A Gilded Age socialite-turned-sleuth must clear her fiancé of murder in the New York Times–bestselling author’s historical mystery romance series. Called to the home of her fiancé’s former mistress late one night, Francesca Cahill finds her curiosity piqued. But upon arrival, she is shocked to find Daisy Jones’s bloodied body . . . and even more devastated when the evidence points to one suspect: her fiancé, Calder Hart. Francesca refuses to believe that Calder is capable of such an act. Still, she is unable to shake her instinctive sense that Calder is lying about something. The police are far less inclined to believe his innocence, and Calder is arrested for Daisy’s murder. But Francesca’s heart is not easily swayed—until a life-altering secret is exposed that could destroy their future together.

If you can possibly thirst for more mysterious metaphysical accounts of love, Trisha Telep has organized some of the greatest and most thrilling tales of paranormal paramours since The Eternal Kiss. She presents the acclaimed literary talent of thirteen unique authors, creating a collection of stories that will undoubtedly capture the imagination of every soul who dares to read them. Werewolves, ghosts, zombies, vampires, and fallen angels drive the plot of these riveting romances. Kiss Me Deadly includes the exceptional writings of several authors, including: Sarah Rees Brennan (faeries) Becca Fitzpatrick (angels) Caitlin Kittredge (witches) Karen Mahoney (vampires: sequel to story from The Eternal Kiss) Daniel Marks (ghost kids) Justine Musk (sorcerers) Diana Peterfreund (unicorns) Michelle Rowen (demons) Carrie Ryan (zombies) Maggie Stiefvater (werewolves) Rachel Vincent (banshees) Daniel Waters (zombies) Michelle Zink (gothic ghosts)

When a British spy is saved by a beautiful enemy, an explosive passion ignites in this “edge-of-your-seat sexy romance” set against the French Revolution (Addicted to Romance). Dominic Paget, the earl of Bedford, will do anything to resume spying upon Britain’s enemies. Badly wounded, he is put in the care of a beautiful gentlewoman, Julianne Greystone—only to discover that her sympathies lie with his enemies. Unable to resist the woman who saved his life, Dominic seduces her . . . hoping she never learns of his betrayal. Julianne is captivated by the wounded stranger she believes is a revolutionary hero. Until she discovers the truth—her “hero” is the privileged earl of Bedford. Devastated and determined to forget him, Julianne travels to London. But when she finds herself in danger, it is Bedford who comes to the rescue. Now Julianne must navigate the intrigues of a perilous city and the wild yearnings of her own heart . . .

To save her family and fortune, a desperate widow must turn to a dangerous spy in the New York Times–bestselling author’s Regency romantic adventure. Once a penniless orphan, Evelyn D’Orsay became a countess and a bride at the tender age of sixteen. But the flames of revolution forced her to flee France, with the aid of a notorious smuggler. Recently widowed and without any means, Evelyn knows she must retrieve the family fortune from France for her daughter’s sake . . . but only one man can help her: the smuggler she cannot forget. Jack Greystone has been smuggling since he was a small boy—and he has been spying since the wars began. An outlaw with a bounty on his head, he is in hiding when he becomes aware of the Countess’s inquiries about him. He is reluctant to come to her aid yet again, for he has never been able to forget her. But he soon realizes he’ll surrender anything to be with the woman he loves . . .

Two separate worlds . . . One passion that binds them Wild and passionate by nature, Lyra Black is not just any werewolf. She's the future leader of the powerful pack of the Thorn-if she can stay alive long enough to inherit the title. One of the Cait Sith bloodline of vampire cat-shifters, Jaden Harrison has no interest in the wars plaguing the world of night. But when he rescues Lyra from a violent attack, they're both captured by an insatiable desire that threatens to overwhelm them and bind them together for eternity . . . just as ancient enemies prepare to strike. And when they do, the Thorn and the Cait Sith-and Lyra and Jaden's love-may never recover from the deadly blow . . .

Irrepressible heiress and intrepid sleuth Francesca Cahill moves from her own glittering world of Fifth Avenue to the teeming underbelly of society, a place of pride, passions…and sometimes deadly perversion. Despite the misgivings of her fiancé, Calder Hart, Francesca cannot turn away from a threat that is terrorizing the tenement neighborhood of Lower Manhattan. A madman has attacked three women, but while the first two victims survived, the third is found dead. All the victims are impoverished but beautiful Irishwomen—andFrancesca fears that her dear friends Maggie Kennedy and Gwen O'Neil could be next. Soon she is working with her former love, police commissioner Rick Bragg—Calder's half brother and worst rival. But even as Calder's jealous passions leave his relationship with Francesca teetering on the brink, Francesca is frantically on the killer's trail, certain the Slasher will strike again, afraid she will be too late.…

When the learned first gave serious attention to popular ballads, from the time of Percy to that of Scott, they laboured under certain disabilities. The Comparative Method was scarcely understood, and was little practised. Editors were content to study the ballads of their own countryside, or, at most, of Great Britain. Teutonic and Northern parallels to our ballads were then adduced, as by Scott and Jamieson. It was later that the ballads of Europe, from the Faroes to Modern Greece, were compared with our own, with EuropeanMärchen, or children’s tales, and with the popular songs, dances, and traditions of classical and savage peoples. The results of this more recent comparison may be briefly stated. Poetry begins, as Aristotle says, in improvisation. Every man is his own poet, and, in moments of stronge motion, expresses himself in song. A typical example is the Song of Lamech in Genesis—“I have slain a man to my wounding, And a young man to my hurt.” Instances perpetually occur in the Sagas: Grettir, Egil, Skarphedin, are always singing. In Kidnapped, Mr. Stevenson introduces “The Song of the Sword of Alan,” a fine example of Celtic practice: words and air are beaten out together, in the heat of victory. In the same way, the women sang improvised dirges, like Helen; lullabies, like the lullaby of Danae in Simonides, and flower songs, as in modern Italy. Every function of life, war, agriculture, the chase, had its appropriate magical and mimetic dance and song, as in Finland, among Red Indians, and among Australian blacks. “The deeds of men” were chanted by heroes, as by Achilles; stories were told in alternate verse and prose; girls, like Homer’s Nausicaa, accompanied dance and ball play, priests and medicine-men accompanied rites and magical ceremonies by songs. These practices are world-wide, and world-old. The thoroughly popular songs, thus evolved, became the rude material of a professional class of minstrels, when these arose, as in the heroic age of Greece. A minstrel might be attached to a Court, or a noble; or he might go wandering with song and harp among the people. In either case, this class of men developed more regular and ample measures. They evolved the hexameter; the laisse of the Chansons de Geste; the strange technicalities of Scandinavian poetry; the metres of Vedic hymns; the choral odes of Greece. The narrative popular chant became in their hands the Epic, or the mediaeval rhymed romance. The metre of improvised verse changed into the artistic lyric. These lyric forms were fixed, in many cases, by the art of writing. But poetry did not remain solely in professional and literary hands. The mediaeval minstrels and jongleurs (who may best be studied in Léon Gautier’s Introduction to his Epopées Françaises) sang in Court and Camp. The poorer, less regular brethren of the art, harped and played conjuring tricks, in farm and grange, or at street corners. The foreign newer metres took the place of the old alliterative English verse. But unprofessional men and women did not cease to make and sing.