Isabella Beverley is blessed with unparalleled beauty but, unfortunately, has been raised in the most snobbish and haughtiest of families. When her father gambles away their fortune - including Mannerling, the exquisite family mansion - Isabella discovers there is very little sympathy for her plight. As the eldest, Isabella is chosen to court Mr. Judd, the roguish bachelor who won Mannerling. Surely no sacrifice is too great to regain Mannerling? But tempting her away from Mr. Judd is Lord Fitzpatrick, an Irish rake who fears Isabella can never love a man as she does her home.

At age 26 Agatha Raisin has already come a long way. She has clawed her way up since leaving the Birmingham slum where she was born. She's lost her Birmingham accent, run away from her drunken husband, and found a job at a public relations office as a secretary. Then her boss asks Agatha to go to the home of Sir Bryce Teller to tell him that he is soon to be arrested for the murder of his wife and that the agency no longer wants to represent him.

Tongues were set wagging when Elizabeth Markham's glamorous young parents were killed, sinking their only child to the unspeakable class of poor relation. Forced to live with her cruel, miserly uncle Julius, Elizabeth is forbidden to partake in the season's festivities. Marriage is her only escape, and she enacts a daring plan to trick her way into the Duke of Dunster's exclusive house party, to snare one of the eligible dandies sure to dance attendance on her.

Minerva marks the delightful debut of The Six Sisters, a family saga in six volumes that will recount the romantic adventures of the six marriageable daughters of a country vicar, the Reverend Charles Armitage, in Regency England. The eldest, Minerva, is enchantingly beautiful - but a prude. She lives in the country looking after her siblings while her mother reclines on a chaise longue happily inventing new malaises.

Is Number 67 Clarges Steet the unluckiest house in Mayfair? Every season the beau mondes of the Regency would hire a house in the heart of London’s fashionable West End at disproportionately high rent for often inferior accommodation and yet Number 67 Clarges Street, a town house complete with staff, remains vacant from year to year. Could it be that it is associated with ill luck and even death? Something must be done so that the servants of this house don’t lose their livelihood.