An Elizabethan espionage thriller in which playwright Christopher Marlowe spies on Mary, Queen of Scots while navigating the perils of politics, theater, romance—and murder. England, 1585. In Kit Marlowe's last year at Cambridge, he is approached by Queen Elizabeth's spymaster offering an unorthodox career opportunity: going undercover to intercept a Catholic plot to put Mary, Queen of Scots on Elizabeth's throne. Spying on Queen Mary turns out to be more than Kit bargained for, but his salary allows him to mount his first play, and over the following years he becomes the toast of London's raucous theater scene. But when Kit finds himself reluctantly drawn back into the world of espionage and treason, he realizes everything he's worked so hard to attain—including the trust of the man he loves—could vanish in an instant.   Pairing modern language with period detail, Allison Epstein brings Elizabeth's lavish court, Marlowe's colorful theater troupe, and the squalor of sixteenth-century London to vivid, teeming life. At the center of the action is Kit himself—an irrepressible, irreverent force of nature. “Marlowe’s story as the playwright may have told it himself: full of adventure, fun … and murder.” — BookRiot “A clever concoction of genres, with a generous helping of historical fiction, espionage, class critique, and theatrical flair. . . Epstein vividly conjures up the world of Elizabethan theater . . . and adds on top a genuinely compelling spy story, creating an exuberant, irreverent romp.” — Crime Reads “Epstein presents Marlowe as supremely capable, something of a trickster, a consummate liar, a fiendish lover—and someone capable of murder . . . The suspense is palpable. . . . Epstein breathes life into a celebrated figure.” —The New York Times Book Review “This fizzy debut is a Tudor espionage tale, set among spies close to Mary, Queen of Scots. One of them is Christopher Marlowe, whose spy work bankrolls a rather promising theater career.” — The Chicago Tribune, 25 Books We Can’t Wait to Read in 2021 “Draws you into a morally convoluted world of spies, treason, politics, romance and murder. With a witty, captivating protagonist and fast-paced adventure, it’s the sort of book you should never pick up before bedtime lest you look out the window to see the sun rising. This is easily one of 2021’s best historical fiction books to date.” — The Michigan Daily “Thrilling and romantic. . . . Epstein successfully evokes both the beauty and the brutality of 16th-century England.” — Historical Novel Society “Epstein’s diverting debut gallivants through Elizabethan England. . . . A fun escapade.” — Publishers Weekly ALLISON EPSTEIN earned her MFA in fiction from Northwestern University and a BA in creative writing and Renaissance literature from the University of Michigan. A Michigan native, she now lives in Chicago, where she works as a copywriter for clients in higher education and the arts. When not writing, she enjoys good theater, bad puns, and fancy jackets.  A Tip for the Hangman is her first novel. One Without tobacco, Kit knew, he would never survive Cambridge. The university would have destroyed him otherwise: the relentless pace, the always-­rising stakes. One arcane lecture after another, endless pages of Greek readings that became no less bewildering with time. And beneath it all, the pervasive fear of falling behind, of falling to pieces, of publicly confirming what the fellows all privately believed: that whatever scholarship the master of the college had conferred upon him, Kit Marlowe didn’t belong here, should never have come. But once a wisp of smoke curled up in his lungs, none of that mattered. At least for the night. Tobacco unwound his nerves like a worn shirt, turned soft and loose, trailing easy threads to nowhere. It changed nothing, of course. Kit’s presence at Corpus Christi College remained as provisional as ever, the fellows’ condescension as irritating. But as the smoke drifted between his lips and up to the ceiling, a shimmer in the setting sun, that seemed peripheral, manageable even. He settled against the bedpost with a sigh. Through the haze, his room felt more like Elysium than the half-­furnished dormitory of a master’s student. Particularly given the company. Tom slouched on the other end of Kit’s bed, his back against the wall beside the window. Leaning sideways, he grasped for the dark glass bottle resting against Kit’s thigh. The movement brought him into the beam of sunlight and made his almost-­silver hair shine gold. His outstretched fingers missed his target by half an inch. “Come on,” Tom said, voice strained with the stretch. “Don’t make me beg.” When Kit passed the bottle over, the ends of Tom’s fingers brushed Kit’s palm, causing a momentary thrill that Kit tried hard not to think about. Tom took a healthy swallow, then grimaced and looked at Kit as if he’d been tricked into drinking piss. “God’s blood, this is terrible.” Kit laughe