Sanctimonious, hypocritical, manipulative—Shelby Blackwood is a priest of the worst sort. To keep his secluded little village peaceful, he’s learned to carefully balance preaching of faith and fear. Ives Thatcher, the reclusive woodsman at the edge of the forest, has neither; the villagers are not pleased. But converting Thatcher proves to be easier said than done when Shelby discovers there is something far more unnatural about him than his pagan ways, and Shelby can’t help himself from being tempted by the large man’s power and allure. Worse still, there’s a newcomer in town, and her curiosity and defiant personality may not just jeopardize Shelby’s secret, but the sanctity of the very system he’s worked to maintain.

The year is 1348. Thomas, a disgraced knight, has found a young girl alone in a dead Norman village. An orphan of the Black Death, and an almost unnerving picture of innocence, she tells Thomas that plague is only part of a larger cataclysm—that the fallen angels under Lucifer are rising in a second war on heaven, and that the world of men has fallen behind the lines of conflict. Is it delirium or is it faith? She believes she has seen the angels of God. She believes the righteous dead speak to her in dreams. And now she has convinced the faithless Thomas to shepherd her across a depraved landscape to Avignon. There, she tells Thomas, she will fulfill her mission to confront the evil that has devastated the earth, and to restore to this betrayed, murderous knight the nobility and hope of salvation he long abandoned. As hell unleashes its wrath, and as the true nature of the girl is revealed, Thomas will find himself on a macabre battleground of angels and demons, saints, and the risen dead, and in the midst of a desperate struggle for nothing less than the soul of man.

Sanctimonious, hypocritical, manipulative—Shelby Blackwood is a priest of the worst sort. To keep his secluded little village peaceful, he’s learned to carefully balance preaching of faith and fear. Ives Thatcher, the reclusive woodsman at the edge of the forest, has neither; the villagers are not pleased. But converting Thatcher proves to be easier said than done when Shelby discovers there is something far more unnatural about him than his pagan ways, and Shelby can’t help himself from being tempted by the large man’s power and allure. Worse still, there’s a newcomer in town, and her curiosity and defiant personality may not just jeopardize Shelby’s secret, but the sanctity of the very system he’s worked to maintain.

These never-before-collected adventures recount an age when the Targaryen line still holds the Iron Throne, and the memory of the last dragon has not yet passed from living consciousness. Before Tyrion Lannister and Podrick Payne, there was Dunk and Egg. A young, naïve but ultimately courageous hedge knight, Ser Duncan the Tall towers above his rivals—in stature if not experience. Tagging along is his diminutive squire, a boy called Egg—whose true name is hidden from all he and Dunk encounter. Though more improbable heroes may not be found in all of Westeros, great destinies lay ahead for these two . . . as do powerful foes, royal intrigue, and outrageous exploits.

The mere has fingers.Clever fingers to reach through the marsh and wrap around little ankles.Strong arms to pull poor sinners downwards.And a great gaping belly that can never be filled . . .Mere by Danielle Giles is a strikingly beautiful historical novel about fear and survival, power and position, and a love that takes hold in the darkest of places.Norfolk, 990 AD. Deep in the Fens, isolated by a vast and treacherous mere, an order of holy sisters make their home. Under the steely guidance of Abbess Sigeburg they follow God’s path, looking to their infirmarian, Hilda, to provide what comfort and cures she can.But when the mere takes a young servant boy, Sigeburg’s grip falters and Hilda quickly realises this place holds secrets darker and more unholy than she can fathom.Then proud Sister Wulfrun, a recent arrival to the convent, has a a curse is upon them and change must be brought. Is she saint or serpent? To Hilda, Wulfrun is a signal bolder and brighter than any fire set – one she cannot help but follow . . .