Both! That guy in Bulgaria’s been really busy. I’ve already done a huge amount of work on what happens in Kylar’s world after the events of Beyond the Shadows. I pick up with the story seventeen years later with one of the sons of . . . well, you’ll just have to read it. It will be a trilogy and it won’t be necessary to have read this trilogy first, but readers of the Night Angel Trilogy are definitely going to spend some time with characters they love.

At the same time, though Midcyru is a huge canvas to paint on, I’ve been cooking up a new world that I’m really excited about. New magic, new cultures, it’s a cool setting, and I’ve got a premise that I think rocks. But the story—the full cast, who goes where and who does what—hasn’t coalesced yet.

As a first-time author, what have you found to be the most exciting part of the publishing process?

The day you get the phone call that your books have sold is too shocking to be exciting. It’s simply too big. You walk around with perma-grin, but you don’t really understand it yet.

I think the most exciting moment was when a French editor wrote that he had stayed up all night reading The Way of Shadows, and after twelve years in publishing, that didn’t happen that often. I’ve dreamed of keeping people up late reading my books since I started my first novel at age thirteen—but I always figured I’d have to wait at least until I got published, and I figured it would be some poor kid who’d have to sleep through math class the next day, not an editor. That was a great day.

A Preview of "Shadow’s Edge"

introducing

If you enjoyed THE WAY OF SHADOWS,

look out for

SHADOW’S EDGE

Book 2 of the Night Angel Trilogy

by Brent Weeks

W e’ve got a contract for you,” Momma K said. As always, she sat like a queen, her back straight, sumptuous dress perfect, graying hair immaculately coifed, but this morning she had dark circles under her eyes. Kylar guessed that none of the Sa’kagé’s surviving leaders had slept much since the Khalidoran invasion.

“Good morning to you, too,” Kylar said, settling into the wing-backed chair in her study. She didn’t turn to face him, looking instead out her window. Last night’s rain had quenched most of the fires in the city, but many still smoked, bathing the city in a crimson dawn. The waters of the Plith River that divided rich eastern Cenaria from the Warrens looked as red as blood. Kylar wasn’t sure that was all because of the sun, either. In the week since the coup, the Khalidoran invaders had massacred thousands.

Momma K said, “There’s a wrinkle. The deader knows it’s coming.”