Showing results by narrator "Diana Croft" in All Categories

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.

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? Who knows what could happen?

When Ellie’s boyfriend forbids her from going to France to attend her best friend’s wedding, she decides she’s had enough. She dumps him and goes to France by herself. But traveling alone is scary, and Ellie realizes how reliant she’d become on the men in her life. On holiday, she learns to trust her own judgement and grows in confidence. Just when she decides she doesn’t need a man to complete her, she meets Ash, who is everything her ex wasn’t. But is Ellie willing to give up her newfound independence and link herself to another man?

Becky Morgan's family were the victims of the 'crimes of the decade'. The lone survivor of a ritualistic killing, Becky's been forever haunted by the memories of that night. Twenty years later, with the killer never found, Becky is ready to hunt them down and exact revenge. But the path to find the murderer is a slippery slope and she finds herself opening up some old wounds that should have been left sealed.

Malessar's Curse is broken, the wards around Caenthell destroyed. The Warlock himself lies, exhausted and gravely wounded, in the rubble of his own house. And while the dire spirits trapped behind the wards for centuries are unleashed into the world once more, Cassia is confined to a cell deep in Galliarca's grand palace. Yet Caenthell calls to her, and Cassia must answer. As Heir to the North, the throne and the power behind it belong to her. But the twisted hunger of Caenthell's spirits appalls her. and Cassia vows to do everything she can to defeat them.

"Caenthell will stay buried, and the North will not rise again until I freely offer my sword to a true descendant of the High Kings, or until one takes it from my dying hands!" With this curse, the Warlock Malessar destroyed Caenthell. The bloodline of the High Kings disappeared and the kingdom faded into dark legend until even stories of the deed lost their power. But now there is an heir to the North.

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?

Somebody thought it would be a great idea to send us to the Troll Court. Because somebody imagined I might be the perfect person to help with a certain wild and crazy plan of Their Majesties' concoction. They want to restore the lost city of Farringale. I can only say that I heartily approve. There is the tiny problem of how, of course; but who better to dig up the truth than the Society’s most colourful agents? Off questing we go, armed with a long list of questions, two winning smiles (well, three, if you count the Baron’s — and who wouldn’t?) and a certain Dappledok pup.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Four years ago, somebody pinched perhaps the most valuable book in existence. Merlin’s personal grimoire. And the price they’re offering for its return is the kind we can’t refuse, so it’s Ves and Jay on the case. Except that there aren’t any clues. Seriously, not even a little one. Nothing’s going to solve this case but a Vesper-patented Crazy Plan, and it had better be a good one, for complications are sprouting like daisies. At least it’s a straightforward mission. There’s no earthly way this one’s going to turn my entire life upside down... right?

Have you been to Castle Chansany? Perhaps you’ve heard of it, or somewhere like it. It’s that airy castle in the clouds, straight out of a dream. A place where wizards spin marvels from their finger-tips, and the Queen holds banquets deep into the night. A place of mystery and curiosity, finery and fancy, where even the furniture might talk to you (if you’re polite enough to it). A place of magic and enchantment, where anything could happen... Come meet the flamboyant Wizard Garstang and his draconic apprentice, Jessamine.

When Jack’s business partner turns up dead at the hands of a high society member with ties to Melinda’s deceased husband, the two are thrust together to investigate a murder with more twists and turns than a London back alley at midnight. Can they find the murderer and possibly love?

The lost treasure of the Knights Templar is within reach. 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.

This collection of fantasy short stories are from the winners of Remastered Words 2017 audio anthology, including a tale from Mark Lawrence, "The Dream-Taker's Apprentice". Listen to the chilling story of an antique phone before relaxing with a light take on a well-known fairy tale. Then delve into the dark future of online shopping, finally wrapping things up in a mysterious Norse world that is both magical and captivating.

Hot on the success of her first case, British female sleuth Daisy Dunlop can count the offers of work on one finger. An empty bank account and the need to prove to her business partner, private investigator Solomon Liffey, that she is an asset, not a liability, calls for drastic measures. Terror has to be overcome as she answers a plea to find the one thing that gives her night sweats and flashbacks. An animal. A missing stud poodle, to be exact.

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.

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.