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* * *

Me and Priya paid for Miss Lizzie’s inventor’s license in return for her taking Priya on as a formal apprentice.

That’s going well. So long as they don’t blow themselves up.

I send the Marshal a letter once in a while. His Jennie reads ’em to him, and she writes me back. She says she’ll ask Tomoatooah about a filly for me, when he gets around to getting Scout in foal. I just about think he might sell me one. Maybe I’ll even take the train down there to get her when she’s old enough to travel, and meet all the little Reeveses, too.

The house me and Priya bought together with our share of the reward has a nice bit of land attached, and Molly’s going to need a stablemate once we’re done teaching Priya to ride.

Mr. Colony took my manuscript to Chicago, and now you hold my book in your hand.

* * *

Madame ran for mayor.

Unopposed.

Author’s Note

Rapid City is not any one real place but a sort of Ur-place, a compilation derived of elements of historic Portland, Vancouver, San Francisco, and Seattle.

Madame Damnable is inspired by but not in any factual way based upon Seattle’s legendary real Mother Damnable, Mary Ann Conklin (1821–1873), who is supposed to have run a city courthouse downstairs and a brothel upstairs in the same house on King Street.

The character of Merry Lee is very loosely based upon the exploits of heroic women such as San Francisco’s Tye Leung Schulze (1887–1972), who was incidentally also the first Chinese woman to cast a ballot in North America, many of them of Asian heritage, who did what they could to help their “frail sisters” who were exploited, enslaved, and legislated against.

U.S. Marshal Bass Reeves (1838–1910) was a real person and is believed by some historians of popular culture to have been the model for the Lone Ranger. The real Bass Reeves, to my knowledge, never made it that far northwest of the Indian Territory — but he did have a luxuriant mustache and a truly impressive number of children.

Tomoatooah, I am sad to say, is entirely a figment of my own imagination.

Brookfield, Massachusetts

10 May 2014

Acknowledgments

This book and its author owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to too many people to enumerate here — and a few I would be extremely remiss if I neglected to thank. These include Beth Meacham, editor extraordinaire; Jennifer Jackson and Michael Curry of the Donald Maass Literary Agency; copy editor Barbara Wild (who caught a couple of truly embarrassing errors and kept me honest the rest of the time); and Irene Gallo, Lauren Hougen, Ardi Alspach, Amy Saxon, and the rest of the art, production, publicity, and marketing people at Tor Books who do such incredible work in making me look good.

I’ve often said that it takes a village to write a novel, and this one was no different. While I was aided by and owe a debt of gratitude to the authors of the numerous books and Web sites on nineteenth-century feminism, the Wild West flesh trade, culture and history, the Plains tribes, and the history of the Pacific Northwest I have consumed over the past few years, I’d like to mention a few people who provided personal assistance. Catherine Kehl was very generous with her time in providing me with Chinese swearwords. Sheenu and Kay Srinivasan and Asha Srinivasan Shipman have been irreplaceable resources on Hindu religion and Indian culture. Mary Kay Kare, Caitlin Kittredge, and Cherie Priest were my tour guides to Seattle, and Jaime Moyer and Kelly Morrisseau took me all over San Francisco. Siobhan Carroll and C. G. Cameron provided Vancouver-related intelligence.

My colleagues and friends Amanda Downum, Sarah Monette, Jodi Meadows, Emma Bull, Stephen Shipman, and Jeff MacDonald were — as always — instrumental in maintaining my sanity during the creative process. I am also beholden to my mother, Karen Westerholm, and her spouse, Beth Coughlin, who excel both at sliding flat food under the door and at general moral sustenance.

I also wish to thank my beloved and brilliant Scott — partner, sounding board, backstop — whose support, love, tolerance, and understanding of the occasional vagaries of the writing and publishing process make everything that much easier.

About the Author

ELIZABETH BEAR was the recipient of the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer in 2005. She has won two Hugo Awards for her short fiction, a Sturgeon Award, and the Locus Award for Best First Novel. Bear lives in Brookfield, Massachusetts.