Brother and sister team Midnight and Aurora Pendragon have a successful airship business taking clients on trips to be photographed with their pet pterodactyl. The last thing they expect is to have one such trip hijacked by the dashing adventurer Voltaire Crevin and his right-hand man Trevilian Hawke. While his sister and Voltaire repeatedly lock horns, Midnight finds himself increasingly drawn to Trevilian. Finally, Voltaire explains they are trying to prevent a weapon of mass destruction from falling into the hands of a ruthless, secret organization, the S.O.R. With Midnight’s help, they take the airship down into an extinct volcano to find that not only does Atlantis still exist, but the weapon is in the hands of the few remaining Atlanteans. But if Voltaire had believed the S.O.R. were ruthless, it's nothing compared to that of the Atlanteans who seek to return to the surface and rule the world using their ultimate weapon: The Leviathan. Midnight’s feelings for Trevilian deepen as they seek a way to stop the Atlanteans and escape from Atlantis. Danger comes in many ways and takes many forms, each more deadly than the last. Can Midnight and Trevilian survive long enough to know whether love never dies?

Love Never Dies

“You know, with the right tools, I think I could remove this. Can I lay out my tools, Tresilian? Thank you.” Midnight selected a couple of very slender pieces from his toolbox and settled to work on the beast. The work was delicate, and Midnight shifted to shelter the polypus as waves lapped up and over them.


“Hurry, Midnight. We have to get back.” Tresilian’s voice was soft, but Midnight heard the edge of impatience.


“Nearly there. It’s similarto work I’ve done with automatons, but I never expected to be performing it on a living creature.”


“There. It’s done.” Midnight sat back and held up the box in his hand. Some gore remained attached to filaments, but there was little bleeding. He waited as the polypus reached up with a tentacle and with its tip touched where the box had been, tracing the deep marks left gouged into its skin. Then the tentacle traced down Midnight’s cheek and he laughed. “He’s free.”


Chapter 62