Autorentext
Ursula Vernon, aka T. Kingfisher is the author and illustrator of far more projects than is probably healthy. She has written over fifty novels for both children and adults, an epic webcomic called “Digger” and various short stories and other odds and ends. The daughter of an artist, she spent her youth attempting to rebel, but eventually succumbed to the siren song of paint (although not before getting a degree in anthropology.) Ursula grew up in Oregon and Arizona, went to college at Macalester College in Minnesota, and stayed there for ten years, until she finally learned to drive in deep snow and was obligated to leave the state. Having moved across the country several times, she eventually settled in New Mexico, where she works full-time as an artist and creator of oddities. She lives with her husband, her garden, and his chickens.

Klappentext

The roguish charlatan Astarion will free himself from a centuries-long fate of servitude or die (a second time) trying—in this decadently dark fantasy adventure by award-winning author T. Kingfisher.

You’re too pretty to die.

Astarion Ancunin was supposed to be a magistrate, not a vampire spawn. He was supposed to serve the law, not the vicious vampire lord Cazador Szarr. And he was supposed to drink fine wine, not rat blood. Alas—the city of Baldur’s Gate cares little for what’s supposed to happen.

Though he has been powerless to resist his master’s bidding, haunting the nighttime streets to fetch warm blood, Astarion has never surrendered his hope. One day, this nightmare must end. He just has to find out how.

When the vampire lord announces a twisted competition for his favor, an opportunity presents itself in the form of a rare prize . . . and an unlikely alliance. The blood of a dead god is buried deep beneath Baldur’s Gate, and, to get it, Astarion will need the help of a handsome Aasimar paladin named Hahn den Suriel.

There are just a few problems. Astarion is not supposed to trust his fellow spawn. He’s not supposed to go out into the city for his own ends rather than the vampire lord’s. And he’s certainly not supposed to strike a deal with a stranger whose golden eyes can snare even a blackened, undead heart.

But the city of Baldur’s Gate cares little for what’s supposed to happen.