Batman's enemy The Riddler kidnaps a wealthy businessman and demands a huge ransom.

"Saylor rivals Robert Graves in his knack for making the classical world come alive." --(ortland) Oregonian "Engrossing...Ironic and satisfying." -- San Francisco Chronicle The third in Saylor's Roma Sub Rosa novels featuring Gordianus the Finder. Gordianus, disillusioned by the corruption of Rome circa 63 B.C., has fled the city with his family to live on a farm in the Etruscan countryside. But this bucolic life is disrupted by the machinations and murderous plots of two politicians: Roman consul Cicero, Gordianus's longtime patron, and populist senator Catilina, Cicero's political rival and a candidate to replace him in the annual elections for consul. Claiming that Catilina plans an uprising if he loses the race, Cicero asks Gordianus to keep a watchful eye on the radical. Although he distrusts both men, Gordianus is forced into the center of the power struggle when his six-year-old daughter Diana finds a headless corpse in their stable. Shrewdly depicting deadly political maneuverings, this addictive mystery also displays the author's firm grasp of history and human character. On first publication back in 1994, Catilina's Riddle was a finalist for the Hammet Award.

In a time when the world was ravaged by chaos, one kingdom remains; ordered, isolated, protected. Then Tabitha Serannon awakens an ancient power of the Lifesong and the world begins to change. The path she must follow leads into Darkness; into terror, treachery and desire.

"Maerad’s tale continues, luminous, desperate, and bold. . . . Brimming with archetypal motifs but freshly splendorous in its own right." – Kirkus Reviews (starred review) Maerad is a girl with a tragic past, but her powers grow stronger by the day. Now she and her mentor, Cadvan, hunted by both the Light and the Dark, must unravel the Riddle of the Treesong before their kingdom erupts in chaos. The quest leads Maerad over terrifying seas and glacial wilderness, until she is trapped in the icy realm of the seductive Winterking. There, Maerad must confront what she has suspected all along: that she is the greatest riddle of all.

THE WONDER in the LAND: In this volume Comyns Beaumont brings together historical and biblical evidence to demonstrate that the history we have come to accept is far from accurate. He develops the theme of the advanced civilisation present in pre-Roman Britain - the post-diluvian remnant of the Hyperborean landmass Plato called Atlantis. His acceptance of ancient astronomical and meteorological knowledge puts an end to the whole concept of an 'Ice Age', as aeons melt into centuries. The past is closer than we think!

Mr. Maverick Narkom, Superintendent of Scotland Yard, sat before the litter of papers upon his desk. His brow was puckered, his fat face red with anxiety, and there was about him the air of one who has reached the end of his tether. He faced the man opposite, and fairly ground his teeth upon his lower lip. "Dash it, Cleek!" he said for the thirty-third time, "I don't know what to make of it, I don't, indeed! The thing's at a deadlock. Hammond reports to me this morning that another bank in Hendon—a little one-horse affair—has been broken into. That makes the third this week, and as usual every piece of gold is gone. Not a bank note touched, not a bond even fingered. And the thief—or thieves—made as clean a get-away as you ever laid your eyes on! I tell you, man, it's enough to send an average person daft! The whole of Scotland Yard's been on the thing, and we haven't traced 'em yet! What do you make of it, old chap?" "As pretty a kettle of fish as I ever came across," responded Cleek, with an enigmatic smile. "And I can't help having a sneaking admiration for the person who's engineering the whole thing. How he must laugh at the state of the old Yard, with never a clue to settle down upon, never a thread to pick up and unravel! All of which is unbusinesslike of me, I've no doubt. But, cheer up, man, I've a piece of news which ought to help matters on a bit. Just came from the War Office, you know." Mr. Narkom mopped his forehead eagerly. The action was one which Cleek knew showed that every nerve was tense....