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I practically don't have to write a review, as Scylla said almost EXACTLY what I was thinking. Condensed milk mixed with my grandmother's secret ingredients for homemade ice cream, that warm and comforting lactation scent that can't be described but is instantly recognizable if you've ever smelled it, and coconut milk. Very good throw and staying power on me, which is an added perk. My skin doesn't pull out the mint or usual lunar components at all, much like Chaste Moon. I like this even better than Chaste, though, and wish I'd bought more than one bottle so I'd have enough to make lotion for layering the scent. I'm not usually a foody-scent kind of girl, but as always, Beth's so brilliant and talented that her blends are an exception to the rule!

I can't believe I've missed reviewing Strength until now, as it's one of my favorite scents. I'm actually on my second bottle, and since it's a 10 ml. and I switch between scents nearly every day, you can guess how much I love this one. First on, all I can smell are lilies. Rich, heady lilies, which I don't usually think of as a "favorite" note, but they're so good here. When the amber (egyptian, I think) starts to come out underneath them, the combination of cool and warm never fails to get my attention and produce a little shiver of delight. I don't know why, but any time I wear Strength after having skipped over it for more than a couple of weeks, I weep. Not cry, but the "curl up in a ball and just weep" for ten minutes thing. Maybe my mind knows something I don't, because I typically am applying at night when those moments come along; it's incredibly cathartic, and not a bad thing, strange as that may sound. The very final stages of dry-down, just before Strength disappears on me, has a green tinge to it. I haven't figured out what the other notes in this blend are, but the lily and amber seem to me like the perfect representation of the figures on the Tarot card. A beautiful scent, whether you're meditating on the meaning of the card or wearing it as perfume.

I actually ordered Two, Five, and Seven for my mother, who loves roses to the point of distraction. I've spent the last two years trying to track down more Rose Red for her, as she proclaims it the absolute best rose scent in the world - and one she can wear, no less, in spite of her horrible fragrance allergies. I was hoping Two, Five, and Seven would fill the niche and leave me more time for my own BPAL pursuits, but ... I'm not giving it to her. I'm keeping it for myself, greedy child that I am. And I don't actually like roses. I'm not entirely sure this would be rosy enough for her, either. With seventy-four (or something like that) different kinds of roses in Two, Five, and Seven, I expected it to be ... well, overpowering. It's not, and the green grass note that comes out after about five minutes makes this divine. It has that laundry-clean note of Othello, delicate wafts of rose that are more like standing in a rose garden than sticking your nose into one of the flowers, and the fresh green of a just-mown lawn. That wonderful, delighted feeling you get when you notice the trees turning green, blooms starting to appear on bushes and in flowerbeds, and the sun making you actually feel warm again, right when spring switches from tiptoeing in to racing across the landscape? Beth put it in a bottle and labeled it Two, Five, and Seven.

In the bottle, Pink Moon was over-the-top sugary strawberry cotton candy, and I was a little hesitant to slather it on for testing purposes. I shrugged my shoulders, decided to slather rather than dab, and was instantly delighted. Still sweet, and still strawberry, a gorgeous soft floral note popped right to the top and made this something entirely different than I had expected. Honey and tulip are easy to pick out, and they're really lovely. Probably not something I will wear as often as the autumnal moons; Pink Moon is a little sweet for my tastes. Pink Moon feels new in a way I can't explain - it makes me want to take my daughter to Dallas next spring so we can walk through the Arboretum's spring bulb fantasy while sticky-fying ourselves with cotton candy and strawberry soda. There's a sense of absolute joy and new beginning to Pink Moon that shouldn't be missed.

Santa Muerte smacks me with the vetiver out of the vial, and it takes a couple of minutes for it to retreat once I've put this on. But oh, when it does ... ! The vetiver doesn't disappear, but it's not a dominant note. While I'm not a huge fan of rose scents, I can't rave enough about the combination of rose, crysanthemum, and cactus flower. I admit to having no experience whatsoever with the cactus flower, but I feel like it must be what juices up the lush, ripe - but not quite "overripe" of Whip - rose and fuzzy yellow of the crysanthemum. With the vetiver barely discernable underneath, you end up with a very warm, softly enveloping and oddly soothing floral that still exudes quiet strength (not throw, although this had good throw for such a soft scent). I don't usually rave about florals, even though Beth makes the best rose and violets scents I've ever come across. Santa Muerta is so good that I'm buying a bottle as soon as I finish this review - I'm not even waiting for the next update to add it into my order. Even if you don't do florals, I'd recommend you grab an imp of Santa Muerta and try it. This may just be the one that changes your mind.

I'm squeeeeeing!!!

I really thought I'd like Pumpkin King ... it has so many rave reviews, and the notes sound so good! Pumpkin King didn't work on my skin, though. First on, it was a beautiful combination of Samhain, The Hesperides, and Jack, and I was about to start slathering it on when it did a funny little morph. In just a few seconds, it became very sharp and cloying, and that sharpness was like Samhain's edge being amped up past the point of wearability. Unfortunately, the sharpness didn't fade on me. Whatever caused it, my skin grabbed hold of the note and ran with it. My three-and-a-half year old even mentioned that I smelled like the lawnmower (which gets a bitter, charred smell after prolonged use - I'm guessing that's what she meant, since we'd used it the day before and talked about the scent). With any luck, your skin will treat Pumpkin King better than mine did. It was beautiful in the vial, and those first few seconds were divine.

Mmm. Coffee, brown sugar, milk, and a splash of booze when I first put on Miskatonic University. Not seriously boozy like Juke Joint or Grog, but it's definitely there. Most of Beth's scents dry down to their final stage fairly quickly, thanks to my strange body chemistry. Miskatonic U takes much longer than most, so I get to enjoy the yummy coffee and heavy brown sugar notes for quite a while. It seems like they get sweeter over time, so if you're not into sugary goodness, it's something to consider. The oakwood stays hidden from me. It takes a long time for the bookish feel to come out of this scent, and because it happens so close to the end of the scent's life, it's pretty faint. Mercury from the Astrological oils had this feel to it, but in Miskatonic it's much less pronounced. All in all, I smell like a very good cup of cappuccino with a flavor-syrup added. While I don't usually go for foody scents, I live for coffee and adore brown sugar, so I'll be wearing this one regularly.

Leather. Gorgeous, sexy leather - over that not-quite-edible sweetness of dragon's blood, and with a smoky tea (think lapsang souchong, dried over campfires). Someone catch me before I swoon! The more I wear this scent, the more it reminds me of my brother's leather jacket, with his cologne once as much a part of its smell as the leather, that I used to borrow from him. He hasn't been able to wear it in the six years since our car accident, so it's hanging in my closet, and most of the cologne scent has faded from it, leaving just a hint of his smell, leather, and the strangest sense of physical warmth to its scent. I'll wear this often. It dries down only slightly sweeter than my pre-BPAL (and definitely not sweet) Bulgari Black, but it has that off-the-beaten-path sense of style to it, and it's womanly in spite of notes that are typically thought of as male. Definitely going on my bottle wish-list.

The salt and water scent stayed with me much longer than I expected; in fact, the dragon's blood didn't come out until the scent had almost faded away. Is it lily in there? I'm having a hard time identifying the floral note that comes out in Dragon's Tears - it almost wants to be a white floral, but isn't, and it isn't sweet enough to be mimosa ... lilies are the only thing that seem remotely right, and I'm honestly not sure about that. The sweet warmth of dragon's blood is just enough to confuse - and delight! - my nose about this scent, which dries down to a particularly wet warmth. Very nice; I'll definitely use up the imp.

Most of the musks do funny things on my skin, and turn into overpowering animal smells, so I'm shocked at how much I like Dragon's Musk - it doesn't seem to get out of control, and I very much agree with those who've mentioned Dragon's Milk with a little less candy sweetness. I don't think this will knock Dragon's Milk off my favorites list, but I won't guarantee it. If you've tried Dragon's Milk, imagine it doing a Varga Girl sexpot number and you've got Dragon's Musk. A little less sweetness, a lot more steaming sensuality, and likely to get you nibbled on in all the right places. I'd hazard a guess that Beth used more of the "light" musks - red, siberian, and white - than the dark musks, because this stays sensual without going over the line into animalistic and overpowering. The rave results I got from my other half, not to mention the definite "that woman is competition" stiffening-up I got from other women while I was wearing this, tell me that if you're looking for sultry and sexy without flowers, this is the way to go.

Iris (orris, whatever ...), which I love, and that yummy, not-quite sweetened dragon's blood. First on, this isn't a dry scent, but it doesn't take long to get there. I'm not sure what blondewood is, but I'm guessing it's pushing the white sandalwood's dry, almost dusty tone on into VERY dry. The dragon's blood actually ends up taking a back seat to the dry woods in this blend, and while it certainly achieves the "thin, dry..." characteristic of Beth's description, I think my favorite of the Ars Draconis scents is still Dragon's Milk.

I've got to agree that this is clean, blue-green water. There's only a little salt tang to Dunwich when I put it on, and it switches to ozone very quickly. I love that AlectoNox has said it all for me, because I sometimes feel like notes morph on my skin in ways that lead to a different scent than everyone else gets. This one seems to be staying true to it's original intent, and I like that. I wouldn't have thought of lilies, but the slightly soapy - and I mean that more in a clean lather sort of way, not in the "smells like a bar of guest soap" way - and wet floral is a very good thing in this blend. There's a nice zing to this - it's actually very energizing and ... well, professional. I think I'll save my imp (courtesy of the fabulous Chopchica, as well) for a job interview I have coming up. It's green, but it's not leafy, and it's bright in a "sparkles off the water" sense. I'll definitely be ordering a bottle!

Nosferatu didn't end up particularly "dry" on my skin. Although the the herbs went on wet and green, they dried down only to the state of the fern in my living room, which gets limp and floopy to tell me it needs a drink. The wine, very definitely red, took a while to show up, but when it did, I felt like I had spilled a fabulous herb-infused red wine on myself (and smelled pretty good as a result). Unfortunately, the "new" wine note tends to go overly sweet on my skin, and the grassy notes that are left behind as the herbs fade start to smell like a nice guest soap. Nosferatu's not a scent that I see myself adding to the collection any time soon, but I'd recommend it for testing to those who like the green grass scent and/or the red wine.

Though March marks the end of the desolation and chill of winter, it is not yet Spring, the time of rebirth, fertility and the Earth’s fecundity. March’s Full Moon is a Virgin’s Moon, pure, youthful, unsullied and innocent. This is the Moon of the Child, and the scent is as soft and gentle as a baby’s breath: milky blossoms and soft cream touch the last buds of winter, coupled with crystalline, bright traditional Lunar oils. This smells like an Easter cake to me (and that's a good thing!). Buttercream frosting - not butterscotch, but the heavy frosting on cakes - with fresh spring flowers and herbs placed all around and on it for decoration. Chaste Moon didn't last very long on my skin, but it was wonderful while it did. Even as it dried down, it was a wonderful balance of that rich and creamy icing and the subtle greenery and blooms.

I wanted to love Hollywood Babylon - the egyptian amber and heliotrope are notes I enjoy, and I couldn't wait to see how the combined with the strawberry and vanilla. When I first put this on, I'm delighted with the strawberry, vanilla, and egyptian amber; it's like Snake Oil dipped in ripe fruit, and it's nearly edible. It doesn't take long for the musk to come in, though, and taint this with the smell I've now come to think of as "three day old sweaty sex". In all fairness, Hollywood Babylon is a perfect representation of "innocence ... dragged into debauch." The musk keeps it from being a scent I'll wear - but oh, that initial Snake Oil with a twist!

I love iris, so I was excited about trying Nefertiti. The Egyptian Iris that Beth uses here is very different than the Florentine Iris I love so, and took me by surprise - it has a very liquid feel to it, and it's beautiful. I don't get much of the frankincense or myrrh mentioned in other reviews, and Nefertiti keeps her cool and watery green characteristics on my skin. In a hard-to-describe way, this is floral without being floral; it's like a lush little water garden tucked away where you'd least expect it. I love the aquatic feel of this scent - it's like Prague in that you feel the water without actually smelling aquatics. I'm definitely ordering a bottle of this, as the sandalwoods never come out, let alone take over, as is their usual habit when meeting up with my skin. Truly beautiful, cool and refreshing, and a wonderful summer scent!

Out of the vial, I can smell that glorious lemon rind, but it never makes an appearance once I'm wearing Ave Maria Gratia Plena. This starts out very sharp and astringent on my skin, like bitter lavender but without actually smelling like lavender. Luckily, this only last for fifteen or twenty seconds, and the scent starts rounding out into a soft, lush (and very "white") floral. In spite of my aversion to jasmine and the headache it gives me when it's a dominant note, it's beautiful here, combining with the pale musks and lily to produce a delicate and skin-warm perfume. When the rosewood does make itself known, it's in combination with these, making them even warmer and softly glowing, and doesn't stand out on its own. Ave Maria Gratia Plena gets so soft so quickly that at it's peak it makes me think of sleeping next to someone at the end of the day, your nose buried in their neck, and getting the faintest whiff of what smelled very good when they put it on that morning. This doesn't have a lot of throw or staying power, and it's more "white" than I could wear without getting a headache, but it's a lovely scent. For those who like this sort of floral, I think that with moderate slathering, rather than a tiny drop for testing, it would be a favorite.

In the vial and for the first few seconds on my skin, The Red Queen has a sweetly tart black cherry smell that makes me think of Kool-Aid powder. It's refreshing and fun, although not what I normally go for in scents. Red Queen doesn't take long to show the wooden side of her nature, though. While the cherry Kool-Aid note blends very nicely with a warm red-brown note, I don't get rosewood out of it; in fact, the woody rose scent never makes its way out on my skin. Within ten minutes or so, this seems to have completed the usual oil transformation into what it's going to be during the majority of wear time, and it's a pleasant tart fruit and polished rich wood scent. It's nice, and I wouldn't call it unremarkable, but it doesn't have that resonance that so many of Beth's scents have. Very mellow, very warm, but there's a reason I swapped away my bottle of this. Just not something I'd wear all that often.

My family immigrated from a village just outside of Prague that's now been absorbed by the city, and I was raised on stories about the Moldau and the beauty and culture of Prague. It didn't hurt any that crocus is one of my favorite scents, so naturally I ordered a bottle unsniffed. I was delighted to find an imp in my order that just arrived, but I should tell you that it's got me anticipating the bottle I ordered even more than before. To be honest, I wasn't sure what I'd think of this one. Snowdrop is a little white flower, and since I don't know exactly what it smells like, I was worried it would be a "white floral," which I'm not all that fond of. The lilies worried me a little bit, too; stargazer lily is crisp and leans toward that "white floral" tone, as well, so this could have turned out to be a headache-inducing scent for me. Don't hesitate for a second to try Prague. Of the lilies, calla (the lightly sweet and rather fruity one) is the predominant note. Mixed with the other lilies, a touch of honey, and the lighter-than-saffron spice and dewy pastel green of crocus, Prague is fresh, clear and incredibly representative of spring. I still don't know what a snowdrop actually smells like, but I wonder if Prague's not-quite aquatic feel comes from this flower. Imagine yourself sitting in a patch of crocus and lilies alongside the Moldau River, with the sun warming a late spring breeze off the water, and the "not-quite aquatic" thing may make more sense. Sunny and juicy, full of flowers without smelling "floral," Prague may be the perfect spring and summer scent, even if you normally live for resins and incense.

For something completely different than the notes you've listed, there's La Belle Dame Sans Merci. It's very green, in a leafy-grassy sort of way, and very much a "power" scent to me. Magdalene is orchid, rose, and tea; it's warm and bright at the same time, and has a softly commanding feel. And Sea of Glass is beautiful beyond words. It's cool, sparkling, and truly crystalline. It's one of my all-time favorites, with the exception of staying power. I'm just going to have to give in and reapply or make a quick perfume spray, because it's time to be wearing it again. The nice thing is that a) it's so much fun testing scents to find the right one for you, and no matter what BPAL scent you choose, chances are good no one else is going to come to work smelling the same!

You might try Zephyr ... to me, it's a combination of clean laundry out on the clothesline and the flushed-skin scent of making out. Ms. MSGirl review said, "I would recommend this as a "clean" scent for people who don't like florals, and a way to wear vanilla for people who don't like blatantly sweet and foody smells." Szepasszony is bright and fresh; it doesn't melt into a skin-like scent, but it's not floral, foody, or incensy. You might check the reviews on that one and see what you think. Have fun finding just the right one!

I can't believe I just wiped out my whole review. Lucky for you, it means you get the condensed version, rather than my usual rambling. The individual notes in Nemesis sounded so good I couldn't resist. So many good things, this is bound to be wonderful. All I got when I put it on, though, was soapy wood - ack! The wood doesn't even smell like balsam on me. Some days I hate my skin. Okay. I admit I wasn't rational about the scent at first. I hated the idea of Nemesis ending up on the "Scents That Broke Your Heart" posting, because I soooo wanted to love it. I managed to take a deep breath, sit back, and give it a couple of minutes before sniffing again. Thank goodness I have that tiniest bit of patience. While I'm still soap and wood, the fig and dried rose have made an appearance. Sweet and juicy, this is a much nicer combination with the soapy wood scent. Mellow, clean, and lush. This stays for quite a while, and I figure I'm just not going to get the other notes out of Nemesis; they're mostly "top" notes, and would have come out in the early stages of the scent. There I go, thinking again. Ginger suddenly jumps out at me, sharp and biting. There's a creamy white floral to the blend now, although it's much kinder and gentler on me than jasmine or ylang-ylang. Oddly, the two balance each other out and give this an edge and a softening simultaneously. Very nice, actually. In the end, Nemesis goes back to soapy wood on me - and mostly soap, at that. It didn't have the best staying power on me, either (which was probably a good thing considering what my body chemistry did to it), and it's definitely a bottle I'll swap away. In spite of that, I'd recommend it. There are such gorgeous ingredients in this, and it's such a hit for other reviewers, that I know it just has to be my body causing the problem.

Out of the bottle, Intrigue is heavy on the wood notes. My skin seems to like the dry wood scents a bit too much, and as a result, I'm learning to stick with the blends that are light on these. I had hoped that seeing them at the end of the scent description meant there were less of them, but it may be that my skin has amped them up more than they're really in the mix. I wasn't a fan of Beth's single note in fig, so I'm surprised at how much I enjoy it in Intrigue. It adds a sweetness that mellows the wood notes out beautifully, and lets the cocoa shine through. All in all, I smell like an edible piece of old wood - and that's a good thing. I'm not sure what black palm smells like, but there's a waxy undertone to Intrigue. It's not artificial, but it's very much like the scent my hand-dipped tapers give off when I light them. It's an interesting note, and whatever it is, it seems to work well with the other notes in here. In the dry-down, sandalwood seems to be the prominent note. By the time this is in its final stage, I have a slightly figgy sandalwood, and nothing else. I always hate to say that one of Beth's scents isn't for me, but Intrigue is one of them, sadly.

First on, Rage is all amber and rose geranium. The Dragon's Blood heats up this liquid, bubbling scent, and it's all bittersweet warmth. Oh, but there's the jasmine. Jasmine and I don't get along, as it always gives me a headache, but there's hope for Rage as it's still fairly light. The mandarin is slight, but creates a bit of tartness, and the black currant's syrupy sweetness lifts the scent and liquifies it even more at the same time. Damn the jasmine. I thought the Dragon's Blood and amber were going to win out, but my skin picked up the jasmine and went wild with it. I know have herbal, soapy white-floral headache in a bottle, and that's a shame, as Rage was turning out nicely until the jasmine went over the top. I think that this would be really good on those who a) like jasmine, and want a smoldering scent. If it had stayed that way on me, this would be a keeper.