Gabriel and the Swallows (The Volatile Duology #1) (30 page)

Things are not going well for Orlando Khan.  After being discovered in an illicit tryst, he’s been banished to Istanbul, his clan’s hometown.   Watched over by his rigid Uncle Ahmed who seems determined to set his nephew back on the righteous path, Orlando’s life is soon whittled down to prayers at the mosque and meals in his room, with no one but his sister Imelda – both blessed and cursed with ethereal beauty – for companionship.

When Imelda disappears without a trace, it’s up to Orlando to recover her and save the family honour.  Already walking a tightrope between reality and the spirit world, Orlando calls upon the ifrit, legendary spirits of fire that he previously encountered as a boy in Italy.  But this time, the ifrit demand payment for their services, and Orlando may not be able to afford the price: to abandon all he knows to descend into the world of the spirits.

From the sweat-stained, pulsing clubs of underground Istanbul to the eerie catacombs of Paris, Orlando must risk all he has in this vibrant, cross-cultural reimagining of Aladdin. As Orlando discovers the terrible truths buried in the Khan clan’s past, he is forced to choose between his honour, his family, and the love of his life.

Gabriel and the Swallows
 has been, like Volatile herself, a creature of many faces. After going through numerous title changes, plot redirections, characters being killed off and then resurrected with a sex change, and even the setting transported firmly from a small town in France to an even smaller town in Italy, it was not without a trove of wonderful people that 
Gabriel
 exists, in this form, today.

I would firstly like to thank my team of editors and beta-readers: you know who you are. To Katie and Conor, whose advice made me cringe at best and wish for death at worst. Thanks for making me creep up on my darlings in the middle of the night and murder them with a pick axe. You’ve made 
Gabriel 
so much cleaner and tighter.  For Giselle, emergency copyeditor – thank you for picking up on those issues these eyes could no longer see, so used to these sentences I could recite them in my sleep.

For the team at Of Tomes Publishing – ah, where to begin? For Ben, obviously, such an enthusiastic supporter of my debut
Drown, 
and an even more ravenous supporter of 
Gabriel
: you are the publisher every author dreams of pairing up with. Your love for the written word, your cutting-edge industry knowledge and involvement in the project down to every layer of the cover design:  it’s been an honor and a dream come true. Never had I thought a relationship between a publisher and author could be boiled down to flagrant excess of emoticons and exclamation points, side-splitting FaceTime conversations and inside jokes.

For Xina, my first reader in the Of Tomes house, thanks your contagious support. Kim and Nadege, designers extraordinaire for the insides and outsides of 
Gabriel
, thank you for giving a face to a pile of words, and for making the intangible tangible - because of you an idea I once had, the hours I spent at a computer, can now sit comfortably in the hands of people around the world.

To the fellow authors I’ve especially connected with in the brief period since my first novel’s publication – especially Tegan Wren, for the encouragement and support, Carol Riggs, who lets me rant and complain about things, Anita Howard, for the sage advice, Jen Wilson, for being generally amazing in all the categories of amazingness.  Michelle Madow and Danielle Page – author crushes and girl crushes all rolled into one.  You inspire me and give me worthy examples to look up to.

To Mark, who gave up the honeymoon idea of a golfing trip around South East Asia, exchanging swimming trunks for thermals, in order to return to Orvieto in the greyest, bitterest winter to complete the second stage of my research. Thank you for counting the steps from Fontana De Leone to Orvieto’s summit, for finishing all the dishes I wanted to write about but didn’t fancy eating, for trudging through the underground tunnels, holding my purse patiently at the bottom of St Patrizio’s well as I took notes. Thank you for cringing through three hours of the worst tango production on earth just so I could get a feel of the Teatro Mancinelli. You’re the most supportive best friend in the world. You’re the storybook hero everybody wishes for. And you gave me Florence Finch.

Heartfelt thanks to the handful of good friends in my little Berlin community for being so supportive of me as a writer. It’s difficult to be far away from home, living this life flittering from country to country, forging friendships at lightning-speed and then uprooting yourself away from it all. Thanks for keeping me sane. Thanks for letting me rant and rave to you about my many, many issues. For Angus, my partner in creativity for over a decade, thank you for forgiving me for that disastrous fish and chips incident at Bronte Beach. Thank you for not outgrowing me, for always making time for me in your glamorous world. And for Jess (whom I imagine to be the epitome of the adult Darlo Gallo), your encouragement has never wavered and you celebrate my successes with utter abandonment, like they were your own. I am deeply grateful for your friendship.

To Jasmina, the wonderful translator-slash-hostess, for showing me around Orvieto, for housing me in your wonderful medieval chambers, for sending interviewees my way and sitting through conversations you’ve undoubtedly heard over and over, translating for me. I wish I could have used your truffle-hunting dog in this novel, but Sweet Vittoria won that competition. Maybe in the sequel.

For the esteemed Signore Montanucci, of the 100 year old institution Caffe Montanucci itself (yes, it is a real establishment and it’s more delightful than I could ever describe) thank you for the hours you spent enthusiastically regaling me with the local history of Orvieto. I have been so strongly inspired by the gossip about its people, the history of even its smallest spaces and the story of your ancestors. You truly gave me inside access to Orvieto’s culture and mindset. Gabriel’s personality was crafted specifically from the story you shared from your boyhood – when you would creep around the alleys of Orvieto, scared out of your wits in the dark, to deliver the daily bread.

And finally, to the citizens of Orvieto: bottomless gratitude for accommodating me, permitting me to nose around in your beloved nooks and crannies and to commit your fantastical city to a work of pure fiction. Thank you for giving Gabriel and Orlando a home in the most magical place on earth.