Resultado narrado por "Diana Croft" em Todas as categorias

It’s all very well deciding to build the means to save British magick. Top marks for ambitious goals! ...But there are one or two obstacles in the way. For one, said means does not yet exist, and it’ll take a genius to sort that one out. Luckily, we’ve got one of those. We call him Orlando. For another, nothing at all can be built without materials, and no common-or-garden commodities will do. It’s got to be silver. The impossibly rare, virtually extinct kind. This one’s on me, Val and Jay.

I haven't heard from my mother in six years—which is why I was surprised to receive a summons from her. The peremptory kind. With nothing but a set of map coordinates to guide me, what exactly was I to expect? The short answer? Trouble, for Mother Dearest is in rather a lot of it. And like daughter, like mother, for there’s a shiny artefact in the offing, and only a few gigantic lindworms in the way. Who isn’t up for a minor little challenge like that?

Cast away from the Society (sort of) and out on our own, we've got a big problem on our hands - and an exciting prospect, too. They call it time travel on TV. Is this the big, fat secret the Hidden Ministry's been keeping? What's the real truth behind that wandering tower? Answers must be found — in the face of severe opposition from the Ministry, from Ancestria Magicka, and from every Fae Court in existence. Simple. If only everything wouldn’t keep going wrong.

As an agent of the Society for Magickal Heritage, I, Cordelia Vesper, have an important job: rescue endangered creatures, artefacts, books and spells wherever they are to be found. It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to keep British magick alive. So we rescued a valuable book from a long-lost library, only it proved to be unusually... chatty. And it's got a foul mouth, too. What manner of weird magick is this? Somebody else thinks it's pretty interesting, too. Ancestria Magicka, they call themselves. Brand new. Big trouble.

Fresh from an involuntary crash course in the Stranger Arts, I've a new mystery on my plate: the inexplicable reappearance of a particularly fantastic magickal species. Which is great, don't get me wrong. Rescuing magickal beasts is what we do around here. But the Dappledok Pup hasn't been seen since the seventeen hundreds; so how did we find one, alive and kicking, over two hundred years later? And this beast has a talent for sniffing out treasure, no less. Happenstance? Maybe not.

Dispatched overseas — far, far overseas — we're in hot water. Again. Following in the footsteps of a long-lost king, we're on the road to the mysterious Vales of Wonder. The upside? It's a hot-bed of magickal marvels, the likes of which we've literally never seen before. The downside? Danger. Because who ever said adventure would be easy? Fortunately, we have help. One reviled but aggravatingly handy beast specialist: check. One world-famous, awe-inspiring, purple-clad troll scholar: check. One perambulatory, half-mad house with a crush on Jay: check.

Stranded far from home, and unable to return, I am in bigger trouble than ever. I know I say that a lot, but this time it's really true. Not that there aren’t advantages to my particular predicament. If one must put up with a dangerous degree of magickal potency, one is duty-bound to… put it to use, no? Certainly nothing insane, irresponsible and potentially life-threatening. As if. But we'll need every possible advantage in the Hyndorin Mountains. For there, hidden behind layers of secrets, could be the answers we are looking for.

Rumour’s got a lot to say for itself, and the message is clear: the regulator’s ready. You know. The magickal regulator. The bright and shiny thing with which we, Team Improbable, propose to restore magick to a fading Britain. Somebody’s got to test it, and that somebody is us. Which means wading into the depths of a long-dead realm that nobody’s entered in centuries. And I may have had some practice at that, but this time it’s different. This time, somebody’s still home. And they really aren’t happy about trespassers. Looks like disaster’s on the agenda. Again.

Things have been quiet at the Society lately. Too quiet. It couldn’t possibly last. When a griffin appeared in the Yorkshire skies, it could only mean bad news. There’s only one place in Britain it could have come from and that’s the lost kingdom of Farringale. It’s a dire warning, and there’s worse to come. Turns out we aren’t the only people with an interest in the age-old city of the trolls. Farringale lies under attack—and these people will stop at nothing to take control of its treasures. It’s time for a showdown—the deathly serious kind.

Imagine modern Britain without magick. No fae enclaves. No flying chairs. No magick wands. Giddy gods, no unicorns. Who wants to live in that world? Me neither. But with magick on the decline, that's the world we're ending up with. Meet the Society for Magickal Heritage. Our boss is a disembodied voice. Our headquarters is a sentient house. You could say we've a vested interest in keeping magick alive. Can a ragtag bunch of magicians, necromancers and fae prevail against inevitable ruin and decline? Hell yes. Try and stop us.

Reeling from the events that revealed other witches were behind the attack on Reuben and Caspian, the White Haven witches don’t know who to trust. The search for those who betrayed them tests their resources and their abilities, and as the fallout shatters alliances, they draw on their friends for support. But it’s not easy. The path they follow is dark and twisted and leads them in directions they can’t predict.

Midsummer is approaching and Avery, Alex, and the White Haven witches, are making plans to celebrate Litha, but everything stops when paranormal activities cause havoc. Smuggler's gold is found that dates back centuries, and a strange chain of events is set in motion; Newton needs magical help. The witches find they are pitted against a deadly enemy, and they need the Cornwall Coven. But not all are happy to help - a few members have never accepted White Haven, and their enmity puts everyone in danger.

A citadel crowned in ice. An ancient message that contains a warning. The clash of ancient powers. Nahum thinks he’s accompanying Olivia on a simple retrieval for The Orphic Guild, but finds something far more sinister. Relics connected to the Fallen.

This romantic short story by George Eliot (real name Mary Ann Evans) was first published in 1869. Told in iambic pentameter, it concerns a young Sicilian girl who harbours such intense love for the king that her longing bedevils her until she can express her feelings with the assistance of the minstrel Minuccio.

The Society for Magickal Heritage’s best agents are heading back into paradise. Giddy Gods help them all. No one ever said heroic adventure would be easy, but this is ridiculous. Magickal wonderlands aren’t meant to have a dark side. Heroes aren’t meant to get stranded there, either. Ves may be up for anything, but she hadn’t expected that pretty much anything would be up for her. And with a horde of unhappy spirits enjoying a direct line to Zareen’s psyche, it’s lucky she’s unbreakable... right?

As the pace of modern life accelerates, the old ways wither and die. But to the Society for Magickal Heritage, that just isn’t good enough.

Things are getting serious at the Society for Magickal Heritage. An ancient legend has plans for Ves, and Ves has plans for just about everything else. It’s time to take on the ultimate challenge—and hope for the best. What could possibly go wrong? Well, everything. As usual. But if old magick is going to survive in the modern world, it’s no use being cautious. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and Ves is giving it everything she’s got. But can she handle the cost? And can the cost handle her?

When Shadow and Gabe are employed to follow new clues to the fabled lost Templar treasure, they think they’re the only ones looking for it. Until they’re almost killed. Unfortunately, their opponents are devious and underhand, which means Shadow and Gabe need to be, too. However, the team is split, with half of the Nephilim searching for Black Cronos. The path is dark, twisted, and very dangerous.

Witches have been living at Moonfell, the sprawling Gothic mansion in London, for five hundred years. The house and gardens are steeped in magic, and at every Yule the family gathers to reinforce the protection spells on the house.

Fresh from maternity leave, Detective Elma finds herself confronted with a complex case, when a man is found murdered in a holiday cottage in the depths of the Icelandic countryside - the victim of a frenzied knife attack, with a shocking message scrawled on the wall above him.