The ninth book in the Women of the Otherworld series, 2008

With every book, I thank my agent, Helen Heller, and my editors, to whom I'm always indebted. But this one needs an unusually big thank-you to my editors. Writing multiple points-of-view had its challenges, primarily that more voices meant more blather… and a bloated first draft. A huge thanks to Anne Groell of Bantam US, Antonia Hodgson of Little Brown UK and, particularly, Anne Collins of Random House Canada (who wields the most incisive blue pencil I know). Thanks for your support and guidance, which made the process so much easier.

Thanks, too, to John G. for his help with Finn's detective parts. Any errors in police procedure are mine. As much as John tried to help me make Finn's investigation realistic, sometimes the needs of story take precedence over verisimilitude… so I must take the blame for the errors.

Big thanks as always to my beta readers, who help me catch the little bugs that crop up in every manuscript. Again, any remaining errors are mine. They're readers, not miracle workers! Thanks to Xaviere Daumarie, Laura Stutts, Raina Toomey, Lesley W, Ang Yan Ming, Terri Giesbrecht and Danielle Wegner.

To call Portia Kane a waste of space was being charitable. She was negative space – a vacuum that sucked in everything around her. An entire industry had grown up to service this spoiled "celebutante." Lives were wasted catering to her whims, feeding her ego, splashing her vapid face across the news.

And for what? She wasn't smart, wasn't talented, wasn't pretty, wasn't even interesting. Adele should know. She'd spent the last two years wallowing in the oatmeal mush that was Portia's mind. But soon she'd be free. If she dared.