Kidnapped by slavers, Lizzie Petrule was dragged in chains across the Great Sea to the corrupt empire of Meridal. There, beneath a floating citadel and an ocean of golden sand, lies a pleasure den for gladiators--and a prison for the maidens forced to slake their carnal thirst. Despite impossible odds, against imponderable magic, three men have vowed Lizzie's return: Justin, her suitor; Leon, her father; and Ril, the shape-shifting but war-weary battler. Together, this broken band can save her, but only with a word that must remain unsaid, a foe that is a friend, and a betrayal that is, at heart, an act of love.

He is one of many: a creature of magic, unrelentingly male. He is lured through the portal by pure female beauty, a virgin sacrifice. She is killed, and he is silenced and enslaved. Such a dark ritual is necessary. Unlike their elemental cousins--those gentler sylphs of wind and fire--battlers find no joy in everyday labor. Their magic can destroy an army or demolish a castle, and each has but one goal: find his queen, then protect and pleasure her at any cost. What would a maiden do if she were given such a servant? What would befall that kingdom foolish enough to allow a battler to escape? Young Solie and the people of Eferem are about to find out.

The Duchess of Devonshire's second book, first published in 1778, chronicles the life of a young, newly married lady of high society not unlike its author. Written in epistolary format, the story follows Julia from her idyllic country life to her marriage to a rich aristocrat. She soon discovers her husband is nothing other than a rake, spending all his and her money on gambling and mistresses. An anonymous guardian, in the guise of The Sylph, writes to her, giving her guidance through her troubles...but will it be enough?

This ranging epistolary novel follows Julia Grenville, a Welsh beauty who knows little of the world until her marriage to the older Lord Stanley. Through Julia’s letters to her sister, readers learn more of Julia’s new life in London—her unfaithful husband, her miscarriage, her disillusionment with the city and its fashions. Other letters reveal that Julia has a longtime admirer, Harry Woodley, from her former life, as well as a mysterious guardian angel: her Sylph. This character guides Julia away from the depravities of her life in London, including her gambling problem. The Sylph is also another sympathetic ear to Julia’s increasing marital dissatisfaction and growing affinity for another man, the Baron Ton-hausen. As Julia nearly falls prey to the overzealous admirations of one of her husband’s associates, her husband is consumed by gambling debts to that same associate. She is shocked to discover the depths of her husband’s ruin and plans to flee to Wales before she too can be claimed in payment. Her disgraced husband takes the ultimate way out and Julia goes home to her father and sister in Wales. Her Sylph is not far behind, however, and soon reveals himself to Julia to be more than she could have ever imagined.

Flashing through crystalline skies on prism wings of gossamer or madly cantering through autumn’s fallen leaves astride their nutmeg-colored mounts of sable voles and ash-colored mice: images of sprite-like fairies with insanely delicate features, bedecked in gauzes of layered green, shimmering with morning’s dew. Fairies bequeath themselves as the virtually immortal emissaries of enchanted glens and timeless worlds that twinkle amidst the shattered nonsense of our dreams. Well may that all be true. Quite possible, then every bit as real, may be phantasmal, spectral creatures that glide through the folding fogs of night: an entire world of entities who, long fallen from the morning stars, have twisted their whole existence to thwart the intent of God and pathetic exploits of man. Horrific and terrifying, blackened apparitions lurk at the very edge of short-sighted humanity’s periphery with features that curdle both our hearts and our imaginations—soulless, illusory beings that nightly prance and plot amidst a nightmarish existence that lies just outside mankind’s perception. Enduring the squalid darkness eternally, they wait patiently, every iota as legitimate as the fleeting, pale, and all too fragile physical reality humanity chooses to acknowledge and inhabit. One would do well to keep in mind that not all fairy tales are purely make-believe.