Between Kings
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I have a lot of names these days—including my own, real name. Unfortunately for me, someone else knows that name too; not to mention the names of my other heirling friends. Now those heirling friends have disappeared, stolen by the current King Behind for a fight to the death where only one contender to the throne remains.
The rules say there’s no way in and only one way out of that fight, but I’ve always preferred to work outside the rules. I just have to trust my friends to help each other stay alive long enough for me to get them out—without becoming a contender for the throne myself.
Because one thing is for sure: I am absolutely not planning on being the next King Behind.
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W.R. Gingell is a Tasmanian author of urban fantasy, fairy-tale retellings, and madcap science fiction who doesn’t seem to be able to write a book without a body suddenly turning up. She solemnly swears that all such bodies are strictly fictional in nature.
W.R. spends her time reading, drinking a truly ridiculous amount of tea, and slouching in front of the fire to write. Like Peter Pan, she never really grew up, and is still occasionally to be found climbing trees.
