Risultati letto da "Dian" in Tutte le categorie

The word is out about Sadie Hoffmiller's amateur detective work, but it's not exactly the kind of publicity Sadie wants. In the newest culinary mystery from bestselling author Josi Kilpack, Sadie accepts her first investigation-for-hire and travels to Portland, Oregon, at the request of a woman who has suspicions about her wealthy father s untimely death.

When Sadie Hoffmiller receives a threatening, anonymous text message just days before her wedding, she is determined not to let it interfere with the celebration she has carefully planned for months. But when the threat changes from a distant fear to a frightening reality, Sadie realizes just how much she is underestimated the situation.

Dr. Trenton Hendricks was last seen Friday, April 8, when he set out alone on a backpacking trip. Hendricks's Jeep Grand Cherokee was located Tuesday at the Chuckwalla Trailhead, but after six days and thousands of man-hours, the official search has been called off. He is presumed to be deceased.

What begins as a holiday trip for amateur sleuth and cooking aficionado Sadie Hoffmiller and her daughter, Breanna, turns into a bizarre mystery when they discover a dead body in the sitting room of an English manor. Breanna's boyfriend, Liam, is heir to both the family title and the family estate of Southgate, where everyone seems to have a secret . . . or two. When the body in the sitting room disappears, Sadie and Breanna are stranded at the estate until the police can clear them to leave. With their departure delayed, they might as well solve the murder.

The fight to save British magick rages on—and it’s taking the Society’s beleaguered champions away from Home. Far, far away, to worlds long lost; worlds no one could ever have imagined existed. Dangers and mysteries abound, which is way up Ves’s street. Jay isn’t quite so sure. Severed as they are from the Society’s support, will magick’s unlikely heroes make it Home unscathed? It’ll be fine. After all, these lost magickal domains are the Society’s ultimate dream. What could possibly be so bad about that?

White Haven Witches Books 10-12 in one magical volume!

A través de las constelaciones familiares, técnica terapéutica que ha revolucionado la forma en la que se explora el trauma, la Dra. Lydiana García, te comparte las claves para comenzar tu camino a la sanación. Con más de 14 años de experiencia con pacientes y heridas generacionales, te enseñará qué tipos de traumas existen, cómo reaccionar ante ellos y, sobre todo, te invita a explorar tu historia para llegar a lugares tan profundos como lo desees, y resignifica tu vida.

Sade Sadipo is ready to meet ‘the one’ and finally fulfil the Nigerian Dream. So far God hasn’t performed that little miracle quite yet, but it’ll happen this year for sure. Especially if her mother, two best friends, younger sister and all those in the unofficial Marriage Monitoring Aunties Association, have anything to say about it. She might love her job, have great friends and even own her own home, but according to the meddling aunties, this is why she’s still single at 50.

Por la autora de Los amantes de Praga, Alyson Richman Principios del siglo XX. El mundo está dominado por hombres y el ámbito artístico en Estocolmo no es una excepción. Hilma af Klint, cansada de no encontrar un espacio para desarrollarse, convoca cada viernes por la noche a un enigmático grupo de artistas —Anna, Cornelia, Sigrid y Mathilda— para crear su propia red de apoyo emocional y artístico.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.