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Margaret
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Nov 14, 2021 11:37AM

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The ninth novel of the bestselling Rivers of London urban fantasy series returns to the adventures of Peter Grant, detective and apprentice wizard, as he solves magical crimes in the city of London.
"There is a world hidden underneath this great city.
The London Silver Vaults—for well over a century, the largest collection of silver for sale in the world. It has more locks than the Bank of England and more cameras than a paparazzi convention.
Not somewhere you can murder someone and vanish without a trace—only that’s what happened.
The disappearing act, the reports of a blinding flash of light, and memory loss amongst the witnesses all make this a case for Detective Constable Peter Grant and the Special Assessment Unit.
Alongside their boss DCI Thomas Nightingale, the SAU find themselves embroiled in a mystery that encompasses London’s tangled history, foreign lands and, most terrifying of all, the North!
And Peter must solve this case soon, because back home his partner Beverley is expecting twins any day now. But what he doesn’t know is that he’s about to encounter something—and somebody—that nobody ever expects…"

Is it... the Spanish Inquisition?? jk I'm super excited about the next Peter Grant story

Is it... the Spanish Inquisition?? jk I'm super excited about the next Pete..."
That was my first thought as well.

Under Kite Hill, 14th February 2016
With apologies to Dylan Thomas
It is night over London - light poisoned and sodium orange. Foxes spy and yell amongst the suburban verges while trolls snore and grumble in their brick and concrete caves. You can hear the long slow freight trains clatter through Gospel Oak and Clapham Junction or stand rumbling, patiently waiting for the red lights to turn green.
Night chases the naughty hen parties around the wicked West End and whips the memories of sheep and ducks down the Caledonian Road. It rides with spinning lightbars on the roofs of police cars and ambulances. It broadcasts sleep from the tip top of Alexandra Palace and scores runs at the Oval. Night noiselessly fires the big guns outside Bedlam and is answered by a silent salute from HMS Belfast. At a thousand clubs and lock-ins, legal and not so legal, night bangs on the door or argues with the bouncers. But it doesn’t matter if they know the DJ if they’re not on the list.
If you stand amongst the discarded beer cans on Kite Hill, you can see the town sleeping the restless half sleep of the insomniac go getter. You can hear the muttering of millions of made up magical stories as the sleepers dream.
Major Nightingale alone in his much too comfortable Regency bed, dreams of mortar fire amongst the pine trees and the faces of the long dead friends he left on a mountainside in Germany. Boy’s Own to the last, he turns to make his stand as the panzers and the things that are not panzers come boiling out of the treeline. He has done this before and he is willing to do it again, except the dead keep asking him why he is still fighting this particular battle. And to his surprise he doesn’t have an answer. ‘Go home,’ they cry. ‘Or you’ll never see what happened next.’
Mamusa Grant, dreams of seeing her husband for the very first time, soloing at Ronnie Scott’s and in her dreams she cannot tell where he ends and the jazz begins. ‘Oh Ricky,’ she murmurs in her sleep. ‘Play me like you play your trumpet.’
Abigail, wrapped in her burning adolescent bed dreams of a lover who will come roaring off the railway line, sweep her off her feet and take her to their magical council estate amongst the clouds. There in their impossibly bouncy castle bed they will kiss all the parts that haven’t been kissed yet and whisper in her ear. ‘You don’t have to choose – you can have everything.’
Alexander Seawoll, child of the moors and ace detective, kicks down a door, in a warehouse in an imaginary episode of The Sweeney and, surprising a cabal of elderly TV producers, recovers all six missing episodes of The Fury of the Deep. For this service to Doctor Who, he is awarded an OBE and a signed photograph of Katy Manning.
Lady Ty dreams of pogoing in front of the stage at the Roxy where X-Ray Spex are thrashing out songs of riot and rebellion. ‘Oh bondage! Up yours!’ she yells silently in the ultrasecure secret fastness of her mind while her sensible self classifies the remark as CONFIDENTIAL.
Nicky, Mama Thames’s treasure, sleeps in a tree house made from genuine ship’s timbers dredged up from the river and dreams of buccaneers and canon fire but also of Umar Hossan, a boy in her class, who gave her a Valentine Card on Friday – even though she never asked him to.
It is still the dark before dawn but the shutters are rat-a-tatting up at Petticoat Lane and Peckham Market. Foxes yawn and check their dead drops before trotting back to their earths.
Zachary Palmer, restless as ever, shifts position on a couch in a furniture warehouse in Enfield and dreams of a woman with no face with whom he can never settle down.
Isis awakes on a bench in the garden behind the Actor’s Church where she and Oxley spent the night after seeing La Traviata and then gate crashing backstage. Now she has awoken to find her husband has conjured up coffee, warm croissants and a single red rose. This is true love, she thinks, not for the first time.
Toby the ghost hunting dog dreams of talking. ‘Sausages,’ he says but, alas, nobody is listening.
Foxglove and Molly dream that they are dancing, or perhaps, dance that they are dreaming. It’s hard to tell the difference and neither of them care.
Beverley Brook shifts uncomfortably in her half sleep and half dreams that whales are leaving messages on her voicemail. When she tells them to be quiet they text and ask her to pass on commodity price tips to the twins.
Peter Grant dreams that he is asleep in a bed with the girl of his dreams and wakes up to find that this is true. He’s lucky that way – he hopes that it will last.
Look, there is the sun rising through the blue glass and grey steel egomaniacal towers of the city. Flashing off the Shard and the top of St Pauls. It whitens the contrails of airliners on final approach to Heathrow. Some of those onboard will never leave the city again – even if their bodies go somewhere else.
Abigail awakes to find that Indigo the fox has sneaked into her room and has curled up under her bed.
She wonders what kind of trouble she can get up to today.

Good point. It could be....
And thank you, Ronnie, for posting that latest Moment by Ben.

Ben will be doing a signing tour to promote the new book.
No further details yet, but I'll keep you all informed.

Monday, April 4th.
Glasgow, Waterstones Argyle Street, 12:30 pm.
Edinburgh, Assembly Roxy, 7:30 pm.
Tuesday, April 5th.
Newcastle, Waterstones Emerson Chambers, 1:00 pm.
York, Screen One, 6:30 pm.
Wednesday, 6th April.
Liverpool, Waterstones, 1:00 pm.
Manchester, Waterstones Deansgate, 6:00 pm.
Thursday, 7th April.
LAUNCH DAY!
Birmingham, Waterstones, 1:00 pm.
Tunbridge Wells, Trinity Theatre, 8:00 pm.
Friday, 8th April.
Norwich, Waterstones, 1:00 pm.
Colchester, Firstsite, 6:00 pm.
Saturday, 9th April.
London, Forbidden Planet, 12:30 pm.
Monday, 11th April.
London, Foyles Charing Cross Road, 7:00 pm.
Wednesday, 13th April.
Bristol, Waterstones Galleries, 1:00 pm.
Swansea, Waterstones, 6:30 pm.
Thursday, 14th April.
Cardiff, Waterstones, 1:00 pm.
Bath, Topping & Co, 7:30 pm.




He still claims he has no overarcing plot and states he has a 'Chekhov's shed' (as opposed to 'Chekhov's gun') of things to come back to, which is what makes him look far more organized than he really is.
They also mention 30-50 characters a book, which seemed surprising to me. Perhaps just counting literally, every single person? Really an interesting session. Enjoyed it a lot.

https://www.thebookseller.com/rights/...

Hence the change of production company.

Hence the change of production company."
That makes sense.


Where have you guys been?
BIG NEWS!!!!
The new RoL novella will be titled "Winter's Gifts", and will be published in June 2023.
The long awaited RoL RPG has just been released by Chaosium. Initially only in PDF format, but with a hardback edition due early in the New Year.

Where have you guys been?
BIG NEWS!!!!
The new RoL novella will be titled "Winter's Gifts", and will be published in June 2023.
The long awaited RoL RPG has just been re..."
I saw that earlier, and hadn't had a chance to post about it. Not that there's much info yet, but a new novella is always welcome news!

Did you look at the stores for Folly-related products? It looks like just t-shirts so I'm a little disappointed. But there's a role-playing game coming out. I'm not into those, but that sounds kind of cool 😊



The latest edition of Ben's email newsletter has arrived, and includes a rather wonderful Christmas Moment starring the Foxes.
I'd like to take this opportunity to wish you all a very Merry Christmas, and all the best for the coming New Year.
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Authors mentioned in this topic
Lois McMaster Bujold (other topics)Ben Aaronovitch (other topics)