The God and the Gumiho

Informationen zum Autor Sophie Kim Klappentext "In this contemporary fantasy, the most notorious nine-tailed fox in Korea pairs up with a trickster god-turned-detective to track down a wrathful demon before it can destroy the mortal world"-- Leseprobe Chapter One New Sinsi, South Korea, 1992 On the mortal realm of Iseung, a lone cherry blossom is carried on a soft breath of wind. Its petals ripple as it rides the gust, twirling and tumbling and twisting through the narrow street of New Sinsi. It brings with it a sweet, saccharine aroma of nectar and ambrosia, so at odds with the smell of the citythe sour tang of gasoline, the greasy sizzle of frying meats, and the perpetual undercurrent of cigarette smoke that never quite seems to fade. The city is small, but it's not quaint. As the cherry blossom flutters through the city, weaving through iron lampposts and sagging newsstands, it narrowly dodges haggard-looking pedestrians who carry battered briefcases and lukewarm cups of coffee in their ink-stained hands. Their worn shoes trudge toward the towers of smudged glass and reinforced concrete, their minds already preparing for a day of rustling through mounds of paperwork. The cherry blossom floats through a honking intersection, past the woman selling roasted sweet potatoes, past the uniformed schoolchildren hopping over cracks fissuring through the dull sidewalks. It is so very far from its home in the city's park. The blossom sighs softly, weary and homesick. It is losing momentum now, teetering precariously on the supporting wind, dipping down to the pavement below. The cherry blossom has emerged in New Sinsi's shopping district, hovering just outside of a boxy black building harboring a sign reading weapons, war armor, and other wants in the blocky script of Hangul. In smaller lettering at the bottom are the words no mortals allowed. The owner shouldn't have worried. The shop is, after all, invisible to the common men of Iseung. With a final weary flutter, the cherry blossom begins to tumble to the sidewalk just outside the shop. Its adventure has ended; now, it is time to rest. Its delicate pink petals wither and curl inward as it floats down, down, down . . . . . . and lands not on the sidewalk as it had so aimed, but on the shoulder of a black-haired man with cruel green eyes who stands before the shop with his mouth set into a hard, thin line. Impatiently, the man flicks the flower away from his sharp black suit with a slender finger. He has had enough of those infernal flowers. To his displeasure, they bloomed early this year. It is not even April yet. It is the second of March. It is clearly the work of Jacheongbi. The man mutters a curse under his breath. The goddess of agriculture has allowed the flowers to bloom early simply to spite him. She knows how much he despises the damn things. They make him sneeze uncontrollably, like some sniveling mortal. Does she not fear me? the man asks under his breath, adjusting his grip on the glossy black cane he holds in one hand. He tilts his green gaze up to the heavens and sneers. Insufferable, he hisses. There is no response. The man returns his gaze to the shop before him. ?'No mortals allowed,'? he reads then laughs under his breath. He clucks his tongue once, twice. This statement is not a bother to himfor he is not mortal, after all. The door is locked. The man looks at it in distaste, and with a sharp flick of the wrist, breaks the knob to allow himself entry. There's a sharp clatter on the other side. Jae-jin, the not-mortal calls sharply as he strides into the shop, the bell above the door chiming in a high, sweet voice to announce his presence. The shop's dark walls groan under the weight of polished weapons: sharp jikdos, small yedos, curved woldos, and an assortment of other Korean armaments that the common men have...

Auteur

Sophie Kim

Texte du rabat

"In this contemporary fantasy, the most notorious nine-tailed fox in Korea pairs up with a trickster god-turned-detective to track down a wrathful demon before it can destroy the mortal world"--

Résumé
In this sly and dazzling contemporary fantasy, the most notorious nine-tailed fox in Korea pairs up with a trickster god–turned–detective to track down a wrathful demon . . . before it can destroy the mortal world.

“Enchanting fantasy . . . With an intoxicating mix of action, mystery, and deliciously angsty romance, this reads like the most bingeable K-drama.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review)

Kim Hani has retired from a life of devouring souls. She is, simply put, too full. Once known as the infamous Scarlet Fox, she now spends her days working in a coffee shop and annoying a particularly irritating, if unfairly handsome, trickster god as often as she can.

That god is Seokga the Fallen. Exiled from the heavenly kingdom of Okhwang, he now begrudgingly resides in the mortal realm, working toward his redemption and suffering through his interactions with the particularly infuriating, if sneakily charming, gumiho barista at his favorite café. 

But when a powerful demon escapes from the underworld and threatens to end all of humanity, Okhwang’s emperor offers Seokga an enticing bargain: Kill this rogue creature, as well as the legendary and elusive Scarlet Fox, and he will be reinstated as a god. Hani, however, has no intention of being caught. Seokga might be a trickster god, but she has a trick of her own that he’ll never see coming: teaming up. As Seokga’s assistant, Hani will undermine and sabotage his investigation right under his overly pointy nose. Sure, she’ll help him kill the demon, but she certainly won’t allow him to uncover her secret identity while they’re at it.

As the bickering partners track their case down a path of mayhem and violence, the god and the gumiho find themselves inescapably drawn to each other. But will the unlikely couple stand together to prevent the apocalypse, or will they let their secrets tear them—and the world—apart?

Échantillon de lecture
Chapter One

New Sinsi, South Korea, 1992

On the mortal realm of Iseung, a lone cherry blossom is carried on a soft breath of wind. Its petals ripple as it rides the gust, twirling and tumbling and twisting through the narrow street of New Sinsi. It brings with it a sweet, saccharine aroma of nectar and ambrosia, so at odds with the smell of the city—the sour tang of gasoline, the greasy sizzle of frying meats, and the perpetual undercurrent of cigarette smoke that never quite seems to fade.

The city is small, but it’s not quaint. As the cherry blossom flutters through the city, weaving through iron lampposts and sagging newsstands, it narrowly dodges haggard-looking pedestrians who carry battered briefcases and lukewarm cups of coffee in their ink-stained hands. Their worn shoes trudge toward the towers of smudged glass and reinforced concrete, their minds already preparing for a day of rustling through mounds of paperwork.

The cherry blossom floats through a honking intersection, past the woman selling roasted sweet potatoes, past the uniformed schoolchildren hopping over cracks fissuring through the dull sidewalks. It is so very far from its home in the city’s park. The blossom sighs softly, weary and homesick.

It is losing momentum now, teetering precariously on the supporting wind, dipping down to the pavement below. The cherry blossom has emerged in New Sinsi’s shopping district, hovering just outside of a boxy black building harboring a sign reading weapons, war armor, and other wants in the blocky script of Hangul. In smaller lettering at the bottom are the words no mortals allowed.

The owner shouldn’t have worried. The shop is, after all, invisible to the common men of Iseung.

With a final weary flut…