The Herron, not to be confused with the bird, was raised in the underdark caverns below Appalachia. After suffering a grim tutelage of grits and paint, she slinked away in the middle of the day to the urban nightmare that is Richmond, where she made due by preparing newsprint-pie to stave off rabid hounds and being worked like a slave by her muse. Until recently, she hid in fear that the crowbarred one, destroyer of the pie-obsessed and stealer of the plastic-crack, would figure out how to leave the underdark and track her to her new abode, but then she decided to just get it over with and moved back.

By author & Tor.com blogger Richard Fife.