Life in the Palace

Destiny is not enough.


One of the problems with being anonymous is it seriously dampens my ability to give the necessary acknowledgements, but this is my best attempt:

To my real life BFF who lived through most of this with me once and then listened to me drone on about it while I wrote it, and then read it ten times as I edited it; there is no quantity of chocolate large enough to compensate for your help.

To my husband who put up with ‘because I was on Facebook pretending to be a hot, male bartender’ as an acceptable reason why there was no dinner. Love in the Palace knows no bounds, nor does mine for you.

The wondrous Courtney Rupertus edited both books, never once getting annoyed as I interrupted her editing the books to ask how it was going.

The spectacular covers are all the work of Damon from I quickly learned to stop making suggestions and let the master work.

The elegant formatting is the work of Benjamin Carrancho, who never suggested that using more than three fonts was annoying and had the good grace to laugh at my jokes.

Seth’s song is a thing of beauty thanks to the persistence of my friend AG and the incredible musical talent that is Erez Cohen from Except Saturday

In the interests of intellectual honesty, it must be known that:

I am not the originator of either the ‘old men are cooler’ theory or the observation that ‘smoking is exercise for the lungs’. Although, both were used with permission. To SM and B respectively, I owe you a beer or two. Nor was I the first to say ‘Montreal has four distinct seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter and the summer’. If I ever knew the name of the guy at a party who coined this gem, I have long since forgotten it. I have an unclaimed beer and bucketful of admiration if he would like to claim it.

I have never been to either Sri Lanka or Goa, India. I did spend a very pleasant week visiting vicariously through YouTube. My sincerest apologies to the people of both countries if I in anyway misrepresented your nations.

I have not lived in Montreal for nearly a decade. All of the details about Montreal are as accurate as my memory and Google maps would allow.

There was once an institution in Montreal that bore a passing resemblance to the Ghetto Chapel. Any similarity beyond the general concept is entirely unintentional, either to the venue, organization or any of the individuals involved.

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