検索キーワード： ナレーター "Diana Croft" すべてのカテゴリー

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.

November, 1967, Iceland. Fourteen-year-old Marsi has a secret penpal – a boy who lives on the other side of the country – but she has been writing to him in her older sister's name. Now she is excited to meet him for the first time. But when the date arrives, Marsi is prevented from going, and during the night her sister Stína goes missing – her bloodstained anorak later found at the place where Marsibil and her penpal had agreed to meet. November, 1977. Stína's disappearance remains unsolved.

Samhain is approaching. The past draws closer. A reckoning is coming. Avery and her coven are looking forward to celebrating Samhain, and the townsfolk are preparing to honour their ancestors with the Walk of the Spirits. But then Ben disappears from Old Haven Church, leaving no clue as to where he has gone. Panic-stricken, the witches and their friends widen their search, but when they can’t find him, they have to accept that he’s somewhere else—somewhere their spells can’t reach. When part of the town vanishes, they realise that their lives and the town’s future are in danger.

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.

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.

When librarian Ginny Cole discovers a body in Little Shaw’s beloved haberdashery shop, she finds herself embroiled in a murder investigation. The victim? Arrogant shop owner and spring fete judge, Timothy Harlow, found with a pair of sewing scissors plunged into his back. While the police are quick to arrest Milos, a charming young upholsterer, Ginny thinks the case has been sewn up too neatly. Together with her friends – no-nonsense JM, craft-obsessed Hen, and irrepressible Tuppence – Ginny delves into the village’s secrets.

Sixty-year-old widow Ginny Cole thought she’d used up her life quota of bad luck. So she’s dismayed when her move to the quaint village of Little Shaw begins with finding the murdered body of rude and dislikeable library manager, Louisa Farnsworth. Has misfortune followed her cross-country? When suspicion falls on the daughter of her friend Hen, because of a perfectly innocent threatening letter, Ginny’s sure the police are letting the real killer walk free, and together with fellow widows JM, Tuppence, she’s determined to find the truth.

The Nephilim have a new enemy. Belial, the Fallen Angel who brings destruction and madness, has a foothold in the present, and he refuses to leave without a fight. However, the Nephilim are determined to root him and his agents out and destroy his influence for good. As his malevolent presence casts a sinister shadow, Gabe and the team embark on a perilous quest. Their journey uncovers more of his powerful jewels, hidden temples, and ancient lineages, and threatens to unleash supernatural chaos.

White Haven is full of visitors making the most of the summer holidays, but when two die in inexplicable circumstances, and unearthly screams resound across the moors, fear descends on the town. The excitement surrounding the upcoming Lughnasadh festival turns to dread as more deaths follow. The witches and Newton scramble to discover the cause, but unfortunately, they have more than just the recent deaths to deal with.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?