posts About This Serial
At long last, Kaab and Diane face off in a drawing room duel where the weapon of choice is words.
I think we’re at least as much emotional masochists as literary sadists, forcing ourselves to do cruel and terrible things to our well-loved characters for the sake of a higher pleasure.
New questions arise that can only be answered within the walls of Tremontaine House itself.
Alaya Dawn Johnson is a busy woman but between attending graduate school in Mexico City and writing Tremontaine, she sat down with us for an ant egg tamale and some spicy chocolate. We had questions. She had answers.
I guess what I’m saying is that I have history with the long s.
When Tess finds herself plagued by nightmares of the murdered Ben, Kaab vows to solve the case.
Did I mention that I like swords? In high school, my friends and I used to battle with golf clubs standing in for swords. Later, in college, I joined the fencing team. My weapon was the foil. We had a special T-shirt made up that read "Fencers Do It With a Steel Rod." For some reason, the girls on campus seemed unimpressed with our wit.
A moment of staggering inspiration and insight sets events in motion that have the potential to fracture friendships, shatter alliances, and remake the balance of power in the city . . . and the world.
One little-known fact about me is that I am not a chocolate lover.
Diane's secret arrangement with the Balam family bears fruit as a strategic withholding of chocolate wreaks havoc on the city's social fabric, from the Hill to Riverside.
Willie didn’t have the minnows to lay bets on the lives and swordplay of other men, but even if he did, he’d have kept his predictions to himself. He’d been born with nothing but scruples, and what he’d retained of those was simply this: that he’d make his coin with his two hands because no one else was going to make it for him.