Amber

  • Aelopile

    Smoldering coals heat the device from below, and steam hisses through two curved pipes, rotating the shining brass sphere.

    Glowing amber and citrus, labdanum, verbena, cedar, and oud.

    Select Options
  • Aeronwen

    Fig, dark myrrh, amber, redwood, nutmeg, tarragon, black musk, and sweet orange.

    Add to cart
  • Aglaea

    Splendour

    Three golden ambers, bright musk, peach wine and myrtle.

    Select Options
  • Agrat-Bat-Mahlaht

    Amber, cream accord, white honey, apple blossom, skin musk, caramel, and teak.

    Add to cart
  • Alabaster Vulva

    White amber and sheer vanilla, orris butter, Italian bergamot, and narcissus.

    Out of Stock
  • Australian Copperhead

    Snake Oil with acai berry, amber, cardamom, white sandalwood, neroli, and smoked vanilla.

    Out of Stock
  • Baghdad – Resurrected

    Amber, saffron and bergamot with mandarin, nutmeg, Bulgar rose, musk and sandalwood.

    Out of Stock
  • Bast

    There was a girl. He had met her somewhere, and now they were walking across a bridge. It spanned a small lake, in the middle of a town. The wind was ruffling the surface of the lake, making waves tipped with whitecaps, which seemed to Shadow to be tiny hands reaching for him.

    — Down there, said the woman. She was wearing a leopard-print skirt, which flapped and tossed in the wind, and the flesh between the top of her stockings and her skirt was creamy and soft and in his dream, on the bridge, before God and the world, Shadow went down to his knees in front of her, burying his head in her crotch, drinking in the intoxicating jungle female scent of her. He became aware, in his dream, of his erection in real life, a rigid, pounding, monstrous thing as painful in its hardness as the erections he’d had as a boy, when he was crashing into puberty.

    He pulled away and looked upward, and still he could not see her face. But his mouth was seeking hers and her lips were soft against his, and his hands were cupping her breasts, and then they were running across the satin smoothness of her skin, pushing into and parting the furs that hid her waist, sliding into the wonderful cleft of her, which warmed and wetted and parted for him, opening to his hand like a flower.

    The woman purred against him ecstatically, her hand moving down to the hardness of him and squeezing it. He pushed the bedsheets away and rolled on top of her, his hand parting her thighs, her hand guiding him between her legs, where one thrust, one magical push . . .

    Now he was back in his old prison cell with her, and he was kissing her deeply. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, clamped her legs about his legs to hold him tight, so he could not pull out, not even if he wanted to.

    Never had he kissed lips so soft. He had not known that there were lips so soft in the whole world. Her tongue, though, was sandpaper-rough as it slipped against his.

    —Who are you? he asked.

    She made no answer, just pushed him onto his back and, in one lithe movement, straddled him and began to ride him. No, not to ride him: to insinuate herself against him in series of silken-smooth waves, each more powerful than the one before, strokes and beats and rhythms that crashed against his mind and his body just as the wind-waves on the lake splashed against the shore. Her nails were needle-sharp and they pierced his sides, raking them, but he felt no pain, only pleasure, everything was transmuted by some alchemy into moments of utter pleasure.

    He struggled to find himself, struggled to talk, his head now filled with sand dunes and desert winds.

    —Who are you? he asked again, gasping for the words.

    She stared at him with eyes the color of dark amber, then lowered her mouth to his and kissed him with a passion, kissed him so completely and so deeply that there, on the bridge over the lake, in his prison cell, in the bed in the Cairo funeral home, he almost came. He rode the sensation like a kite riding a hurricane, willing it not to crest, not to explode, wanting it never to end.

    A desert wind alight with myrrh and golden amber, cardamom and honey, bourbon vanilla and cacao.

    Add to cart
  • Bastet

    Bast, Ubasti, Ailuros, Ba-en-Aset. Represented as both a domestic cat and a fierce lioness, she truly evidences traits of both. She is the Mother of All Cats, Goddess of Sensuality, Fertility, and a guardian and protector of women. She is also one of the Eyes of Ra, and in that aspect is an Avenging Goddess, seeking retribution and punishing enemies of her people.

    Luxuriant amber, warm Egyptian musk, fierce saffron and soft myrrh, almond, cardamom and golden lotus.

    Select Options
  • Bette Noir

    The Paradigm’s martial artist and weapons master, Bette carries a grim secret—that she alone knows Plutonian’s one true vulnerability.

    Benzoin, wild plum, smoky amber, bergamot, orange blossom, myrrh, and dark berries.

    Add to cart
  • Black Lotus

    Born in the shadows of a Temple to Set, this corrupted Egyptian scent evokes images of black pyramids, river demons, and bleak, deadly desert sands. Black lotus flower, amber, myrrh and sandalwood.

    Select Options
  • Black Rose

    Exquisitely melancholy. The background scent to an ancient exequies. Heavy, dark and floral: a blend of roses, with a touch of amber and musk.

    Select Options
  • Blóðughadda

    Crushed Baltic amber, golden fig, oud wood, red patchouli, white clove, and saffron.

    Add to cart
  • Blood Amber

    Slivers of warm, pulsating blood forever crystallized in golden amber resin.

    Select Options
  • Brisingamen

    The amber necklace of Freyja, Norse Goddess of Love, Sex, Attraction and Fruitfulness. Her magnificent necklace was bough from four Dwarves [Alfrik, Berling, Dvalin and Grer] at the price of four nights of her passion. When Brisingamen graces your throat, no man can resist your charms. A glittering mantle of rich golden notes: five ambers, soft myrtle, apple blossom and carnation.

    Select Options
  • Cat Chasing Butterflies

    Peach blossom and amber with almond cream and sweet musk.

    Out of Stock
  • Cleric

    Rose amber, frankincense, myrrh, champaca flower, Peru balsam, cistus, palisander, cananga, hyssop, and narcissus absolute.

    Select Options
  • Cock Stamen

    Red orchid, dragon’s blood resin, blood orange, black lily, honey amber, and cacao

    Out of Stock
  • Coyote

    The Native American Creator / Trickster God of Chaos and Change.

    The warmth of doeskin, dry plains grasses and soft, dusty woods warmed by amber and a downy, gentle coat of deep musk.

    Select Options
  • Cytherea

    White sandalwood, patchouli, white amber, orris, bourbon vanilla, champaca flower, and kush.

    Add to cart
  • Ded Moroz

    Grandfather Frost! Accompanied by his granddaughter, Snegurochka, the Snow Maiden, he bestows gifts to virtuous and hard-working people, rewarding their decency and integrity, and punishes those who are lazy, shiftless, and unkind, killing their fields with frost, cracking the trunks of their trees, and destroying their homes.

    The first incarnation of Father Frost was not at all benevolent. He was the personification of the darkest aspects of winter, winter’s destruction incarnate. He kidnapped unruly children, and slew people capriciously by freezing them to death.

    Light, darkness, kindness, and malice: golden amber, white amber, redwood, teak, bois du rose, sage, tree moss, and snow.

    Add to cart
  • Elf

    Pale golden musk, honeycomb, amber, parma violet, hawthorne bark, aspen leaf, forest lily, life everlasting, white moss, and a hint of wild berry.

    Select Options
  • Faiza, The Lady of Serpents

    Upon the next stage, a primitive cage has been erected. It is made of heavy, dark sticks bound with strips of deep brown leather. The stage is as dark as pitch, and from the shadows, you hear soft hissing, spitting, and an ominous chorus of weird rattling sounds. You approach with some trepidation, and peer between the bars. Your attention is seized by writhing forms on the straw bottom of the cage. As your eyes adjust to the gloom, you realize that the floor is seething with serpents, dark and colorful, languid and large, swift and small. You hear a sultry chuckle, and you see bright, unblinking emerald eyes staring at you from the corner of the cage. A woman crawls through the snakes, her scaled body as sinuous and lissome as the creatures that share her home. She reaches towards you languorously with her sharp-clawed hands and sighs.

    A sensual blend of twisting, exotic, serpentine oils: black amber, oakmoss, green sandalwood, bergamot, jasmine sambac, gardenia, orange pulp, black cardamom, vanilla, blackberry, black musk, blackened vanilla husk, white honey, ti leaf, and ginger.

    Add to cart
  • Fallen

    Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heav’n.

    This is our song to Lucifer, Lucis Ferre, Heosphoros, the Morning Star, the Brilliant One and the Son of the Morning. He is equated with Samhazai, the Heaven-Seizer, and Azazel, one of the 200 Fallen Angels of Enoch. The essence of overweening pride and unearthly angelic beauty. A regal scent, glowing darkly, elegant and patrician, but unfathomably desolate. Cherubic white sandalwood and golden musk with a dark halo of amber, a breath of imperial florals, unbending woods, and the shadow cast by vetiver and violet.

    Select Options
  • Fenris Wolf

    The raw, untamable power of chaos. Rosewood, amber, red musk and a dribble of red sandalwood.

    Select Options
  • Forbidden Fruit – Resurrected

    As light and innocent as your first time should have been. The fresh scent of lotus hidden behind lightly scented flowers, amber, and citrus.

    Out of Stock
  • Fortuna Dubia

    Perilous Fortune

    A hymn to avert misfortune and danger: honey infused with protective herbs and hope preserved in pale amber.

    Out of Stock
  • Fourth Lash

    Black rose, Baltic amber, leather, white sandalwood, black pepper, and vetiver.

    Add to cart
  • Placeholder

    Gelt

    Sevivon, sov, sov, sov
    Chanukah, hu chag tov
    Chanukah, hu chag tov
    Sevivon, sov, sov, sov!

    Chag simcha hu la-am
    Nes gadol haya sham
    Nes gadol haya sham
    Chag simcha hu la-am.

    A bounty of chocolate coins! Dry cocoa and golden amber!

    Add to cart
  • Ginny, The Reaper of Vengeance

    Sharp tobacco flower and white cognac, a thin layer of smoke, and dusty black pepper pierced by the amber of her eyes.

    Add to cart
  • Glass Eye

    “How’d you lose your eye?”

    Wednesday shoveled half a dozen pieces of bacon into his mouth, chewed, wiped the fat from his lips with the back of his hand. “Didn’t lose it,” he said. “I still know exactly where it is.”

     

    The depths of Mímisbrunnr: mugwort and frankincense, grey amber and ash.

    Add to cart
  • Globe

    A russet chypre slathered in vintage patchouli and black tea with golden amber, hiba wood, and iris root.

    Out of Stock
  • Golden Priapus

    Insatiable lust, unending vigor! A truly carnal, energetic men’s blend: vanilla and amber with juniper, rosewood and white pine.

    Select Options
  • Hearthflame and Incense

    Crackling almond wood and the deep sweet smoke of burgundy pitch, Austrian amber resin, black copal, and frankincense.

    Add to cart
  • Heroine

    Heroine is the first scent created specifically for The Hero Initiative, and the label art is by the fabulous Adam Hughes!

    Nepalese amber, East African patchouli, dark musk, apple blossom, petitgrain, aged leather, skin musk, and rhubarb.

    Out of Stock
  • Hollywood Babylon

    The essence of innocence shattered: glittering Egyptian amber and heliotrope, infused with the sweetness of strawberry and vanilla – dragged into debauch by lusty red musk and a dribble of black cherry.

    Select Options
  • Hunter

    He turned, and standing there was a tall woman, with long, tawny hair, and skin the color of burnt caramel. She wore dappled leather clothes, mottled in shades of gray and brown. She had a battered leather duffel bag over her shoulder. She was carrying a staff, and she had a knife at her belt and an electric flashlight strapped to her wrist. She was also, without question, the most beautiful woman that Richard had ever seen.

    Leonine amber, tanned hides, clove, and clary sage.

    Add to cart
  • Imp

    Devilishly playful: white peach, amber, golden musk and patchouli.

    Select Options
  • Imp Pack: Amber

    —Bastet
    —Brisingamen
    —Haunted
    —The Lion
    —The Little Wooden Doll
    —Tamora

    Out of Stock
  • Inez

    Golden amber, vanilla musk, myrrh, cedar, carnation, and red sandalwood.

    Add to cart
  • Inside the Golden Amber of Her Eyeballs

    A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place
    your sight can knock on, echoing; but here
    within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze
    will be absorbed and utterly disappear:

    just as a raving madman, when nothing else
    can ease him, charges into his dark night
    howling, pounds on the padded wall, and feels
    the rage being taken in and pacified.

    She seems to hide all looks that have ever fallen
    into her, so that, like an audience,
    she can look them over, menacing and sullen,
    and curl to sleep with them. But all at once

    as if awakened, she turns her face to yours;
    and with a shock, you see yourself, tiny,
    inside the golden amber of her eyeballs
    suspended, like a prehistoric fly.

    – Rainer Maria Rilke

    Sleek black fur and gleaming amber shining in the shadows, a rumble of myrrh, and claws as sharp as ti leaf.

    Add to cart
  • Kaidan

    Youngest of The Paradigm, when Kaidan recites the ghost stories of Japanese legend, she brings their spectral warriors to life.

    Rosehip, plum blossom, white sandalwood, jonquil, and amber-laden incense.

    Add to cart
  • Le Lèthè

    Viens sur mon coeur, âme cruelle et sourde,
    Tigre adoré, monstre aux airs indolents;
    Je veux longtemps plonger mes doigts tremblants
    Dans l’épaisseur de ta crinière lourde;

    Dans tes jupons remplis de ton parfum
    Ensevelir ma tête endolorie,
    Et respirer, comme une fleur flétrie,
    Le doux relent de mon amour défunt.

    Je veux dormir! dormir plutôt que vivre!
    Dans un sommeil aussi doux que la mort,
    J’étalerai mes baisers sans remords
    Sur ton beau corps poli comme le cuivre.

    Pour engloutir mes sanglots apaisés
    Rien ne me vaut l’abîme de ta couche;
    L’oubli puissant habite sur ta bouche,
    Et le Léthé coule dans tes baisers.

    À mon destin, désormais mon délice,
    J’obéirai comme un prédestiné;
    Martyr docile, innocent condamné,
    Dont la ferveur attise le supplice,

    Je sucerai, pour noyer ma rancoeur,
    Le népenthès et la bonne ciguë
    Aux bouts charmants de cette gorge aiguë
    Qui n’a jamais emprisonné de coeur.

    – – –

    Come, lie upon my breast, cruel, insensitive soul,
    Adored tigress, monster with the indolent air;
    I want to plunge trembling fingers for a long time
    In the thickness of your heavy mane,

    To bury my head, full of pain
    In your skirts redolent of your perfume,
    To inhale, as from a withered flower,
    The moldy sweetness of my defunct love.

    I wish to sleep! to sleep rather than live!
    In a slumber doubtful as death,
    I shall remorselessly cover with my kisses
    Your lovely body polished like copper.

    To bury my subdued sobbing
    Nothing equals the abyss of your bed,
    Potent oblivion dwells upon your lips
    And Lethe flows in your kisses.

    My fate, hereafter my delight,
    I’ll obey like one predestined;
    Docile martyr, innocent man condemned,
    Whose fervor aggravates the punishment.

    I shall suck, to drown my rancor,
    Nepenthe and the good hemlock
    From the charming tips of those pointed breasts
    That have never guarded a heart.

    Red musk and sweat-damp golden skin musk with labdanum, golden amber, nutmeg, tobacco absolute, black orchid, and hemlock accord.

    Select Options
  • Lion

    The dry, glorious warmth of the Savannah. A golden, spiced amber, proud, regal and ferocious.

    Select Options
  • Machu Picchu

    Sweet tropical fruits burst through deep, wet rainforest boughs, enormous steamy blossoms, over thin mountaintop breezes, mingled with the soft, rich golden scent of Peruvian amber.

    Select Options
  • Manhattan

    Sexuality, power, confidence. A meeting of modern, sleek elegance and rich, passionate history: sheer amber, black leather, white mint, lemon peel, white tea, grapefruit, kush, teakwood and orchid.

    Select Options
  • Mirror of the Famous Generals of Japan

    Leather, black pepper, cassis, khus, and black amber.

    Out of Stock
  • Misericordia

    The Misericordia, or Tristis, are vampires that are consumed with a longing to regain their lost humanity, some to the point of being driven mad by the desire to be human once more. The shock of their transition into vampirism and the rejection they faced from friends and loved ones was devastating, and it compromises their ability to find solace and comfort. Unlike the Transeo, Misericordia cannot merge into human society, but are relegated by their own grief to the position of outsiders. Their inherent melancholy and morose temperaments make it difficult for them to cultivate relationships with either humans or vampires. Most vampires treat the Misericordia with a fair amount of derision, and they are sometimes hunted by Interfectors who see the perspective of the Misericordia as an affront to their way of thinking.

    Eons of grief and unending hunger: magnolia, black currant, castoreum accord, lavender, labdanum, amber, rose otto, and opoponax.

    Add to cart
  • Molly, The Reaper of Justice

    White lime with lily of the valley, oudh, Himalayan cedar, nagarmotha, and tobacco for the sheen of raven feathers, and saffron, white honey, and amber for her fierceness, strength, and courage.

    Add to cart
  • Moons of Saturn: Telesto

    One of the Oceanids, the Three-Thousand Daughters of Tethys and Oceanus. Draped in a sun-bright peplos of flowing champaca, Bengal oudh, golden vanilla, neroli, and amber cream, she personifies divine blessings.
    Out of Stock
  • Moscow

    A rich, bold blend of imperial rose, carnation, lush jasmine, lily of the valley, dark musk, amber, bergamot and gilded tangerine.

    Select Options
  • Mouse’s Long and Sad Tale

    ‘Fury said to a
    mouse, That he
    met in the
    house,
    “Let us
    both go to
    law: I will
    prosecute
    YOU. –Come,
    I’ll take no
    denial; We
    must have a
    trial: For
    really this
    morning I’ve
    nothing
    to do.”
    Said the
    mouse to the
    cur, “Such
    a trial,
    dear Sir,
    With
    no jury
    or judge,
    would be
    wasting
    our
    breath.”
    “I’ll be
    judge, I’ll
    be jury,”
    Said
    cunning
    old Fury:
    “I’ll
    try the
    whole
    cause,
    and
    condemn
    you
    to
    d
    e
    a
    t
    h
    .”

    Vanilla, two ambers, sweet pea and white sandalwood.

    Select Options
  • Nanny Ashtoreth

    She wore a knit tweed suit and discreet pearl earrings. Something about her might have said nanny, but it said it in an undertone of the sort employed by British butlers in a certain type of American film. It also coughed discreetly and muttered that she could well be the sort of nanny who advertises unspecified but strangely explicit services in certain magazines.

    Middle Eastern flowers, amber, honey, blood red-berries, whip leather, and polished paddle wood.

    Add to cart
  • Novel Ideas for Secret Amusements

    Polished tortoiseshell, ivory, and mahogany gleaming with amber cream.

    Out of Stock
  • O

    The scent of sexual obsession, slavery to sensual pleasure, and the undercurrent of innocence defiled utterly. Amber and honey with a touch of vanilla.

    Select Options
  • Odic Force

    The desire to inflict a mortal wound on the monster, Superstition, which, from a similar origin, a few centuries ago, inflicted on European society so vast an amount of misery, and by whose influence not hundreds, but thousands, of innocent persons died in tortures, on the rack and at the stake; — the desire made me wish to make the experiment, if possible, of bringing a highly sensitive person, by night, to a churchyard. I thought it possible that they might see, over graves where mouldering bodies lay, something like that which Billing had seen.
    Eucalyptus blossom, lime rind, and white mint coalescing into a green-tinged amber glow.

    Add to cart
  • Old Scratch

    Old Nick, the Devil himself, as seen through the eyes of Victorian New England. A jaunty, dapper scent, deceptively genteel: a lavender fougere with tonka, amber, rosewood and a whiff of diabolical patchouli.

    Select Options
  • One Perfect Day

    You did not need to creep into my heart
    The way you did. You could have smiled
    And knowing what you did, you have kept apart
    From all my inner soul. But you beguiled
    Deliberately.

    —Alice Dunbar-Nelson

    Honeyed tea rose, lavender water, red benzoin, bois de rose, and rose amber.

    Out of Stock
  • Pallid Bat

    I want my rooftop filled with Pallid Bats. Not only are they cute as hell, but their favored meal is the Arizona bark scorpion, whose sting is the most venomous to be found in North America.

    Bats > Scorpions
    (Sorry, Scorpios!)

    Tea leaf, bourbon, a sting of white ginger, and Italian bergamot swirled in amber incense smoke.

    Add to cart
  • Queen Butterfly

    Lady Butterfly
    perfumes her wings
    by floating over this orchid

    Russet amber and orange blossom honey, red labdanum and wild plum, golden musk and a rustle of patchouli root.

    Add to cart
  • Sapphics

    All the night sleep came not upon my eyelids,
    Shed not dew, nor shook nor unclosed a feather,
    Yet with lips shut close and with eyes of iron
    Stood and beheld me.

    Then to me so lying awake a vision
    Came without sleep over the seas and touched me,
    Softly touched mine eyelids and lips; and I too,
    Full of the vision,

    Saw the white implacable Aphrodite,
    Saw the hair unbound and the feet unsandalled
    Shine as fire of sunset on western waters;
    Saw the reluctant

    Feet, the straining plumes of the doves that drew her,
    Looking always, looking with necks reverted,
    Back to Lesbos, back to the hills whereunder
    Shone Mitylene;

    Heard the flying feet of the Loves behind her
    Make a sudden thunder upon the waters,
    As the thunder flung from the strong unclosing
    Wings of a great wind.

    So the goddess fled from her place, with awful
    Sound of feet and thunder of wings around her;
    While behind a clamour of singing women
    Severed the twilight.

    Ah the singing, ah the delight, the passion!
    All the Loves wept, listening; sick with anguish,
    Stood the crowned nine Muses about Apollo;
    Fear was upon them,

    While the tenth sang wonderful things they knew not.
    Ah the tenth, the Lesbian! the nine were silent,
    None endured the sound of her song for weeping;
    Laurel by laurel,

    Faded all their crowns; but about her forehead,
    Round her woven tresses and ashen temples
    White as dead snow, paler than grass in summer,
    Ravaged with kisses,

    Shone a light of fire as a crown for ever.
    Yea, almost the implacable Aphrodite
    Paused, and almost wept; such a song was that song.
    Yea, by her name too

    Called her, saying, “Turn to me, O my Sappho;”
    Yet she turned her face from the Loves, she saw not
    Tears for laughter darken immortal eyelids,
    Heard not about her

    Fearful fitful wings of the doves departing,
    Saw not how the bosom of Aphrodite
    Shook with weeping, saw not her shaken raiment,
    Saw not her hands wrung;

    Saw the Lesbians kissing across their smitten
    Lutes with lips more sweet than the sound of lute-strings,
    Mouth to mouth and hand upon hand, her chosen,
    Fairer than all men;

    Only saw the beautiful lips and fingers,
    Full of songs and kisses and little whispers,
    Full of music; only beheld among them
    Soar, as a bird soars

    Newly fledged, her visible song, a marvel,
    Made of perfect sound and exceeding passion,
    Sweetly shapen, terrible, full of thunders,
    Clothed with the wind’s wings.

    Then rejoiced she, laughing with love, and scattered
    Roses, awful roses of holy blossom;
    Then the Loves thronged sadly with hidden faces
    Round Aphrodite,

    Then the Muses, stricken at heart, were silent;
    Yea, the gods waxed pale; such a song was that song.
    All reluctant, all with a fresh repulsion,
    Fled from before her.

    All withdrew long since, and the land was barren,
    Full of fruitless women and music only.
    Now perchance, when winds are assuaged at sunset,
    Lulled at the dewfall,

    By the grey sea-side, unassuaged, unheard of,
    Unbeloved, unseen in the ebb of twilight,
    Ghosts of outcast women return lamenting,
    Purged not in Lethe,

    Clothed about with flame and with tears, and singing
    Songs that move the heart of the shaken heaven,
    Songs that break the heart of the earth with pity,
    Hearing, to hear them.
    —Algernon Charles Swinburne

    Tonka, oakmoss, tolu balsam, grey amber, myrrh, and muguet.

    Out of Stock
  • Scarecrow Turned Philosopher

    Once I said to a scarecrow, “You must be tired of standing in this
    lonely field.”

    And he said, “The joy of scaring is a deep and lasting one, and I
    never tire of it.”

    Said I, after a minute of thought, “It is true; for I too have
    known that joy.”

    Said he, “Only those who are stuffed with straw can know it.”

    Then I left him, not knowing whether he had complimented or belittled
    me.

    A year passed, during which the scarecrow turned philosopher.

    And when I passed by him again I saw two crows building a nest
    under his hat.

    – Kahlil Gibran

    Corn husks waving on an autumn breeze, beams of amber sunlight, hay bales, and late summer wildflowers.

    Add to cart
  • Seth

    Sudanese myrrh, papyrus, champaca flower, black lotus, amber, and honeyed leather.

    Add to cart
  • Seven Word Story: Wrath

    The subject of our latest #BPAL7wordstory contest was WRATH. The winning entry was submitted by Miss Paulette:

    The poison worked slowly, to her delight.

    Bitter almond swirled into black patchouli, with red amber, rum absolute, and lemon peel.

    Add to cart
  • Shadow

    “How the hell did you find me here?” he asked his dead wife.

    She shook her head slowly, amused. “You shine like a beacon in a dark world,” she told him. “It wasn’t that hard…”

    Grey oudh and bay rum luminous with amber.

    Add to cart
  • Sin

    Thouroughly corrupted: amber, sandalwood, black patchouli and cinnamon.

    Select Options
  • Spellbound

    Perfectly enchanting! An irresistibly sexual, utterly rapturous blend of three roses, radiant amber, and sensual red musk.

    Select Options
  • Tamora

    Amber, heliotrope, golden sandalwood, peach blossom and vanilla bean.

    Select Options
  • Tenochtitlan

    The greatest of all Aztec cities, and capital of their empire. Amber, hyssop, coriander, epazote, Mexican sage, prickly pear and Mexican tulip poppy.

    Select Options
  • The Air and the Ether

    But on what could an impression be left? An impression of such a nature becomes a material thing and implies a material nexus, however subtle. So far as we know there are only two things there, the air and the ether. The air is a mobile thing and could not carry a permanent impression. But is the ether a mobile thing? It is pictured as a most delicate medium with vibrating currents flowing in it, but it seems to me that a most tenuous jelly with quivers and thrills would be a closer analogy. We could conceive the whole material universe embedded in and interpenetrated by this subtle material, which would not necessarily change its position since it is too fine for wind or any coarser material to influence it. I feel that I am rushing in where even Lodges fear to tread, but if it should prove to be as I suggest then we should have that permanent screen on which shadows are thrown. The block of ether upon the stairs is the same that it always was, and so conveys the impression from the past.

    the Edge of the Unknown, Arthur Conan Doyle

    Gentle, almost imperceptible, permeating all things: pale amber vibrating with ambergris and a thread of lavender.

    Add to cart
  • The Carousel

    Calliope music played: a Strauss waltz, stirring and occasionally discordant. The wall as they entered was hung with antique carousel horses, hundreds of them, some in need of a lick of paint, others in need of a good dusting; above them hung dozens of winged angels constructed rather obviously from female store-window mannequins; some of them bared their sexless breasts; some had lost their wigs and stared baldly and blindly down from the darkness.

    And then there was the carousel.

    A sign proclaimed it was the largest in the world, said how much it weighed, how many thousand lightbulbs were to be found in the chandeliers that hung from it in Gothic profusion, and forbade anyone from climbing on it or from riding on the animals.

    And such animals! Shadow stared, impressed in spite of himself, at the hundreds of full-sized creatures who circled on the platform of the carousel. Real creatures, imaginary creatures, and transformations of the two: each creature was different. He saw mermaid and merman, centaur and unicorn, elephants (one huge, one tiny), bulldog, frog and phoenix, zebra, tiger, manticore and basilisk, swans pulling a carriage, a white ox, a fox, twin walruses, even a sea serpent, all of them brightly colored and more than real: each rode the platform as the waltz came to an end and a new waltz began. The carousel did not even slow down.

    “What’s it for?” asked Shadow. “I mean, okay, world’s biggest, hundreds of animals, thousands of lightbulbs, and it goes around all the time, and no one ever rides it.”

    “It’s not there to be ridden, not by people,” said Wednesday. “It’s there to be admired. It’s there to be.”

    A place of power and possibility, of gods diabolical and celestial: glowing amber and heady cinnamon, the green of growing things and the white of thunderclaps, sweet myrrh and sacred styrax, forest moss and blood-soaked battlefields, papyrus and clay, rose petals, wildflowers, abbatoirs, and honey.

    Add to cart
  • The Crescent Moon

    The mystery of divine virginity, insemination, and the cradle of all birth. Fertility, wise counsel, and the gift of true wisdom.

     

    Gleaming amber and copal with white sage and sheer juniper.

    Out of Stock
  • The Dream is Big Enough for Everyone

    We believe that the American dream is big enough for everyone, for people of all races and religions, for men and women, for immigrants, for LGBT people and for people with disabilities. For everyone.

    Lilith at the Women’s March DTLA, 2018.

    Nasty Woman? Nah, Nasty Tween: honeyed fig and sugar-dusted patchouli, sweet amber oud, a drop of red currant, and vanilla cream.

    Add to cart
  • The Emperor’s Rams

    Twin symbols of Aries, signifying courage and aggression: dragon’s blood resin, red peppercorn, red poppy, red musk, and red amber.

    Out of Stock
  • The Eternal Queen

    A whisper of names: Nandi, Dido, Clytemnestra, Hatshepsut, Merneith, Olga of Kiev, Boudicca, Urraca the Reckless, Makeda, Sasaban, Semiramis, Rabodoandrianampoinimerina, Theodora, Julia Agrippina, Wu Zeitan, Irene Sarantapechaina, Elizabeth. She is every queen that has ever walked on this Earth, and every queen that shall come. She rules the past, the present, and the future; she is the archetypical sovereign, the amalgamation of feminine power – dark and light – throughout all of mankind’s history.

    White gardenia and tuberose with ambergris accord, vegetal vanilla musk, bourbon vanilla, and amber incense.

    Out of Stock
  • The Great He-Goat

    Francisco Goya

    Haitian vetiver, Egyptian amber, carnation, black musk, pomegranate, patchouli, and smoked ginger.

    Add to cart
  • The Little Wooden Doll

    “My little Vasilissa, my dear daughter, listen to what I say, remember well my last words and fail not to carry out my wishes. I am dying, and with my blessing, I leave to thee this little doll. It is very precious for there is no other like it in the whole world. Carry it always about with thee in thy pocket and never show it to anyone. When evil threatens thee or sorrow befalls thee, go into a corner, take it from thy pocket and give it something to eat and drink. It will eat and drink a little, and then thou mayest tell it thy trouble and ask its advice, and it will tell thee how to act in thy time of need.” So saying, she kissed her little daughter on the forehead, blessed her, and shortly after died.

    Little Vasilissa grieved greatly for her mother, and her sorrow was so deep that when the dark night came, she lay in her bed and wept and did not sleep. At length she be thought herself of the tiny doll, so she rose and took it from the pocket of her gown and finding a piece of wheat bread and a cup of kvass, she set them before it, and said: “There, my little doll, take it. Eat a little, and drink a little, and listen to my grief. My dear mother is dead and I am lonely for her.”

    Then the doll’s eyes began to shine like fireflies, and suddenly it became alive. It ate a morsel of the bread and took a sip of the kvass, and when it had eaten and drunk, it said:

    “Don’t weep, little Vasilissa. Grief is worst at night. Lie down, shut thine eyes, comfort thyself and go to sleep. The morning is wiser than the evening.” So Vasilissa the Beautiful lay down, comforted herself and went to sleep, and the next day her grieving was not so deep and her tears were less bitter.

    Gently carved wood warm with a maternal love that reaches beyond death: rose-infused amber and soft golden sandalwood.

    Select Options
  • The Naturally Possible and Impossible

    This has occurred in my presence on four occasions in darkness. The test conditions under which they took place were quite satisfactory, so far as the judgment was concerned; but ocular demonstration of such a fact is so necessary to disturb our pre-formed opinions as to “the naturally possible and impossible,” that I will here only mention cases in which the deductions of reason were confirmed by the sense of sight.

    On one occasion I witnessed a chair, with a lady sitting on it, rise several inches from the ground. On another occasion, to avoid the suspicion of this being in some way performed by herself, the lady knelt on the chair in such a manner that its four feet were visible to us. It then rose about three inches, remained suspended for about ten seconds, and then slowly descended. At another time two children, on separate occasions, rose from the floor with their chairs, in full daylight, under (to me) most satisfactory conditions; for I was kneeling and keeping close watch upon the feet of the chair, and observing that no one might touch them.

    The most striking cases of levitation which I have witnessed have been with Mr. Home, on three separate occasions have I seen him raised completely from the floor of the room. Once sitting in an easy chair, once kneeling on his chair, and once standing up. On each occasion I had full opportunity of watching the occurrence as it was taking place.

    There are at least a hundred recorded instances of Mr. Home’s rising from the ground, in the presence of as many separate persons, and I have heard from the lips of the three witnesses to the most striking occurrence of this kind – the Earl of Dunraven, Lord Lindsay, and Captain C. Wynne – their own most minute accounts of what took place. To reject the recorded evidence on this subject is to reject all human testimony whatever; for no fact in sacred or profane history is supported by a stronger array of proofs

    The accumulated testimony establishing Mr. Homes levitations is overwhelming. It is greatly to be desired that some person, whose evidence would be accepted as conclusive by the scientific world – if indeed there lives a person whose testimony in favour of such phenomena would be taken – would seriously and patiently examine the alleged facts. Most of the eyewitnesses to these levitations are now living, and would, doubtless, be willing to give their evidence. But, in a few years, such direct evidence will be difficult, if not impossible, to be obtained.

    – Notes of an Enquiry into the Phenomena called Spiritual during the years 1870-1873, William Crookes

    Well-worn leather, bay rum, vetiver, cigar smoke, and amber oudh.

    Add to cart
  • The Night is Waning Away

    But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven, there are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning away; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-colored panes; and the blackness of the sable drapery appals; and to him whose foot falls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a muffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches their ears who indulge in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments. But these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat feverishly the heart of life.

    Night-blooming jasmine and cereus reflected through ruddy musk and crimson amber.

    Add to cart
  • The Pleasure of Aristocratic Women

    Honeyed amber, teakwood, almond, and coconut.

    Out of Stock
  • The Queen of Earthly Paradise

    The Fruitful Mother of Thousands that rules over the House of Man: golden bulbs bursting through the ground at the first light of Spring: sun-bright golden petals of daffodil, gladiolus, tulips, crocus, aconite and jonquil gilded with amber.

    Out of Stock
  • The Queen of Hel

    “I am Hel,” she said simply. “The dead come to me, and they do not return to the lands above. Why should I let Balder go?”
    – Norse Mythology, Neil Gaiman

    Lilith loves cosplaying, and while she has done many characters, none has suited her quite as well as Hela has. She debuted this look at C2E2 this year, complete with tiny plush Fenris.

    Tiny mistress of the underworld: gleaming black leather, luminescent green amber, and gargantuan hellhound musk.

    Add to cart
  • The Sun’s Treasure

    “Have you remembered how I do my little coin trick?” he asked Shadow with a grin.

    “I have not.”

    “If you can guess how I did it,” said Mad Sweeney, his lips purple, his blue eyes beclouded, “I’ll tell you if you get warm.”

    “It’s not a palm is it?” asked Shadow.

    “It is not.”

    “Is it a gadget of some kind? Something up your sleeve or elsewhere that shoots the coins up for you to catch?”

    “It is not that neither. More whiskey, anybody?”

    “I read in a book about a way of doing the miser’s dream with latex covering the palm of your hand, making a skin-colored pouch for the coins to hide behind.”

    “This is a sad wake for Great Sweeney who flew like a bird across all of Ireland and ate watercress in his madness: to be dead and unmourned save for a bird, a dog, and an idiot. No, it is not a pouch.”

    “Well, that’s pretty much it for ideas,” said Shadow. “I expect you just take them out of nowhere.” It was meant to be sarcasm, but then he saw the expression on Sweeney’s face. “You do,” he said. “You do take them from nowhere.”

    “Well, not exactly nowhere,” said Mad Sweeney. “But now you’re getting the idea. You take them from the hoard.”

    “The hoard,” said Shadow, starting to remember.

    “Yes.”

    “You just have to hold it in your mind, and it’s yours to take from. The sun’s treasure. It’s there in those moments when the world makes a rainbow. It’s there in the moment of eclipse and the moment of the storm.” And he showed Shadow how to do the thing. This time Shadow got it.

    Radiant amber and orange blossom, golden oudh, and saffron-threaded honey.

    Add to cart
  • The Torture Queen

    White amber, vanilla musk, white tea, ambergris, gardenia, and chrome.

    Add to cart
  • The Wild Men of Jezirat Al Tennyn

    You are shocked out of the torch song’s melancholy mood by shrieks, hoots, and yowls. You move to your left, and see that instead of a stage, a gigantic iron cage has been hung, hovering a few feet off of the ground. Elaborate, delicate silver sigils are engraved upon huge iron disks that have been mounted to the sides of the cage, and they flicker and spark whenever one of the wild men touches the iron bars that imprison them. The backdrop depicts a blistering volcanic eruption, spiked with thick luminescent bolts of lightning. Several beings are held within the cage, male and female, spanning every age. They flash their razor-fanged smiles at you malevolently as they anxiously crawl, pace, and stalk the length of their prison, stopping occasionally to pose and preen as they gossip with one another in an unrecognizable guttural, grinding language. Their tattooed skin glows an angry crimson, curving horns protrude from their skulls, and their eyes blaze with unholy light.

    Fiery, primal, and precociously diabolical: red amber, Spanish moss, Indonesian patchouli, ambergris, sweet ambrette seed, red pepper, two cloves, and vanilla flower.

    Add to cart
  • The Writing on the Slate

    My most remarkable experience has been with Dr. H. Slade of New York, for whom I have formed a high regard. I first met him at his residence last November, when, without announcing my name, in three consecutive sittings, at eleven o’clock in the morning, seated at a small, bare table in the centre of a light room, there written on the under side of a slate placed on the table, several communications addressed to me, purporting to come from my deceased friends. I pass over the other manifestations – such as the movement of heavy articles of furniture in plain view, without visible contact – and confine myself to the writing on the slate, which I regarded with most interest…

    – Thos. W. Waterman, Binghamton, NY, July 14, 1873

    The result of a physical law which is not yet understood, and the existence of which has hitherto scarcely been suspected: beeswax candles, chalk, and dust.

    Add to cart
  • We Cared About Such Different Things

    “I have a brother. They say, you put us together, we are like one person, you know? When we are young, his hair, it is very blond, very light, his eyes are blue, and people say, he is the good one. And my hair it is very dark, darker than yours even, and people say I am the rogue, you know? I am the bad one. And now time passes, and my hair is gray. His hair, too, I think, is gray. And you look at us, you would not know who was light, who was dark.”

    “Were you close?” asked Shadow.

    “Close?” asked Czernobog. “No. How could we be? We cared about such different things.”

    You would not know who was light, who was dark: iron and amber, gold-limned white musk and ink-gloomed dark musk.

    Add to cart
  • Western Pygmy Blue

    A flutter of bronze and azure blue: coconut amber, patchouli and tobacco absolute with blue lotus petal, lilac, tobacco petal, dried blueberry and blackcurrant, and khus.

    Add to cart
  • Witchblade

    Antediluvian, sacred metal, glowing red musk, blessed frankincense, and antiqued amber.

    The Witchblade perfume was created to layer seamlessly with Sara Pezzini’s scent, and is made to be worn with all of the future Black Phoenix scents inspired by Witchblade wielders.

    Add to cart
  • Woman Dragging Her Aroused Lover Across a Bridge

    Sweet amber and rosewood, wet oak beams, smoky vanilla husk, ambrette seed, and hinoki wood.

    Out of Stock