Tomi Adeyemi: Hi, my name is Tomi Adeyemi and I am the author of Children of Blood and Bone.

Children of Blood and Bone is an epic West African fantasy. I like to pitch it as Black Panther with magic. It's about a girl fighting to bring magic back to her people and it takes place in this epic West African world with giant lions and beautiful magic and the Orïsha, which are these really cool African gods and goddesses that a lot of people haven't experienced before.

For me, I really wanted to write this book because when I saw a picture of the Orïsha for the first time, I thought it was one of the most beautiful and magical things I'd ever seen, and the world and the story started coming together in my head in a way no story had before, so I really wanted to put that on the page and it's been really fun to see other people get into that world as well.

I am just going to start by reading an excerpt, and I think it's just best to start at the beginning, so I'm going to do that right now.

"I try not to think of her. But when I do, I think of rice. When Mama was around, the hut always smelled of jollof rice. I think about the way her dark skin glowed like the summer sun, the way her smile made Baba come alive. The way her white hair fuzzed and coiled, an untamed crown that breathed and thrived. I hear the myths she would tell me at night, Tzain's laughter when they played agbön in the park. Baba's cries as the soldiers wrapped a chain around her neck. Her screams as they dragged her into the dark. The incantations that spewed from her mouth like lava. The magic of death that led her astray. I think about the way her corpse hung from that tree. I think about the king who took her away."

Chapter One: Pick me. It's all I can do not to scream. I dig my nails into the marula oak of my staff and squeeze to keep from fidgeting. Beads of sweat drip down my back, but I can't tell if it's from dawn's early heat or from my heart slamming against my chest. Moon after moon I've been passed over. Today can't be the same.

I tuck a lock of snow-white hair behind my ear and do my best to sit still. As always, Mama Agba makes the selection grueling, staring at each girl just long enough to make us squirm. Her brows knit in concentration, deepening the creases in her shaved head. With her dark brown skin and muted kaftan, Mama Agba looks like any other elder in the village. You would never guess a woman her age could be so lethal.

"Ahem." Yemi clears her throat at the front of ahéré, a not so-subtle reminder that she's already passed this test. She smirks at us as she twirls her hand-carved staff, eager to see which one of us she'll defeat in our graduation match. Most girls cower at the prospect of facing Yemi, but today I crave it. I've been practicing and I'm ready. I know I can win."