SUMMARY: In need of a break from work and some recent near-death adventures, archaeologist Annja Creed visits France to indulge one of her greatest fantasies: finding D'Artagnan's lost sword. The rapier was a gift from the reigning monarch and has been missing since the seventeenth century.And Ascher Vallois, one of Annja's treasure-hunting friends, believes he has located the site of the relic.But when Annja meets with Vallois, she learns that he's made a huge sacrifice to protect the sword and its secret from a relic hunter. Annja discovers that the artifact holds the key to a fortune. And the man won't stop until he gets everything he wants—including Annja.<

SUMMARY: When archaeologist Annja Creed reluctantly agrees to help an old colleague on a dig in Antarctica, she wonders what he's gotten her into. It turns out that her former associate has found a necklace made of an unknown metal depicting three snakes. He claims it's over forty thousand years old—and that it may not have earthly origins.As the pair conduct their research, Annja soon realizes she has more to worry about than being caught in snowslides. Because everyone is hiding something—from her friend, to the U.S. military personnel guarding the site. With no one to trust and someone out to kill her, Annja has nowhere to turn. And everything to lose.<

SUMMARY: After shooting an episode of Chasing History's Monsters at a dig in Australia, Annja Creed is left feeling mildly unimpressed. The artifacts being uncovered are considered fringe by experts who doubt their authenticity. Annja is disappointed by the general lack of mystery involved. But her boredom is quickly replaced with fear when all that's left of her cameraman is a drop of blood on his hotel-room carpet.As she looks for her friend, Annja narrowly escapes an attack by gunmen. She realizes her cameraman must have captured the image of something so valuable that someone would kill them for just having dared look at it. When it becomes clear that everyone on the dig is at risk, Annja begins to think they're in danger not because of what they saw, but who….<

SUMMARY: Enlisted by the Japan Buddhist Federation to catalog a number of ancient shrines dotted across Nepal, archaeologist Annja Creed is honored to help. Political violence has prompted the Federation to protect holy sites from desecration and vandalism, and Annja is their last hope to properly conserve these sites.Where there's vandalism, there's plundering, and local police soon become suspicious of Annja's presence. But she is more concerned about the antiques smugglers and Maoist guerrillas trying to kill her. When she must trek high up in the Himalayas to protect a sacred golden Buddha statue from falling into the hands of her pursuers, she's told that the place is cursed—and guarded by demons. And Annja has no choice but to face her demons….<

When her longtime friend claims to have evidence of Big Foot's existence, archaeologist Annja Creed can't resist checking it out for herself—she's been debating the subject for years. Annja's curiosity leads her deep into the woods of the Pacific Northwest, to meet Jenny where the supposed trail has been left by the one and only Sasquatch. But when Annja arrives at the destination, a group of armed thugs warn her to leave the area, and her friend is nowhere to be found. Now the search for Sasquatch turns into a rescue mission, and Annja has only her instincts to guide her in a forest full of predators, scavengers and spirits. And someone, or something, does not want her there…. SUMMARY: When her longtime friend claims to have evidence of Big Foot's existence, archaeologist Annja Creed can't resist checking it out for herself—she's been debating the subject for years. Annja's curiosity leads her deep into the woods of the Pacific Northwest, to meet Jenny where the supposed trail has been left by the one and only Sasquatch.But when Annja arrives at the destination, a group of armed thugs warn her to leave the area, and her friend is nowhere to be found. Now the search for Sasquatch turns into a rescue mission, and Annja has only her instincts to guide her in a forest full of predators, scavengers and spirits. And someone, or something, does not want her there….<

Archaeologist Annja Creed reluctantly accepts an assignment on behalf of a covert arm of the U.S. Government. She is to lead an expedition to the top of Mount Ararat to find the truth about what is thought to be the remains of Noah's Ark. But while she doubts the massive anomaly is really the Ark, she can't help but wonder what is up there. Annja must escort a group of militant fundamentalists through civil unrest in eastern Turkey, but the impending war is nothing compared to the danger that lies hidden within the team. With lives at stake, Annja has no choice but to protect the innocent...and get them out of there alive. Legend says the Ark once saved mankind, but this time it could kill them all. SUMMARY: Archaeologist Annja Creed reluctantly accepts an assignment on behalf of a covert arm of the U.S. Government. She is to lead an expedition to the top of Mount Ararat to find the truth about what is thought to be the remains of Noah’s Ark. But while she doubts the massive anomaly is really the Ark, she can’t help but wonder what is up there. Annja must escort a group of militant fundamentalists through civil unrest in eastern Turkey, but the impending war is nothing compared to the danger that lies hidden within the team. With lives at stake, Annja has no choice but to protect the innocent…and get them out of there alive. Legend says the Ark once saved mankind, but this time it could kill them all.<

EDITORIAL REVIEW: Genghis Khan carved out a legacy of bloodshed and conquered kingdoms that has lasted almost eight hundred years. But while his name and deeds live on in the annals of history, his tomb has never been located… until now. Not everyone is convinced that the diary and the map, said to lead to the great warrior's final resting place, are authentic. Archaeologist Annja Creed is among these doubters. The reality is that the body was lost to history. But despite her skepticism, Annja suddenly finds herself pulled along an increasingly complex trail of clues, each more remote than the last. And as she and her companions race to their final destination, one thing is clear—the only tomb she may find is her *own*….<

EDITORIAL REVIEW: In a land of subzero temperatures and snow-covered vistas, survival is a challenge. But for the Araktak—an isolated and mysterious Inuit people—this harsh tundra is their heritage. Until now. A large mining company has purchased the land, and the sacred Araktak burial site with it. But more than diamond deposits await them under the dark, icy earth…. Contracted by the mining company, archaeologist Annja Creed is to oversee the proper relocation of the burial site. Her job is to ensure that each ancient relic and all human remains are carefully removed. But the sacred ground harbors a terrible secret. One that a powerful group of men intend to unleash on an unsuspecting world—unless Annja can find a way to stop them.<

SUMMARY: From the ashes of an ancient holy order comes an unholy relic...In the time of the Crusades, the Knights Templars were holy warriors who seemed to be blessed by God himself. But over the years, the order dissolved into mysteries both sacred and profane--creating an object whose power bends to the true nature of its owner....But until she held it in her hands, archaeologist Annja Creed hadn't heard of the Skull of Sidon nor the twisted tale of its origins. Even now, she's still not convinced. Yet someone wants it badly enough to hire a man who wields power beyond her imagining. Power enough to prevent Annja from protecting the mysterious skull. And power enough to kill.<

EDITORIAL REVIEW: Archaeologist Annja Creed and her sword have never been outmatched— until now. When a surprise party for her mentor Roux includes some uninvited guests, Annja finds herself fighting desperately for her life. The intruders escape but leave a sinister message behind. A legend has resurfaced about a sword that should be feared. A sword that seeks a master as bloodthirsty as itself. It is wielded by an assassin known as the Dragon who initiates a terrible game of cat and mouse. Eventually, the two swords—light and dark—must meet…and only one shall triumph.<

SUMMARY:
A small Nepali man melts into shadows. A cutthroat crime lord is looking for a miraculous cure. And a map to an impossible dream and a mythic paradise is pointing the way.Archaeologist Annja Creed is in Katmandu, awash in its scents, sounds and liveliness. But this is no sightseeing trip. An old friend is in possession of a map that leads to a place that lies outside our world. But the map is known to one other—a vicious man who has Annja and her companions right where he wants them. Her hand forced, Annja sets out in search of the fabled Shangri-La—an expedition of danger and subversion.And her journey will end only with triumph…or tragedy.

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SUMMARY:
In a remote part of Ireland, two archaeological teams dig for the find of a lifetime--the legendary Spear of Lugh. Folklore claims the magical weapon was forged in the time of the ancient "Tuatha de Danaan." But as the search intensifies, people begin disappearing from the dig. "Faeries," whisper the locals. The Other Crowd...Instructed to travel to Ireland and return with faerie footage, archaeologist Annja Creed figures it's a joke assignment. But people have vanished and she soon realizes there's more in play than mythical wee folk. With the unsettling notion that something otherworldly is in the air, Annja is torn between her roles as an archaeologist and a warrior. But can her powerful sword protect her from the threat of violence...or the Other Crowd?

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### Product Description

It started as a dream—a redheaded warrior king fought and died for his men centuries ago. The dream would lead archaeologist Annja Creed to the king's undisturbed corpse…and one of England's greatest mythical artifacts. Deep in an archaeological dig in England's Midlands, Annja locates a braided necklace around a mummified king's neck. Made of an unusual material—not quite obsidian, but gleaming with multihued color—the torc is an astonishing find. But someone knows exactly what the torc means. And he will do anything to get his hands on the Tear of the Gods. When the dig is compromised and innocent archaeologists are slain, even Annja herself is left for dead. Now she is fleeing for her life, not knowing the terrifying truth about the relic she risks everything to protect—or the devastating consequences should it fall into the wrong hands….

### Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Myrrdin sat high astride his horse and stared down the slope of the hill at the Roman army amassing in the valley below. What was left of his command was gathered at his back, but it was pitifully small compared to the enemy presence before him.

It was hard to believe that things had gone wrong so swiftly.

Less than a week before, he[HTML_REMOVED]d been war leader to Queen Boudica herself and had led an army of more than eighty thousand souls across Britannia, carving a path of destruction in their wake. They had destroyed the colony at Camulodunum and had marched against first Verulamium, and then Londinium itself, sacking each city and slaying as many of the invaders as they could find. Blood flowed like a river wherever they went, appeasing the anger of the gods at the presence of the Roman invaders and bestowing blessings upon the Iceni as a result.

Nothing, it seemed, could stand in their way.

Nothing, that was, until the coming of Gaius Suetonius Paulinus.

Even thinking of the Roman[HTML_REMOVED]s name was enough to make Myrrdin curse aloud and spit on the ground. He longed to carve the man[HTML_REMOVED]s flesh from his bones and feed it the crows. He prayed to the gods that he would get his chance before the battle was over.

What a difference seventy-two hours made.

Less than five thousand men remained of the army that had met Paulinus and the soldiers of the XIV _Gemina _on the field of battle three days before. Few, if any, of his senior commanders still lived, for they had stood their ground and fought on even when the battle had turned in the Romans[HTML_REMOVED] favor. Myrrdin would have gone down fighting alongside them if the queen hadn[HTML_REMOVED]t ordered him to retreat, to ensure that someone still remained who could rally the remnants of the Iceni and see to it that their people[HTML_REMOVED]s sacrifice was not in vain.

How he wished he had never left her side!

He reached up and fingered the torc he wore about his neck, the one Boudica had entrusted to him before the battle. She[HTML_REMOVED]d always claimed it to be the root of her power, that the metal from which it was formed, the metal given to them by the very gods themselves, protected her time and time again. But Boudica was dead now, poisoned by her own hand while in Roman custody rather than be handed over to Paulinus[HTML_REMOVED]s troops as a plaything for their amusement. When word reached him earlier that morning of her fate, he wept, wondering if he[HTML_REMOVED]d condemned her to death simply by taking the torc.

Not that it mattered now; what was done was done. Myrrdin was a good enough tactician to know that at this point there was no way the Iceni could win. They were outnumbered and the Romans were not only better armed but better armored, as well. If he hadn[HTML_REMOVED]t been able to beat them with eighty thousand warriors at his command, there was no way he was going to be able to do so with only five thousand. But there was no question of retreat. He would rather die on the field of battle, sword in hand, than be hunted down like a dog in the weeks to come.

And perhaps, Awran willing, he could take a few Romans with him as an offering before it was his time to die.

He let his gaze roam over the soldiers gathering on the field below. Unlike his ragtag band of warriors, who often wore as little into battle as possible, the Romans were all dressed in identical coats of chain armor worn over a short jerkin with thick-soled leather sandals on their feet. They each carried two iron-tipped spears, pilums he[HTML_REMOVED]d heard them called. The short swords were designed primarily for stabbing in close-quarter combat. The soldiers also held large rectangular shields, big enough to cover a man from ankle to chin.

The legion[HTML_REMOVED]s standard, a charging boar on a field of crimson that was so dark as to be almost purple, flapped in the afternoon breeze, the Romans arrogantly claiming this land on behalf of the Emperor.

Myrrdin turned and surveyed the men assembled behind him. What a sharp contrast to those they were about to face. Where the Romans were tall and muscled from years of disciplined labor, his men were smaller and wiry in nature, built for speed and dexterity. Where the Romans were armored and carried multiple weapons, many of his men were naked or nearly so, their fair skin decorated in blue woad. They clutched swords made of iron and carried small, round shields of leather stretched over wooden frames.

Of his illustrious horse soldiers, less than fifty remained. They sat stiffly in the saddle off to his right, weary from the days of fighting and the long chase they had endured so far, yet none hesitated to return his gaze or gave any sign they would shy away from the confrontation to come.

As he turned away, one thought was prominent in his mind.

We don[HTML_REMOVED]t stand a chance.

Myrrdin shook his head, clearing it of such defeatism. The simple fact was he no longer had any choice; there was nowhere else to run. He[HTML_REMOVED]d never get his men through the bogs on the other side of the hills before the enemy could catch up with them. He had no choice but to stand and fight.

Like all good commanders, Myrrdin wanted that fight on his terms, not the enemy[HTML_REMOVED]s, which was why he[HTML_REMOVED]d assembled his men along the crest of the hill while the Romans attempted to set up camp in the valley below. He hadn[HTML_REMOVED]t been able to choose the field on which they would meet, but he[HTML_REMOVED]d be damned if he wouldn[HTML_REMOVED]t choose the time.

And that time was now, before the enemy got themselves organized and settled in.

He brought his horn to his lips and blew a long blast. The sound echoed across the valley, like a great voice shouting from the hilltop, and Myrrdin smiled in defiance as he watched the Roman soldiers milling about in response.

Behind him, his men took up the call to battle, pounding the flats of their swords against their shields, calling up a frightful racket, letting the spirits know that there would soon be newcomers, friend and foe alike, entering the land of the dead. Bare-breasted women moved among the ranks, screaming in hatred at the Romans massed below and whispering words of encouragement to their men, stoking the twin fires of courage and power.

Myrrdin let it build for a few minutes, allowing his men to whip themselves into a killing frenzy, and then, when he judged the time was right, he raised his right arm above his head, his fist clenched for all to see, and then brought it slashing downward.

Like a breaking wave his army surged into motion, pouring down the hill toward the enemy, shrieking their war cries as they went.

With a joyous shout, Myrrdin spurred his horse and joined them, thundering down toward the rapidly forming enemy line. Behind him came the rest of his horse soldiers, their voices raised in harmony with his own.

Ahead of them the Romans stood shoulder to shoulder in a long, unbroken line, waiting with disciplined ease for the enemy to make contact, their oversize shields held before them to form a wall. As the Iceni warriors closed in, the Romans unleashed a blistering rain of stones and spears from behind the protection of that wall, hoping to blunt the force of the attack. The Iceni had faced the Romans before, however, and they were ready, having expected just such a move. Almost as one they bent low over their mounts, their heads sheltered by the animals[HTML_REMOVED] long necks, and as a result the majority of them made it through the storm unscathed.

Mere yards separated the two forces and Myrddin felt his lips peel back from his teeth as he bared them at the enemy like a wild animal defending its den. Heart racing, blood pumping, he let out another shout of defiance and drove his horse right into the ranks of the enemy, smashing aside that wall of shields, trampling those foolish enough to stand firm in the face of the attack under the hooves of his battle-hardened mount. Beside him, his horse warriors did the same, smashing aside the Roman line, creating a breach for their foot soldiers to exploit as they caught up with the charging cavalry.

In seconds the orderly nature of the Roman defense had dissolved into chaos.

The air was full of the coppery scent of fresh blood, the smell of leather and sweat, the screams of the injured and the dying. Myrrdin slashed about him with his sword, hacking at anyone who got close enough, striking down as many of the enemy as he could, driving his horse relentlessly forward, doing all he could to widen the gap, to give his people a fighting chance at survival. If they could break through the other side of the Roman battle line, some of them might survive to fight another day.

A tall Roman rose up on his right side, his battle-ax already in motion, but Myrrdin took the blow on the buckler strapped to his left arm. The shield shattered, smashed to pieces by the force of the blow, but it served its purpose, giving Myrrdin time to thrust his sword deep into the other man[HTML_REMOVED]s chest, killing him where he stood. The Iceni chieftain turned in the saddle, searching for his next foe.

The spear came out of nowhere, whistling through the air with all the grace of a weapon of war doing just what it had been designed to do. It struck him high in the right side. As luck would have it, he[HTML_REMOVED]d been in the midst of turning and the projectile drove into the narrow gap his mail coat failed to cover at his armpit, burying itself deep in his chest.

It was like being buried in an avalanche of ice, his sword falling away from fingers gone suddenly numb, his grip on the saddle loosening as he lost the feeling in his legs, and he tumbled from his mount to lie in the mud of the battlefield as the fight raged on around him.

As his vision began to narrow and the darkness closed in, Myrrdin could have sworn he felt the torc about his neck pulse in time with his heartbeat.

Annja Creed studied the decapitated heads on the table in front of her.

Two of them had their eyes closed, as if they[HTML_REMOVED]d died peacefully in their sleep, but Annja knew better than to trust in simple appearances. There had been nothing peaceful about their passing; the fact that they were sitting on the table minus the rest of their bodies was proof of that, she thought wryly. The eye...

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### Product Description

**Men would do anything for it…but one woman will determine its fate**

Steeped in legend, the Pearl of Palawan has a history marked by destruction, vengeance and love. But more important, the mythical black pearl is rumored to grant a power long coveted by mankind—immortality. It is a power men would risk dying to achieve.

Sun, sand and scuba diving in the Philippines certainly sounded like an ideal vacation. But after a way-too-close-for-comfort encounter with a tiger shark, archaeologist Annja Creed finds herself drawn into a group of German divers. They are treasure hunters searching for the fabled pearl. Out of curiosity, Annja accompanies them. But when an old friend of hers turns up unexpectedly, she finds herself torn between her past and new acquaintances.

The race is on to possess the pearl. But no one realizes the true nature of the artifact, or the danger it poses to them all.

<

One mystery could change the fate of a nation...

The skeletal remains of a confederate soldier, hidden deep within the Paris Catacombs. The legend of a long-lost Confederate treasure. An aged scrap of paper that reads simply, Berceau de solitude—Cradle of Solitude.

It was sheer dumb luck, really. Archaeologist Annja Creed happened to be in Paris when the bones of the soldier were discovered. But this was no ordinary soldier—this man was the keeper of a treasure that could have affected the outcome of the American Revolution. Somewhere, the treasure waits to be claimed.

Now Annja is unraveling a 150-year-old mystery and a trail of clues that will lead her across the ocean and deep into the heart of the Old South. But she isn't the only seeker of this treasure. Someone else wants it—bad enough to kill anyone who stands in their way....<

Product Description

The year is 43 AD and after growing up on the fertile slopes of Picenum overlooking the Adriatic sea, Cassus, son of a nobleman and Prydain, son of an ex gladiator, set out to fulfil their destiny in the service of Rome.

Four legions have assembled in Gaul undertaking final preparations for the invasion of Britannia and the two young men are posted to a training cohort under the sadistic tutorage of a battle scarred veteran, Remus. The training is brutal but eventually the trainees find themselves involved in their first campaign

The invasion of Britannia.

The legions rampage through the Celtic land in a frenzy of brutality and aggression, and, as events unfold, Gwydion, one of the defending Celtic warriors is forced to leave the bloody battle to embark on a frantic rescue mission to the Mona, the island of the Druids, closely followed by a pursuing cohort of legionaries.

The Romans find themselves in strange and unfriendly environment and, as they close in on their quarry, the fates of all four men become intertwined and a long held secret revealed culminating in a savage and astonishing climax.

<

Newly widowed Poppy Shilling should be feeling distraught at the death of her husband, Phil. But, instead, she can't help feeling relieved. No longer will she have to endure Phil's iron fist ruling over her and their two young children, or his unfortunate penchant for lycra cycling wear.

What's more, when a secret is revealed after his death, Poppy's memories of their life together are turned upside down.

Freed from the shackles of her loveless marriage, Poppy is determined not to make the same mistakes again. Fully embracing village life, she becomes the object of the local menfolk's affections- from Bob, the resident odd ball, to Luke, the sexy church organist. But it's just her luck that the one man who catches her eye can't seem to let go of his glamorous ex wife...

Will Poppy have the courage to follow her heart and refuse to settle for second best? It's time for a new beginning, and a chance to discover what real love feels...<

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